The glowing butterfly formed from pure magical energy drifted gracefully through the air, phasing effortlessly through any humans or obstacles in its path.
Zack and the others had to constantly weave around surprised pedestrians as they raced down a narrow alley, the radiant light of the butterfly guiding them like a divine beacon.
"This place..."
The butterfly finally came to a halt at an eerie, secluded corner of the Eastern District. Before them stood an old mansion, surrounded by a wide, overgrown yard. The building was crumbling with age, vines tangled through broken windows and cracks in the stone walls, giving it the unmistakable air of a haunted house abandoned long ago. The atmosphere around it felt heavy—unnatural.
"Y-You're sure Ico is here…?" Silva asked, her voice unusually shaken.
For someone usually so composed, Silva's pale expression and slightly trembling hands betrayed her nerves.
"There's no doubt," Zack replied, eyes locked on the ghostly butterfly. "The fang mark led us straight here."
"I-I see…"
He raised an eyebrow at her hesitation. "You look pale, Silva. Don't tell me… you're scared?"
He meant it teasingly, but Silva's overreaction gave her away.
"R-Ridiculous! Of course not!"
But the lie was obvious. Despite her royal demeanor and sharp tongue, Silva was more fragile than she let on—especially in places like this.
"A-Anyway," she continued, straightening up in an attempt to hide her unease, "we don't have many options. If something happens, I'll summon Lancelot and burn this place to the ground."
Zack smirked. "Now that's more like it."
"No, no, that's definitely not okay!" Shanon interjected with a laugh, her tone light but warning. "We're still in the middle of the city. Please don't encourage her, Shanon!"
Their playful bickering was cut short as the butterfly drifted forward, slipping silently through the heavy iron doors of the mansion.
Silva inhaled deeply. "We really have no other choice. We follow the butterfly."
"I'm coming, Ico...!"
Zack pushed open the rusted gate with a loud, teeth-grating creak. The iron hinges protested, scraping like something out of a nightmare.
As they stepped into the garden, Silva let out a gasp.
"What in the world…?"
Spread evenly across the overgrown yard were large stone slabs—each arranged in a precise pattern, like a complex magical formation. Embedded at the center of each slab was a Bright Dragon Crystal, glowing with an ethereal shimmer. The energy that pulsed from them made Zack's skin tingle.
"They look like… Oracle activators," Silva whispered, her voice heavy with disbelief.
Zack stopped beside her, eyes narrowing.
"For a place that looks like it's about to collapse… this much Bright Dragon Crystal? That's not normal. You'd need a royal fortune to afford even a fraction of this."
Shanon frowned. "This whole setup reeks of something sinister. We should find out who owns this place before going any further—"
"No," Zack cut her off sharply. "We don't have time. Ico could be in danger. We move now."
Silva clenched her fists. She couldn't argue. Though her instincts screamed caution, Zack's urgency was justified. Time was ticking, and their friend could be suffering—or worse.
"W-Wait for me!" Silva cried, chasing after him, her long blonde hair flowing behind her.
Zack didn't look back. All that mattered now was Ico.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.༄
Bathed in a familiar, warm glow, Ico slowly blinked awake. A soft yawn escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light above.
She remembered… she had gone to the restroom near the shopping district to wash her hands. But everything after that was a haze—blank, like someone had wiped her memory clean.
Then, the realization hit her.
Her body tensed.
"W-What… the hell is this?!"
Ico was lying on her back, staring up at a sterile ceiling. Her arms were restrained above her head, and her legs were bound apart with cruel precision. Cold air licked her bare skin, making her shiver. Aside from her knee-high socks, she was completely naked—exposed, vulnerable, and humiliated.
Thick, leather-like restraints, reinforced with metallic threading, held her firmly in place. She struggled, her lithe body twisting and arching, but she couldn't move—not even an inch.
"H-Hey! What's going on?! Let me go!"
Her panicked voice echoed in the sealed room. She looked around with wide, trembling eyes.
There were no windows. The only illumination came from crystalline lamps embedded in the ceiling—Bright Dragon Crystals, softly pulsing with energy. As a dragon, Ico could feel the faint thrum of power radiating from them. They were familiar… almost comforting, if not for the setting.
The rest of the room, however, sent chills down her spine.
Surgical instruments lined the nearby counters—gleaming scalpels, clamps, and vials filled with unknown fluids. Stacked bookshelves were crammed with ancient tomes and disorganized documents. Nearby, on a metallic table, rested something grotesque: a dissected dragon specimen, half preserved, half decayed.
The lifeless glass eyes of the beast stared directly at her.
Her breath caught.
"Where… am I…?"
Just then, a door creaked open slowly, the sound slicing through the tense silence.
A woman stepped into the room—tall, composed, wearing a pristine white lab coat. Her high heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor. Her glasses reflected the crystalline light, hiding her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" she asked calmly, her tone too casual for the situation.
"Who are you?!" Ico snapped, her voice laced with panic and fury. "How dare you do this to me?!"
Unfazed, the woman smirked. "You're spirited. I like that."
The click of her heels echoed as she approached the table, each step deliberate and filled with quiet menace.
"I still can't believe it… A dragon, born in the form of a human."
"What did you say…?" Ico's breath hitched.
The woman's words struck deep. So she knew. This wasn't a coincidence—she had kidnapped Ico fully aware of what she truly was.
"What were the dragons thinking, sending such a young and delicate one like you into this world? Were they that desperate?"
"H-How should I know?! I didn't ask for this!" Ico snapped, her cheeks flushed—part from anger, part from shame at being so thoroughly restrained and displayed.
The woman stepped even closer, leaning over her, her breath brushing against Ico's collarbone.
"I wonder… are you really that clueless? You should have inherited ancestral memories, shouldn't you? Dragons often carry the knowledge of those who came before them."
"Tch… If you're talking about the Dragweiss," Ico growled through clenched teeth, "then I'll have to disappoint you. I can't access it. Not yet."
The woman straightened, pushing her glasses up with a single finger.
"I see. Then I'll just have to ask your body directly."
"H-Huh…?"
Suddenly, her hand moved—and with a flick of her wrist, something silver flashed through the air.
Thunk!
A scalpel buried itself into the wall, right beside Ico's head. She flinched, sweat beading on her exposed skin.
"Y-You… You wouldn't—!"
"Dissection," the woman said with unsettling calmness, drawing a second scalpel from her coat pocket, "is the foundation of all biological study."