Kael could feel the weight of everything around him pressing down on his body. The pain stabbing through his chest made it hard to breathe, but the real struggle wasn't physical. The strangeness of the beings around him, the conversations that twisted reality, the magic… and now, the approaching footsteps.
Kael was shaken by the rhythm of the steps around him. Each one echoed like the growing beat of a fear swelling in his heart. A voice rang out—deep, strong, commanding: "Open your eyes!" It came from Luther.
Luther's voice cracked through the night like lightning. This time there was no anger in his tone—only astonishment. He had realized something. He had understood that Kael hadn't fainted. Kael's eyelids parted involuntarily. Not much time had passed since they thought he'd passed out—but they had quickly realized they were wrong.
Only one person had noticed this, silently watching them. Saying nothing. Giving no reaction. Simply observing—as if they had known everything in advance, calm and prepared.
When Luther saw Kael's eyes open, his lips curled into a smirk. In a voice almost mocking, he whispered, "You really didn't pass out? Even after that hit?" His voice was cold, like a blade echoing through a dark forest. His eyes measured Kael's relentless resistance with both scorn and a trace of respect.
Kael, writhing in pain, reached for his head. Waves of agony rippled through his face. "What… are you doing?" he murmured, his voice still broken. But Luther remained silent. His wordless presence rendered Kael's every resistance meaningless. Like a crushing weight, no matter how much Kael struggled, his eyes began to slowly close again.
As Luther slowly withdrew his hand from Kael's head, Kael's head sank downward, heavy. He could feel it—this was one of those moments where resistance was futile. But just as he was on the verge of giving in completely, Luther spoke in a deep and mocking voice: "Go on then. Let's see how deep you sleep."
As Kael's consciousness met darkness, an image appeared before his eyes—of the woman bowing with reverence. The woman whose voice he had heard but hadn't fully understood… was now standing before him in all her magnificence.
Her outfit was entirely black—a black coat, matching black trousers, a thick belt… Every detail resembled the night itself. Her stance was indescribably powerful; upright, unwavering, a will that could not be broken. Her every movement seemed to defy the world around her, like one of the angels of darkness and death stepping on everything beneath her. Her eyes were the deepest shade of black, cold and piercing.
Kael couldn't hide his shock. A single word slipped from his lips, his eyes locked onto hers, filled with fear, awe, and helplessness:
"Liora?"
Her gaze was cold, but something was hidden behind it. She was studying Kael as if seeing him for the first time, but at the same time, this meeting felt like it had been written in fate long ago.
Liora looked at her watch again. That crimson, dragon-etched watch glimmered on her wrist—a mystery that remained unsolved for Kael. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the surroundings, and spoke in a firm tone, devoid of mockery:
"Let's go. Hurry. We've wasted more than enough time. If you don't want to be scolded, we should get moving now."
Her words were spoken with mechanical resolve; there was no empathy, no concern in them. Not a single trace of emotion on her face. She didn't even look at Kael. To her, this was merely a delayed mission—yet for Kael, this was the moment everything shattered.
Kael remained still where he lay. As Liora's words echoed in his mind, a familiar feeling rose within him: betrayal.Once again.Once again, from where he least expected.And this time, it hurt more—because this time… he had made an exception.
The words he had repeated to himself countless times, over and over, now rang in his ears:"You are alone in this world. No one will save you. No one will hold your hand. No one will carry you."
Kael knew this. He had lived by it. But still, deep inside, somewhere quietly, he had thought he'd formed a bond.What a foolish delusion.
At first, there was emptiness inside him—then it grew. But the emptiness didn't turn into heartbreak. Nor into pain.Only… into cold hatred.But that hatred wasn't for Liora—not for a person—but for life itself.For the wretched order that shoved him away with thorned hands every time, that dug a thousand pits while offering a path forward, for this broken reality.
There was no expression left on his face. His heart beat, his lungs drew air, his body moved—but the Kael within was slowly retreating behind a closing door.And that door was about to be locked.
Kael's eyes slowly closed. The storm inside him, the tangled thoughts, the suppressed emotions all fell silent, leaving only stillness behind. His mind was weary, and his body had surrendered. As his eyelids closed heavily, the heartbreak and hatred in his heart seemed to pause—if only for a moment.
In that moment of silence, it was as if the world had frozen for him, and time had broken away from its flow.
Liora saw that Kael had passed out and slightly raised her head. A barely perceptible expression appeared on her face; as a cloud of complex, unreadable thought passed through her eyes, she hesitated for a moment.It was as if she was trying to understand him—but couldn't make sense of what was stirring within her. Her mind was clouded with uncertain questions; perhaps she felt the weight of what this young man had seen, lived, and felt—but refused to admit it.
Liora looked at Kael for a while. Her eyes were expressionless, but her inner thoughts still lingered like shadows beneath the surface of her face. Then she slowly turned her head to the others. With that cold, commanding posture, she parted her lips.
Words echoed from her mouth:"Let's go."
Her voice rang through the empty street. She wasn't shouting, nor whispering. Yet her words seemed etched into the walls.There was such clarity in her tone, such a sense of finality—it wasn't a request, but an order.
Without objection, everyone began to move.
As the team behind her began to follow, Liora took one last look at Kael's unmoving body. That fleeting, indescribable emotion in her eyes hadn't fully vanished—but her face showed none of it. As her black coat flared and she began to walk, a new silence was born in the daylight.
Kael's eyes suddenly opened. His eyelids were heavy—he had to strain his will just to lift them. A throbbing pain pounded in his head—like it pulsed through his veins, synchronized with his heartbeat. He tried to take a deep breath, but even his chest felt constricted. Then he realized—
He couldn't move.
His arms were cuffed tightly behind his back. He was seated on a hard, cold chair. Thick straps bound his legs to it like belts. Every movement scraped metal against his skin, producing a sharp, screeching sound that echoed in the silent room.
His eyes darted around rapidly.
The room… was it a basement? The walls were made of crumbling stone blocks. Damp stains here and there, rusted pipe trails. A single bulb dangled from the ceiling, flickering with weak, yellow light—not bright enough to see clearly, but enough to disturb. The light stabbed into Kael's pupils like needles.
There was nothing else in the room. No window, no exit—only him, locked inside the remnants of an abandoned past.
"Where is this place?" he said, his voice cracked and hoarse. His lips were dry. A metallic taste lingered in his mouth—perhaps blood. He forced his mind to recall, to remember. "Liora… Luther… then… what happened after…?"
Fragments of memory played like a blurry film in his head. Darkness. A blow. The woman's eyes. The echo as he fell… Then, nothing.
Just then…
The door began to creak open.
The creaking—a grating sound like fingernails scraping wood—slowly peeled the silence apart as the door opened. Kael's heartbeat quickened. His eyes locked on the dark opening. Shadows mingled. Light slipped in from behind the door, illuminating more of the room—but the face of the one entering remained hidden.
Footsteps echoed. Slow. Measured. As if each step was part of some ritual.
Kael's skin crawled. His body was bound, but his mind was still free—and that mind now waged war with a thousand possibilities:"Am I going to be interrogated?""Is this some cult?""Or… do they want to use me?"
As the footsteps approached, the figure still said nothing. They merely circled Kael slowly, as if examining him. Kael felt that weight on the back of his neck. Not a touch—but a gaze. A heavy, penetrating stare. He couldn't see it, but a pair of eyes were staring directly at him.