Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss

The stone steps wound downward into darkness, the narrow stairwell lit only by flickering torches mounted along the rough-hewn walls.

Thorn, Elias, and Valen followed the gang leader into the depths of Summerhold, their footsteps echoing against the cold stone.

The deeper they went, the thicker the air became, heavy with the scent of smoke, sweat, and damp earth.

Thorn whistled softly under his breath, glancing around with casual interest. "Nice setup." He murmured. "Bit cramped, but cozy."

Elias gave him a look that said focus, but Thorn just grinned wider.

At the base of the stairs, the tunnel opened into a series of torch-lit corridors. Guards loitered at key intersections, gruff men and women armed with short swords and clubs, faces hardened by years of street warfare.

Their eyes narrowed as Thorn and the others passed, but none moved to stop them.

Word had apparently traveled faster than they had, and all eyes were on Valen. He walked in the center of the group, his presence alone an invisible shield. The whispers that followed them down the corridors spoke volumes.

Valen the Wanderer.

A legend walking among them.

They arrived at a heavy iron-banded door guarded by two thugs. At a nod from the man leading them, the doors swung open with a groan of rusted hinges, revealing a wide underground hall.

This was clearly the gang's true heart.

The hall was roughly carved but spacious, the walls lined with crates, stolen goods, makeshift weapon racks, and at its far end, seated on a mismatched throne of old wood and iron, was the Boss.

He was a lean man with a fairly handsome face, dressed in practical leather armor. His eyes were keen, missing nothing.

As Thorn and his group entered, the man leading them hurried ahead and bent to whisper in the Boss's ear.

The Boss stiffened slightly. His gaze flicked to them, and settled on Valen.

Recognition bloomed in his eyes.

He stood from his throne almost reverently, bowing slightly at the waist.

"Valen the Wanderer." He said, his voice low and respectful. "To what do we owe the honor?"

Valen said nothing, merely inclining his head.

Thorn stepped forward, a lazy grin on his face.

"Actually," he said cheerfully, "you owe the honor to me."

The Boss blinked, surprised.

"I've got a job for you." Thorn said, spreading his arms. "A beautiful, chaotic, world-changing job."

The Boss arched an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Thorn's grin widened.

"You heard about the King's decree?" Thorn asked.

The Boss nodded grimly. "Hard not to. Half the city's buzzing about it. The other half's sharpening knives."

"Good." Thorn said. "Because we're going to... accelerate the process."

The Boss glanced at Valen before crossing his arms. "If I may ask, how?"

Thorn paced a slow circle, speaking loudly enough for the guards and lieutenants in the room to hear.

"First," he said, ticking off on his fingers, "I want you to frame the Church. Paint them as cowards. Betrayers."

He turned back toward the Boss.

"I want every whisper, every drunken murmur at every tavern and alleyway to carry the same message. The Church abandoned the people. They hoard their power while the common folk rot."

The Boss chuckled. "Won't be hard. People are halfway there already."

"Good." Thorn said. "Because we're not stopping there."

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping.

"I want the rumors to claim that the Creator Himself has abandoned the Church. That the plague was a divine punishment for their corruption."

A few of the gang members muttered in surprise, but no one made an issue out of it.

The Boss stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to appear tough before Valen, which Thorn had been counting on. "Blasphemy's dangerous business."

"Only if you get caught." Thorn said with a wink.

The Boss chuckled again. "And what's the endgame?"

Thorn smiled brightly. "Simple. Discredit the Church. Strip away the illusion of their divine favor. Make the people see them for what they are. Weak, corrupt, and mortal."

The Boss whistled low. "Ambitious."

"Scared?" Thorn teased.

The Boss laughed, a deep, genuine sound. "Hell no. I love this kind of chaos."

Thorn's eyes gleamed. "Well, there's more." He said.

He stepped forward again, more serious now.

"I want you to leak stories. Real ones if you have them. Fake ones if you don't. Stories about Church leaders living in luxury while the commoners die. Emphasize the hypocrisy. Make them furious."

The Boss nodded slowly. "A furious mob's harder to control."

"Exactly." Thorn said.

He turned, raising a hand dramatically.

"And when the people are ready to act, when the fires are burning in their hearts, I want them to have a chant. A rallying cry."

He recited it clearly. "The hour is struck, the hands must move! The doors are open, the will must choose! The blood is spilled, the debts are due! The gods are silent, the world needs you!"

There were a few seconds of silence as Thorn finished his recitation, the gang members in the room quickly memorizing it.

The Boss grinned, teeth flashing. "I like it. Dramatic. Easy to remember."

Thorn stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying the room.

"The goal," he said, "is to start a riot."

The gang members began murmuring excitedly. Riots were good for business. It meant they could take whatever they wanted, and nobody would be coming after them for it.

The Boss grinned widely. "Consider it done."

"Good. Now, let's talk about payment." Thorn dipped his hand into his pouch, the gold weights that Ren had handed over to him clinking as he gathered a small fistful.

The Boss held up a hand, smiling.

"No charge." He said. "This job came from Valen the Wanderer himself. That's enough payment."

Thorn laughed. "Honor among thieves. I like it."

The deal struck, and Thorn, Elias, and Valen turned and made their way back through the tunnels.

Once they were back out in the alleys and clear of the earshot of the gang, Elias spoke up.

"I have to ask." He said, glancing sideways at Thorn. "Why start a riot? Why now?"

Thorn's grin faded into something more serious. The expression was a bit unfamiliar on his face.

"Because," he said softly, "if the Church is scrambling to keep the city from burning, they'll have no time to worry about a few stray Chosen sneaking through their records."

Realization dawned on Elias's face.

"You're giving Ren and Lilith a window."

"Exactly." Thorn said. "A big, flaming, chaotic window. And the chant is my message to them."

He grinned darkly. "Do it now before it's all over or there'd be no other chance."

"Damn." Elias whistled.

Valen's mouth twitched in what might have been approval. The guard had planned well.