CHAPTER 16 – "BREAKOUT"
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*Earlier—inside the cell.*
Alkeos stared at Kael through the bars, his dark eyes narrowed. "Who is he?"
Theron adjusted his glasses. "His name is Kael. His village was burned three months ago. Everyone he knew—dead. He survived because he was hidden."
Alkeos's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. "And now he's here. Breaking into the Royal Jail."
"Now he's here," Theron confirmed, "because he's looking for the truth. Same as you."
Alkeos looked at Kael again, longer this time. "You don't look like much."
Kael met his gaze. "I'm not."
"Then why are you here?"
Kael stepped closer to the bars. "Because I couldn't protect my people. I couldn't save anyone." His voice was quiet, steady. "But I can protect the people I have now. I can find the truth. And I need people I can fight with."
Alkeos didn't respond.
Kael's hand tightened on the edge of his cloak. "I need you. And I promise—I'll protect you."
Alkeos stared at him for a long moment. Then his gaze drifted past Kael, past.
*"I'll protect you, Mother."*
*He was younger then. Smaller. Standing in front of the Empress with his fists clenched, his voice trembling but defiant.*
*She had smiled—sad, tired. "You don't need to protect me, Alkeos."*
*"I do."*
The memory faded.
Alkeos exhaled slowly and looked back at Kael. "You're serious."
"Yes."
Alkeos pushed himself to his feet. "Fine. Let's break out."
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*Present.*
The six guards fell fast.
Kael moved first, the black sword cutting through armor like it wasn't there. One guard collapsed, clutching his chest. Another stumbled back, his weapon clattering to the ground.
Theron fought with precision—short, efficient strikes, targeting joints and weak points. He wasn't strong, but he knew exactly where to hit.
Alkeos fought with his bare hands. He was slower than he should have been, weaker, but there was something in the way he moved—instinct, training, muscle memory. He ducked under a swing, drove his fist into a guard's ribs, then swept his leg out from under him.
Within seconds, all six were down.
Kael lowered his sword, breathing hard. "That was—"
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. Echoing down the corridor.
Kael turned.
Two figures emerged from the shadows at the far end of the passage. The silver-haired woman and the scarred man—the real interrogators.
They walked without hurry, without hesitation. The woman's expression was cold, unreadable. The man cracked his knuckles, his scarred jaw twisting into something that might have been a smile.
"You finally decided to break out," the woman said, her voice flat. "Good. Now we can kill you without hesitation."
Kael's grip tightened on his sword.
The scarred man moved first.
He didn't run. He didn't charge. He just *moved*—fast, impossibly fast—and suddenly he was in front of Alkeos, his fist driving toward his face.
Alkeos barely blocked in time. His forearm caught the blow, and the impact sent him sliding back across the stone floor.
*He's strong.*
Alkeos steadied himself, his breathing sharp. He could feel the suppression field pressing down on him, dampening his Eidric flow, but it wasn't gone. Not completely.
He pulled what he could—channeling energy into his arms, his legs, reinforcing his body. It wasn't much. But it was enough.
The scarred man came at him again.
Alkeos sidestepped, driving his elbow into the man's ribs. The man grunted but didn't falter. He spun, his fist cutting through the air where Alkeos's head had been a second earlier.
Close. Too close.
Alkeos ducked low, sweeping his leg out. The man jumped over it, landing smoothly, then lunged forward with a straight punch aimed at Alkeos's chest.
Alkeos caught his wrist, twisted, and drove his knee into the man's stomach.
The man staggered back, his breath hitching. But he was smiling.
"Not bad," he said. "For a prisoner."
Alkeos didn't respond. He adjusted his stance, his fists raised. His body ached.
The scarred man cracked his neck. "Let's see how long you last."
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Kael didn't have time to watch.
The silver-haired woman moved toward him, her hand resting on the hilt of a blade at her side. She didn't draw it yet. She didn't need to.
"Swordsman," she said quietly. "Interesting."
Kael raised the blade. "Stay back."
She tilted her head. "Or what?"
Theron grabbed Kael's arm. "Run."
"What?"
"Plan B. Run. *Now.*"
Kael hesitated for only a second. Then he turned and ran.
The woman's eyes narrowed. She drew her blade and followed.
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They sprinted up the corridor, boots pounding against stone. Kael could hear the woman behind them—her footsteps light, controlled, closing the distance.
Theron veered left at a junction, pulling Kael with him. "This way!"
"Where are we going?"
"Second level! To your friends!"
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. The suppression field was lighter here, the air less suffocating, but the woman was still behind them.
They reached a staircase and climbed—two steps at a time, their breathing ragged.
Behind them, the woman's voice echoed up the corridor. "You can't run forever."
Theron didn't answer. He just kept climbing.
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Second level.
The corridor was wider here, lined with cells. Kael scanned them as they ran, his eyes darting from one to the next.
"There!" Theron pointed.
Two figures sat inside a cell near the end of the passage—one with dark hair, one with a scarred jaw.
Liora. Rynn.
Kael skidded to a stop in front of the cell and raised his sword. The blade cut through the bars like smoke, and they crumbled into black ash.
Liora looked up sharply. "Kael?"
"Move," Kael said.
Rynn didn't need to be told twice. She pushed herself to her feet and stepped out of the cell, her eyes scanning the corridor. "What's happening?"
"Breakout," Theron said. "No time to explain."
Liora followed, her gaze locking onto Kael. "You shouldn't have come."
"Too late."
Footsteps echoed from the staircase.
The silver-haired woman appeared at the top, her blade drawn, her expression cold.
"There you are," she said.
Kael stepped forward, his sword raised.
Liora moved beside him, her hand already glowing faintly with Eidric energy.
Rynn cracked her knuckles. "About time."
Theron exhaled slowly. "This is going to get messy."
The woman smiled faintly. "Yes. It is."
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**END OF CHAPTER 16**