Morrigan: Year 3101.

Brice emerged from the hover-limo, his Armani suit still flawless despite the humid morning. The driver, a stoic cyborg named Jax, gave a curt nod as Brice slipped on a pair of iridescent shades.

"Neural Nexus Security Inc." blazed across the towering monolith of glass and steel before him. He smirked. Lucien's little pet project - a front for Les Ombres Sanglantes' more... public operations.

He strode through the sliding doors, assaulted by a symphony of grunts, gunfire, and the meaty thwacks of hand-to-hand combat. To his left, a group of augmented mercs unloaded clip after clip into holographic targets. On his right, a pair of enhanced martial artists traded blows faster than the human eye could track. Straight ahead, recruits pushed their bodies to the limit on gravity-defying obstacle courses.

"Ah, the sweet smell of capitalism and violence," Brice muttered, straightening his tie.

He sauntered into the elevator, ignoring the curious glances from the staff and punched in the code for the top floor - a sequence known only to a select few.

The doors opened to reveal a sprawling office with a view of Paris that would make most billionaires weep. Behind an ostentatious graphene desk sat Xavier Mcallen, CEO of Neural Nexus and Lucien's public puppet.

Xavier's cybernetic eye whirred as he registered Brice's presence. "Well, fuck me sideways," he blurted, nearly choking on his synth-caf. "To what do I owe this honor? You're usually just a hologram bitching about quarterly reports."

Brice dropped into the plush chair across from Xavier, not bothering to wait for an invitation. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "Cut the shit. My ass in this chair means this ain't a social call."

Xavier tapped a concealed button, engaging privacy protocols. "Alright. What's got you slumming it with us mortals?"

Brice yanked out his phone, tossing it onto the desk like he was discarding trash. A few taps later, a hologram materialized above the device.

Xavier leaned in, zooming and refocusing at the image. "Who's the chick? Looks like trouble wrapped in a hot package."

"Morrigan Devereux," Brice drawled. "And I need a team to take care of her. Permanently."

He barked out a laugh. "You shitting me? A whole team for one broad?" His amusement died as he caught Brice's ice-cold stare. "What's her deal?"

"Not your average mark. We're talking vampire, like yours truly. But this one's got decades of combat experience under her belt. Lucien wants her six feet under. Yesterday."

Xavier whistled low. "Lucien himself? Damn. What'd she do, piss in his blood bank?"

"That's above your pay grade. You gonna help, or do I gotta explain to Lucien why his pet human couldn't deliver?"

Brice's words hit Xavier like a slap to the face. His cybernetic eye flashed red. "Fuck you, bloodsucker. I ain't nobody's pet."

He felt a flicker of amusement at Xavier's outburst. Human pride is so fragile, so easily bruised. It was almost cute, like watching a kitten hiss at a lion.

"Oh? Let's see... We gave you that fancy eye, pumped you full of longevity treatments, and bankrolled this entire operation. Face it. You're our well-groomed lapdog."

Xavier's augmented hand clenched, servos whining. "Go fuck yourself sideways with a rusty crowbar. I built this company from the ground up."

"With our money, our tech, and our protection. Don't delude yourself. You're a convenient puppet, nothing more."

He stood abruptly, causing his chair to screech against the floor. "Get the fuck out of my office before I show you what this 'pet' can do!"

Watching Xavier puff up like an angry rooster, he found it almost entertaining. Yet this display of defiance, while cute, could become problematic if left unchecked. He has to remind him of his place, maybe with a subtle threat or two.

"Is that so? Am I suppose to be afraid?" Brice laughed. "Go ahead, attack me. Your fancy cybernetics are just overpriced scrap against a vampire's raw power."

"If you're so goddamn powerful, why can't you take out this Morrigan bitch yourself?"

He could take her on solo, but the risk of their race being exposed to the public... fuck. One slip-up and the humans will launch a full-scale witch hunt against them, and their numbers are but a few. Lucien's orders echoed in his head: "No fuck-ups." Using a team was safer, smarter, more discreet. But the audacity of this cybernetic asshole to even question him? Hell no. He doesn't understand. He doesn't know what it's like to be caught in the crossfire of both worlds. The sacrifices his race had made to survive. The price they've paid. None of these fucking humans understand, all they know is greed and power. And it sickens him that he has to resort to this feeble excuse of a race to achieve his goals.

Brice's blue eyes flashed in an otherworldly glow before his lips curled into a predatory smile. Then, faster than Xavier's enhanced perception could track, he vanished into thin air.

A millisecond later, Xavier found himself dangling in the air with Brice's iron grip locked around his throat. The vampire's face was inches from his own.

"Maybe I just like watching humans squirm," Brice hissed. "Or maybe I want you to understand your place in this fucking hierarchy."

Xavier clawed at the vampire's arm, but his augmented strength was useless against the Brice's inhuman power. He choked out a curse, feet kicking uselessly in the air.

"Listen to me you piece of garbage that you are," Brice's grip tightened as he continued. "I'm more than 100 years old. That means I was here before you were even a thought in your grandfather's mind. So let me refresh your memory. I'm the apex predator here and you humans are nothing but prey to the likes of me. The only reason you're alive is because Lucien let's you."

With a casual flick of his wrist, he hurled Xavier across the room. The man crashed to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat.

"I don't owe you shit, least of all explanations," Brice straightened this suit, eyes still glowing. "Your job is simple - do what Lucien says, no questions asked. Otherwise..." He cracked his knuckles. "I'll rip you apart, limb by cybernetic limb. Got it?"

Xavier coughed, struggling to his feet then hauled himself back into his chair, wincing. "Fine. I got it," he spat, his pride clearly bruised.

He took a moment to collect himself, then leaned forward. "Assembling a team for this... it's gonna cost. We're talking serious hardware - drones, cutting-edge weapons, top-tier armor. Hell, we might even need to deploy mechs."

Brice waved a dismissive hand. "Resources aren't an issue. We'll provide whatever you need."

"And what about my ass? I want immunity. Just in case this shit goes sideways."

He scoffed at his pet's request for immunity. The man's audacity was almost amusing. Did this human really think he could bargain for protection against Les Ombres Sanglantes? Brice knew better. In their world, there was no such thing as immunity. If Xavier failed, he'd be disposable, just like any other pawn. The vampire found it pathetic how humans clung to false hopes of safety. Still, if it got the job done, Brice would play along with this charade. Let the fool believe he had some leverage. In the end, it wouldn't matter.

"Worried about your precious reputation?" Brice sneered. But after a moment, he nodded. "I can make some calls. Pull some strings in our network. We'll get you immunity from the EU Federal courts. Nothing like a little bribery to smooth things over."

"Alright then," Xavier said, rubbing his bruised neck. "Give me 48 hours. I'll have your kill squad ready."

"Good dog," Brice said before pacing out of the office, not bothering to look back as Xavier flipped him off behind his back. The vampire's smirk suggested he knew anyway.

Back in the limo, Brice slid into the plush leather seat. "EU Federal building, Jax," he ordered. "Make it fast."

As the vehicle lifted off, merging seamlessly into the aerial traffic lanes, Brice's phone buzzed. He tapped his ear implant.

"What?" he barked.

Colette's voice crackled through the connection. "Boss, I've got it"

Brice's eyes narrowed. "Got what?"

The limo weaved through the sky-scrapers of Paris, Jax's cybernetic reflexes guiding them past slower vehicles.

"All the evidence regarding highway A86," she asked. "Do you want me to get rid of it?"

The A86 incident - a clusterfuck he'd rather forget. Colette's words brought back memories of blood-soaked asphalt and shattered police vehicle. Azrael had been sloppy, leaving so many loose ends. Part of him wanted to nuke it all, erase every trace. But another part, the calculating predator, saw an opportunity. Maybe this evidence could be useful, a bargaining chip or a trap.

"No, hold onto it," he replied. "We might need leverage down the line."

"Understood. I'll keep it secure," Colette replied before cutting the line.

Brice gazed out the window, scanning the skyline of 32nd-century Paris. Towering spires of carbon nanotubes and graphene stretched towards the clouds, their surfaces alive with holographic advertisements and crawling data streams. Aerial traffic buzzed between the buildings - hovercars, delivery drones, and personal flight suits weaving hard patterns through designated skylanes.

Below, the old streets still wound their way through the city, now covered by massive enviro-domes to protect against the harsh climate. Through the transparent barriers, Brice could see the remnants of history - the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre - all dwarfed by the surrounding hyper-structures but carefully preserved as reminders of a bygone era.

The old Paris, the one he'd known in his human life, was barely recognizable beneath the futuristic facade. Part of him longed for the simpler times, when vampires could disappear into dark alleys and fog-shrouded streets. Now, they were forced to adapt, to blend in with the neon and chrome. He sneered at the thought. Humans and their endless progress, always pushing forward without a thought for what they might lose. Still, he had to admit there was a certain thrill to navigating this new world, to bending its technology to serve the ancient ways of his kind.

As they approached the governmental district, the EU Federal building came into view. A massive structure of gleaming alloys and smart-glass, it dominated the skyline. Holographic projections of the EU flag and various member states' emblems rotated slowly around its upper levels. Security drones patrolled its perimeter, their sensors sweeping for any potential threats.

The building represented the pinnacle of human bureaucracy - a bloated, self-important institution that thought it could control the uncontrollable. He scoffed at the idea of these politicians and paper-pushers believing they held any real power. They were like children playing at being adults, unaware of the true forces that shaped their world. Yet, he knew the value of maintaining appearances, of working within the system when necessary. It was a game he'd played for centuries, manipulating human institutions to serve vampire interests. Today would be no different - another performance in an endless charade.

Jax maneuvered the hover-limo, descending smoothly to merge with the ground-level traffic. The vehicle glided through the final stretch before coming to a stop at the heavily fortified entrance.

A stern-faced military police officer approached. "Identification please," he barked.

Brice lowered the window, the tinted smart-glass dissolving into transparency. He handed over his ID chip, maintaining a bored expression.

The MP scanned it with his mini-tablet computer. His demeanor shifted instantly as he recognized the passenger. He snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute. "Welcome, Ambassador Olivier."

Brice accepted the returned ID with a curt nod, not bothering to acknowledge the salute. The fortified gates slid open, energy shields flickering momentarily as they deactivated to allow passage.

Jax guided the hover-limo through the checkpoint, the vehicle's whisper-quiet engine barely audible as they entered the compound. Brice's eyes narrowed, taking in the additional layers of security - bio-metric scanners, EMP dampeners, and camouflaged weapon emplacements.

As they approached the main entrance, he allowed himself a small smirk. The EU Federal building may be a fortress, but it was nothing compared to the predator that now walked its halls. He stepped out of the vehicle, straightening his impeccable suit, playing the role of diplomat.