An energy blast shattered the roof of the vehicle. Another assailant leapt inside. Unlike the others, this one ignored the guards—his gaze locked directly onto Aren.
One of the guards rushed forward to stop him. With a single move, the attacker hurled him against the wall. The screech of metal mingled with the sickening crack of breaking bones.
The flames around the vehicle grew higher. The attacker advanced toward Aren in slow, deliberate steps. Only one guard remained standing; sweat dripped down his forehead. He raised his weapon with trembling hands.
"Stay back! He's the kingdom's prisoner—you can't touch him!"
The assailant gave no reply. With a swift strike, he knocked the weapon aside. He seized the guard by the throat and lifted him into the air with one hand.
The man thrashed, gasping for breath. A sharp twist—his neck snapped—and the guard's struggles ended.
The attacker flung the body aside as if discarding trash. Aren raised his chains and looked at him, a widening smile spreading across his lips.
"So, you didn't come here to rescue me?"
The assailant raised his weapon. As energy gathered, the air hung thick with the stench of burning flesh. Shadows from the flames danced across Aren's chained body.
Then, a blinding light swallowed everything. A crushing blow struck him before Aren could understand what was happening.
***
Aren stirred, regaining awareness of the sting of salt air in his throat and the creaking of wooden planks beneath him. Opening his eyes, he saw storm clouds swirling above, the sky cracking as though ready to split apart.
Towering waves tossed the ship like a toy. The vessel struggled forward through the tempest.
The storm was fierce—waterspouts twisted across the ocean, ready to devour the vessel. Lightning tore through the sky. Aren could make out the crew scrambling across the deck.
What happened last? His thoughts tangled as he tried to piece it together. After leaving the trial, I was put in the transport. Then it was attacked—they tried to kill me. They were strong, far too strong.
He remembered the unknown assailants. The way they struck—their precision—it was unmistakable. They were Nyx. If you look at the way they attacked, you can see they're professionals. Did they want to assassinate me? But why?
I was already being sent to IMFA prison. Whoever wanted me dead could have waited—my death there would have raised no questions. Why draw so much attention?
Wait… could they have been trying to rescue me?But no—the moment he raised his weapon against me, that possibility ended.
And the guards—they were slaughtered outright, not bypassed. As if to leave no witnesses alive. And that light at the end… what was it?
Thoughts spun through Aren's mind. Glancing around, he saw he was inside a cage—iron bars like something meant for beasts. Shackles of tianum metal bound his wrists. He wasn't alone. Three others shared the cage with him.
One of them was an old man, his skin sagging, his face etched with wrinkles as deep as valleys. His gray eyes glimmered with malice. When their gazes met, the man grinned, revealing yellow teeth, half-rotten and missing in places. Aren turned away in disgust.
In the far corner sat a young man, knees drawn tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them. His chin rested on his knees, lips muttering inaudibly. His brown hair was greasy, matted from days unwashed, and his almond-shaped eyes stared with vacant eyes.
"Looks like a coward, doesn't he?" she said, a wry smile playing at her lips. Her tone was casual, almost playful, as if they weren't trapped in this dire place.
Aren's gaze followed her as she slid closer. Short blond hair framed a strikingly pretty face, and her bright blue eyes carried a lively spark—but her features betrayed the truth: she was barely eighteen.
"That old man..." She wrinkled her nose at the grinning elder. "Makes me sick just looking at him. By the way, I'm Samantha. What's your name?"
After a pause, Aren's voice cut through, low and steady: "What about me, Samantha?"
"What?" Her smile faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes. The crimson eyes fixed on her were steady, patient, but carried a weight that pressed against her.
Then the meaning clicked. Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Hmm… you look like the type who cuts off heads and keeps them as trophies."
Aren's lips stretched into a thin smile. A low laugh rumbled from his throat. But his eyes held no warmth.
"Hmm." A murmur rumbled from his throat. "Your head wouldn't have been worth much."
The words were spoken like a joke, but they cut like knives. Samantha's grin froze, her eyes widening as realization struck. Did he just—insult me?
Her laugh faltered, splintering into disbelief. She hadn't expected to be belittled by someone younger.
He let out a low, humorless chuckle, eyes never leaving her face.
Samantha, stung, was about to lash out when the air around them shifted. The storm still raged. Yet the atmosphere grew colder, heavier.
On the horizon, the first glow of dawn seeped through. The storm had abated. Still, the sea roiled with mountainous waves, its foaming surface restless, as if some beast stirred beneath.
Thick white snow drifted down from the clouds, lending a strange serenity to the chaos. It felt as if a monster might rise at any moment, a monster might rise from the depths and shatter the fragile stillness.
Soon after, a dense fog swallowed the sea. From within it, towering shapes emerged—dark silhouettes rising like the bones of giants. As the ship drew nearer, they revealed themselves to be massive stone pillars, jutted from the ocean's depths. They vanished, then reappeared in the mist.
The vessel pressed forward, threading its way through the haunting maze of rocks.