A few days later, the group reconvened in the same small cabin. The wooden floor groaned softly beneath their feet, and a faint layer of dust still hung in the air. Outside, daylight was dimmed by the heavy curtains, leaving only a narrow sliver of light slicing through the darkness like a blade concealed in shadow.
Jim sat calmly on the worn-out sofa at the center of the room, hands folded over his knees. He glanced around, his tone casual but firm:
"Well… it's been a few days. Now, can you finally tell me—what exactly do you have in your possession?"
The air tensed slightly.
No one spoke, but their responses came nonetheless.
Elias moved first. From his pocket, he withdrew a small glass case. He opened it gently, revealing a faintly glowing shard—the very one Livia had found in the cave and entrusted to him. The shard caught the angled light, reflecting a soft golden sheen, like a relic whispering ancient secrets.
Another man in black said nothing. He simply reached into his coat and handed Jim a photo—one that showed a different fragment, uniquely shaped but equally intricate in its engravings. It rested on a bed of black velvet, quiet but unmistakably real.
The third participant presented similar proof—another photograph, another fragment of the Holy Grail.
Jim smiled, nodding with the ease of someone who had expected this outcome. He spoke like a conductor gently confirming his orchestra's tune:
"Good. I don't need you to hand them over—just confirmation that they exist."
Everyone silently, collectively avoided the word surrender.
As the tension began to settle and the conversation took on a more cooperative tone, Livia suddenly spoke:
"Actually… I've been thinking about that piece you showed us before. Would you mind if I… saw it again?"
Her voice was soft but carried a quiet power, like a drop falling into still water, rippling outward.
Jim raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling with mild amusement.
"Oh? You're interested in it?"
Livia nodded, her gaze steady, clear, and sharp.
"It's not out of greed. It's just… as a researcher, I need to confirm a few things."
She paused, her eyes drifting to the shard at Jim's side.
"May I… touch it?"
The room froze.
Elias turned sharply to look at her, something turbulent flickering in his eyes—shock, worry… and a trace of unspoken understanding.
He knew she shouldn't touch the fragment—her connection to the Holy Grail was something he had never been able to fully understand. He also knew that a single touch might trigger something none of them could predict.
But he also understood Livia.
That look in her eyes—quiet but unyielding—meant more than stubbornness. She wasn't doing this to challenge Jim. She was reaching for something hidden, a truth buried beneath years of silence. She wanted to feel the fragment for herself, to confront a history that everyone else refused to name.
She wasn't just probing for authenticity.
She was laying the groundwork for a deeper move.
Elias remained silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded—just once, a flicker of something like grim determination in his eyes.
If you're going to do this, he thought, then I'll stand watch.
Jim, meanwhile, narrowed his gaze, his smirk deepening. He looked like a man measuring not the risk—but the nerve of his opponent. He didn't believe she could steal anything under his nose. And even if she tried, he was confident he could reclaim it without trouble.
"Alright," he said at last.
From his coat, he drew a black case and opened it. Resting inside was the Grail fragment—worn, gleaming faintly, humming with that same unsettling presence as before. He extended it toward her, palm open.
"Be my guest."
Livia inhaled deeply, then slowly reached out. Her fingertips brushed the surface of the fragment—
Snap.
It was as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
Her body jerked violently, then collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her eyes lost focus in an instant. She fell backward, landing hard on the wooden floor with a dull, sickening thud.
Elias's expression twisted—but he didn't move.
The others were frozen, too stunned to react.
Jim's brow furrowed slightly. He remained seated, but now—finally—his eyes betrayed something real: surprise.
He stared at Livia's body for a few seconds, murmuring under his breath:
"So… you do react to it."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Like a tomb.
And from that moment, the first seed of true chaos had been planted—quietly, but irreversibly.