The first light of dawn was a cruel, unwelcome intruder. It filtered through the canvas of my tent, painting the small space in shades of grey and exposing the utter devastation of my own surrender. Every muscle in my body was a raw, screaming nerve. My mana pool, once a vast and placid lake, felt like a drained, muddy bog. I was a king who had been thoroughly conquered, a tyrant who had been forced to kneel, and the exhaustion was a bone-deep thing that went far beyond the physical.
I lay on the rumpled bedroll, my body refusing to obey the simple command to move. Across the small space, Lana stood with her back to me, as unaffected as if she'd just had a refreshing night's sleep. The moonlight silhouetted her form as she slowly, gracefully, pulled her torn combat uniform back on. She moved with a languid, feline satisfaction, the victor of a battle I hadn't even known I was fighting.
"Don't forget your promise," I said, my voice a dry, raw rasp. It took a monumental effort just to speak. "You won't tell any of them. About Edgar."
She paused, pulling her shirt down over her hips. She turned her head slightly, a sly, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I know," she said, her tone light and dismissive. "A deal's a deal."
"And you will not blackmail me for this again," I added, pushing myself up on one elbow, the movement sending a wave of nausea through me. "This was a one-time transaction."
She turned fully then, her amethyst eyes dancing with a triumphant, manic light. She walked over and knelt in front of me, her face just inches from mine. "Oh, Dante," she purred, tracing a single finger over my lips. "I won't blackmail you. I promise." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But next time, it won't be through blackmail."
The implication hung in the air, a threat more potent than any weapon. She wasn't just my blackmailer anymore. She believed she was my partner. An equal. The thought was galling.
"One more thing," I said, my voice cold as ice. "Not a word about last night. To anyone."
"Of course not," she giggled, standing up and stretching like a contented cat. "I'm not stupid. Why would I share my favorite new toy?" She walked to the tent flap, then paused. "I'll keep our little secret... for now. But I can't say what might slip out after we end the trial. When the rules change again."
Saying so, she slipped out of the tent, leaving me alone in the oppressive silence, her parting words a poison dart left quivering in my soul. She had won this round, but the game was far from over. I had made a tactical error in underestimating her, in underestimating the power of chaotic, obsessive desire. It was a mistake I would not make again. I now had two problems: a team on the verge of fracturing, and a beautiful, maniacal devil who held a leash around my neck.
Just as I was processing this new, infuriating variable, the sounds started. A single, sharp gasp from outside my tent, followed by a low, dangerous growl. I recognized it instantly. Erica. The air outside crackled with a sudden, intense heat.
With a groan, I forced my protesting body to move. Every motion was a fresh agony. I somehow managed to pull on my clothes and stumble out of the tent into the full, damning light of day.
The scene at the center of the camp was a powder keg with a lit fuse. Erica stood trembling, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles were white, the air around her shimmering with a dangerous, contained heat. Her face, usually pale and shy, was a mask of pure, unadulterated betrayal and rage. She had clearly seen Lana emerge from my tent.
Across from her, Lana leaned casually against a tree, her arms crossed, a look of smug, playful amusement on her face as she watched Erica's meltdown. Talia stood off to the side, silent and watchful, smart enough to stay out of the blast radius.
"—in his tent! All night!" Erica was screaming, her voice cracking with a pain that was almost palpable. Tears of fury streamed down her face. "You… you snake! How could you?"
"My, my," Lana said, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "Such a temper. And so early in the morning." She pushed herself off the tree and sauntered forward, circling Erica like a predator sizing up its prey. "Are you talking about Dante? Of course I was in his tent. He was so tired after our big adventure in the labyrinth. He needed someone to look after him."
"Liar!" Erica shrieked. "You… you defiled him!"
Lana stopped and burst into a bright, tinkling laugh that was utterly devoid of humor. "Defiled him? Oh, sweetie, you have it all wrong." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was loud enough for everyone to hear. "This wasn't the first time. I don't need your permission to sleep with Dante, you know. I've done it many times, back in our old world. We're practically family."
The word 'family' was a deliberate, surgical strike, designed to inflict maximum damage. It was a claim to a history, an intimacy that Erica could never touch. Erica flinched as if she'd been physically struck, her fiery aura wavering for a moment.
"And besides," Lana continued, her smile turning cruel, "we didn't do any bad things. We just talked. And cuddled. He was so cold, you see. I had to keep him warm." She looked Erica up and down with a dismissive glance. "It's not my fault you weren't there for him when he needed someone. You were fast asleep, dreaming your sad little dreams, while I was taking care of our leader. A real partner would have been more attentive, don't you think?"
The gaslighting was masterful. It was a venomous cocktail of truth, lies, and condescension. Lana was painting herself as the caring, responsible one while framing Erica's righteous fury as childish jealousy.
Erica let out a choked sob, her control finally snapping. "I will burn you to ash," she whispered, the words a low, dangerous promise. The air ignited around her fists, no longer just shimmering, but erupting into two roaring spheres of white-hot plasma.
"Stop."
My voice cut through the tension like a blade.
My arrival silenced them instantly. They both turned to face me, their expressions a canvas of conflicting emotions. Erica's rage was instantly replaced by a look of profound hurt and desperation, her fiery power flickering as she saw the exhaustion on my face. Lana's eyes, however, shone with a possessive, triumphant light. She had created this chaos, and now she was watching me, her prize, step in to clean it up.
I walked into the center of the standoff, my exhausted body moving with a rigid, forced authority. I didn't look at Lana. My gaze settled on Erica, my most powerful, most volatile asset.
"The fire, Erica," I said, my voice quiet, but carrying the unmistakable weight of command. "Put it out. Now."
She looked from me to Lana, her lip trembling, a war raging within her. But in the end, her ingrained loyalty, her obsessive need for my approval, won out. With a shuddering breath, the plasma spheres on her hands sputtered and died.
"We do not have time for this," I said, my voice sweeping over all of them, cold and sharp as a shard of ice. "While you are here, squabbling like children over perceived slights, other teams are getting stronger. They are hunting, they are claiming artifacts, they are preparing to kill us and take everything we have fought for. The betrayal of Derek's team was not an exception. It is the rule in this world."
I let the weight of my words sink in. "Our internal division is a weakness our enemies will exploit. This childish, emotional nonsense ends now. Lana is a member of this team. Erica is a member of this team. You will treat each other with professional respect, or you will answer to me. Is that understood?"
No one spoke. The tension remained, a thick, suffocating blanket over the camp, but the immediate threat of violence had passed. I had reasserted my control.
"Good," I said, turning away from them. "Pack your things. We are leaving. We need to find Eric's team and regroup."
I started walking toward the edge of the camp, not waiting to see if they followed. I knew they would. They were my tools, my weapons. And for now, they still obeyed. But as I walked, I felt Lana's triumphant gaze on my back, and I knew that my control over my own team was a fragile, dangerous illusion.
Just as we finished packing our meager camp, a sound came from the edge of the woods. The heavy, rhythmic tread of armored feet. We all froze, weapons appearing in our hands in an instant. Talia melted into the shadows. My spectral Edgar stood ready.
A group of figures emerged from the purple gloom. At the lead was Eric, his massive tower shield held ready, his face set in a grim line. Behind him were Masha, Jin, Rina, and Kael. They had found us.
They stopped short, their eyes widening as they took in the scene. They saw our exhausted, battered forms. They saw the lingering scorch marks on the ground where Erica's power had flared. They saw the tear tracks on Erica's face, the smug, satisfied smirk on Lana's, and the cold, weary mask of authority on mine. They didn't know what had happened, but the toxic, suffocating tension in our small group was as palpable as a physical wall.
Masha's sharp, intelligent eyes swept over us, and I could see the questions forming, the analytical mind piecing together the broken fragments of our disastrous morning. The two halves of our fractured group were finally reunited, but we were more divided than ever before.