↳ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹: 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙖 𝙭 𝘾𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙖 - 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

⍜

[ male reader ]

The village doesn't look like a village anymore. It's a society, a civilisation tucked away behind expansive plots of land and treacherous mountains. Guarded by ferocious lycans that wander the perimeter endlessly day by day, waiting impatiently for some poor, unfortunate soul to land in their claws.

Over time more factories were erected and dotted across unclaimed territory, all of which were put under Heisenberg's name. Jobs were given to the unemployed. It gave them second chances and put enough money in their pockets for them to continue living here.

But at the end of the day everything is controlled by two men, both feared and respected by residents in the village. Whose names alone leave even the most powerful figureheads trembling behind their wads of cash.

You and your brother.

—

You return the cigar to your lips and take a long drag, adding to the tufts of thick smoke coughed from the chimneys of buzzing factories. Clangs from machinery can be heard for miles. Workers wipe their foreheads with the backs of their hands, lugging crates in from horse-drawn trailers.

Women offer you tight smiles on their way past. Some are more polite than others, but only those you have helped. Men are less inclined to display such manners, since most view you as competition, so they simply tip their hats and continue with their day.

You merely acknowledge them with sweeping glances as you stride between homes, disappearing through the main doors of the oldest factory. Refurbished machines toil away while men heave heavy parts and tools across the various levels.

Gruff laughter travels from below. You descend the stairs and pass by more workers, each of them greeting you with honest smiles. They can't not be happy to see you. You're the reason they have jobs after all.

The door to the meeting room is wide open, naturally booming voices circulating around the lower deck. Your brother sits in his usual seat at the table with a beaming smile, arms extending once you enter.

"There he is!" He rasps.

"Morning, Ronnie." You snuff out your cigar in the ashtray and slide your hands into your pockets. "Tommy." You then nod to the man perched on the desk behind him.

Heisenberg retrieves a file from a drawer in his desk, nudging it shut with his thigh before handing it over to you. His arms cross over his chest, leaning back against his desk by the stained windows. He watches you flip it open and scrutinise the figures.

Due to the humidity in the factory his coat is discarded over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up to his elbows, and tan coloured suspenders left to hang around his legs. He scratches his beard with a quiet hum.

"Good." You snap the file shut.

"Good?" Ronnie glimpses it once it drops onto the table. "[Y/n], this is better than good. Our figures doubled overnight."

"I see that." You brace your hands on the table. He grumbles incoherently and waves his hand through the air. Heisenberg wears a light smile at the typical interaction. "Did you speak to Mason?"