> "So what's your deal, brat? You don't act like a slum kid."
Adexander didn't answer right away. He watched the spider meat blister and pop over the fire, the orange glow reflecting in his crimson eyes. He looked like he belonged in the flames—not beside them.
> "You kill like a veteran," Raik continued. "You don't flinch, don't hesitate. That's not normal. So—what are you running from?"
Adexander turned his head slightly. Not enough to face him. Just enough to let the silence bite deeper.
> "...I'm not running."
Raik raised a brow.
> "Oh? Then what? Revenge?"
> "No."
> "Glory?"
> "No."
> "Then why the hell are you out here bleeding in dungeons with bone weapons and that look in your eyes?"
Adexander's voice came low. A whisper, but sharp as broken steel.
> "Because I have to be."
Raik blinked.
> "What does that mean?"
No answer.
The fire popped.
> "Tch. You're cryptic as hell, Crimson. Fine. Keep your secrets."
He leaned back against the stone, closing one eye.
> "Just don't get yourself killed before I figure you out."
Adexander finally looked at him—just for a moment.
> "If I die… then I deserved it."
> "Hah! You sound like someone who's already died before."
Adexander's jaw tightened.
He said nothing.
---
Hours later, when Raik was asleep, Adexander stood at the edge of the collapsed chamber, gazing into the dark. The wind through the pit whispered faint words. Words only he could hear.
Faint. Faded.
> "You were a king once…"
He clenched his fists.
> "No."
> "I'm not him anymore."
He turned away and walked into the shadows, leaving the voice behind.
To Be Continued...