(TATB) Ch 40: The Family That Took Lilliput!

The mansion stood like a monument to excess, perched on an endless emerald lawn that seemed to stretch beyond the limits of the world. A path carved from pristine white marble cut through the verdant grass in a perfect line, leading to a roundabout where a massive fountain glittered beneath the starlight. Swans—elegantly sculpted from stone—arched their necks skyward, their mouths frozen mid-song as water cascaded from their wings into the pool below.

The house itself was bathed in warm golden light, every window gleaming as though it contained a sun of its own. Even from afar, it glowed like a beacon against the darkened countryside, a shining promise that luxury and power could be bought—and guarded.

A low hum rumbled into the night as a sleek, jet-black car rolled down the drive, its curves sharp, aggressive, and utterly flawless. A Gravion Seraph LX, one of the finest machines produced by Gravion Motors—a Brob automotive company known for building cars so powerful, they were considered aircraft-grade. The tires barely whispered against the marble as it glided to a stop before the grand steps of the mansion.

The driver—a man in a crisp white uniform—exited quickly and walked with silent precision around the car. He opened the rear door with a practiced bow, stepping aside as a woman emerged.

Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement—each step a declaration. She wore a sleek black dress that shimmered like obsidian under the light, the fabric hugging her form with designer precision. Her long brown hair fell in elegant waves down her back, and her makeup was done with the kind of detail that suggested time, effort, and probably a dedicated personal team.

This was Adrielle Viremont, owner and founder of HavenReach Development, the most powerful land reform and terraforming company in the Brob world. Her family name was older than some cities. The Viremonts had helped lay the groundwork for Brob expansion after the Integration Act, working hand-in-hand with the government to reshape the land—flattening mountains, draining valleys, and building the world that Brobs now called home.

She wasn't just wealthy. She was legacy.

As Adrielle stepped forward, the mansion's double doors opened in sync, revealing a line of staff waiting to receive her. White gloves, black coats, and heads bowed low.

Her eyes barely flicked over them. "Prepare the east hall," she said smoothly, her voice cutting through the air like silk-draped glass. "We'll be entertaining guests soon. And inform the board that I want updates on Project Skyfall by tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Miss Viremont," the head butler replied with a bow.

Adrielle didn't slow as she walked up the steps, already fishing a sleek silver tablet from her clutch. The screen lit up, casting a faint glow on her flawless face. Numbers, maps, and redacted reports flowed past her fingertips.

She paused just before entering the home, turning slightly to gaze over her lawn—the artificial stars overhead, the carefully engineered silence, the faraway hum of drones tending the back gardens. It was all hers.

Of course it was.

Adrielle Viremont had never known anything else.

Adrielle Viremont's heels echoed like a metronome on the polished marble as she stepped into the grand foyer of her mansion. The double doors closed behind her with a whisper of hydraulics, sealing out the night and the world that dared exist beyond her curated paradise.

The head maid was already waiting, as punctual as ever.

Or rather, head butler, though Adrielle never bothered with the semantics. The man, well into his sixties, was tall and composed, with silver hair swept back neatly and a monocle that rested with purpose in his left eye. His name was Sebastion Wrenford, a man with the patience of stone and the memory of a filing cabinet. He had served the Viremont estate longer than most people lived in one city.

"Welcome home, Miss Adrielle," Sebastion said, bowing slightly. "Might I inquire how the gala was? Did Lord Halberst Montclair finally learn the difference between wine and vinegar?"

Adrielle let out an unladylike scoff as she tossed her clutch onto a side table. "It was as dull as every other party hosted by aging windbags and their tax-evading wives. The only good thing was the alcohol—and that was just enough to keep me from gouging my eyes out with my salad fork."

Sebastion smiled politely, hands folded behind his back. "Shall I cancel next week's invitation to the Montclairs' annual moonlight masquerade?"

"Gods, yes. And burn the mask I wore this time. It reeks of disappointment."

She started walking toward the stairs, then paused and sighed. "There weren't even any sexy men I could flaunt my jewelry at. All I got were sleazy glances and one half-blind lord asking if I was my mother."

Sebastion raised an eyebrow. "The nerve. I shall have him audited."

That earned a chuckle from Adrielle, her fingers reaching up to toy with the delicate necklace that shimmered like a blood-red star at her throat. The chain was platinum, impossibly thin, but the pendant was the crown jewel—a tiny crimson crystal with edges as sharp as cut glass and a gleam that caught the eye with unnatural focus.

Her smirk deepened as her finger brushed across the crystal. Oh, it wasn't just jewelry.

Inside the gem, smaller than the point of a pin, was a secret. Her little prize. A Lilli, sealed away like a sacred treasure.

She ascended the sweeping staircase, her steps quiet now as the carpet swallowed the sound. Her bedroom was on the second floor, tucked behind a tall white door with gold trim. She entered with a slow exhale, kicking off her heels one by one, each landing with a satisfying thud.

She unhooked the necklace and held it up to her face, eyes squinting slightly.

There he was—barely more than a speck to her eyes, but alive nonetheless. Trapped inside the crystal, surrounded by its facets like a glittering prison. The tiny Lilli's form shifted slightly, confirming he was still conscious.

"In time, my little prize," Adrielle whispered, kissing the crystal with a smirk. "You'll have your moment to shine."

She walked over to her long wooden dresser, which stretched almost half the length of the room. Atop it sat what might look like a decorative tank to anyone uninitiated—an elegant glass enclosure filled with golden sand and dotted with hundreds of colorful specks that moved like living jewels under the light. All of them almost too small to make out with just her naked eye, unless they huddled together into groups. She smiled down at them, for they where her most treasured prizes and all of them where hers.

With practiced fingers, Adrielle touched a small switch on the necklace. The crystal opened with a soft click, the top half folding like petals. The little Lilli inside was slowly lowered onto the sand by a mechanical arm no larger than a grain of rice. He stumbled out of the crystal onto the warm ground, blinking under the lights.

"Maybe next time I'll get to show you off a little more," Adrielle cooed, lowering her face just above the tank, her breath stirring the grains. "You're much too cute to be hidden."

She laid the now-empty necklace beside the tank with care and began unzipping her dress. It slithered to the floor like spilled ink, and she disappeared into her walk-in closet for a fresh change into silk sleepwear. The lights in the room dimmed automatically, a soft, ambient glow replacing the harsh ceiling lights.

She padded barefoot toward her bed, thoughts already drifting toward tomorrow's meetings and power plays.

But not everything in the room was asleep.

Unseen by Adrielle, in the shadowed upper corner of the room, nestled behind a support beam near the ceiling, a figure crouched low.

He had been waiting—watching from the moment her car had pulled up.

Black clothes, black gloves, black mask. Only the glint of his eyes visible in the dim light.

The man cracked his knuckles quietly, lips curling into a smirk.

"Finally," he whispered. "Time for some action."