Without hesitation, I threw open my covers and stepped out, a dagger in my hand.
To my surprise, I saw her again. She had long, teal hair gathered into a tight side ponytail over her left shoulder, her straight, clean bangs framing a composed, razor-focused expression—the look of someone built for precision and survival, rather than her usual loose hair.
I could see that she was weak. Though her stance was strong, her knees were buckling. Blood trickled down her thigh.
I pinned her against the wall and lifted her chin.
"Wait a second... what... what are you doing?" She stuttered, high on guard.
I studied her face.
"It's you?" I breathed.
"Wait, what do you mean——"
Before she could finish, the world turned upside down, and I crashed into her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~
My eyes fluttered open to see her again.
I was lying on her legs.
I touched my bare chest. All that remained were those dark veins spreading. My weapons were beside me.
"You healed me?" I asked.
"Tried to," she corrected. "Those veins couldn't be removed." She dragged a finger down my chest.
"Somehow, I feel that this you isn't the real you." She propped me against the stone wall.
"I want to know the real you," she continued.
"But what if I told you that this is the real me?" I questioned.
"It doesn't matter. My eyes have been fixated on you for quite a while."
"And what would I benefit from that?" I asked.
"I'll give you," she paused before giving me a sultry smile. "Me."
Her words lingered in the air.
I tried to test her. My hand found her back. But she didn't resist; instead, she tore off layers of fabric, throwing them aside.
She sat on me and leaned forward, her bare skin pressed against mine.
"I can feel...you," I said bluntly.
"I know. I want you to feel me. To know every crook and cranny of mine." She pressed her ear against my heart, listening to my every heartbeat.
"Even with a pretty girl sitting on you, your heartbeat is still the same," She said softly.
"..."
"Aren't you a little too desperate?" I said. I wonder, why am I doing this? It would be a good chance to add more pawns to my chess pieces. She would be of great use in the future. Especially after this.
She turned crimson and looked up at me with those seductive yet beautiful eyes I could not ignore.
She pressed her lips to mine, her tongue sliding in, tasting me.
Our tongues intertwined as we fought for a better taste of each other.
When we finally pulled away, Art whispered in my ear, her face turning red, "Sorry, am I doing fine? This is my first time."
"..." I didn't answer. She placed my hands around her slender waist, her body fair and smooth.
"Sorry, for taking advantage of you," Art breathed.
In the dim atmosphere of the dungeon, we devoured each other endlessly until sleep took us under its wings.
Sunlight shone in from the tiny cracks of the stone wall.
As if on cue, I sat up and reached for my clothes.
I wouldn't say that I did not have a pleasant night, but...
"Don't go," A small voice said behind me as she tugged at my hand. "Stay for a little longer..." I turned back and saw her huge, teal eyes staring back at me. Her hair had fallen loose, and her slender body hid away from view under the warm blanket.
I lay back down next to her. Her warm legs hugged mine, and she wrapped her hand around my body, as if hugging a giant teddy bear.
"You're cold..." She murmured in her sleep. Her hand slid down my upper body till it was dangerously low.
"No, Art. Not now," I gently placed her hand on my chest instead.
"No..." She muttered and rolled her body on top of me.
I was stuck.
At least the blanket was covering my body now.
Art was acting like a koala bear, stubbornly attached to me.
"Art...wake up..." I desperately tried to shake her awake.
"Five more minutes..." she retorted, half awake.
I dropped the bomb, "Art, you do realise you're not wearing anything, right?"
"Huh?" She rubbed her eyes. "HUHHH??!!!!" she gasped in sudden realisation and fell off my body.
~~~~~30 minutes later~~~~~
"Mm, let's go meet them, ehehe, ehehe," Art giggled sheepishly.
"Let's go." We stared at the enormous doors before us.
Creak.
The door swung open slowly, revealing two people standing in the centre of the room.
"Welcome—" Lazarus started, but the masked man standing behind him said nothing. His silence said it all. Lazarus stopped mid-sentence and glanced at him.
Keeping his silence, the masked man pointed a finger at Artemis.
"Eep!" Artemis immediately collapsed into my arms.
"...?" I raised my eyebrow, not bothering to raise my question.
"I didn't want her to listen to the truths we are about to tell you." The masked man said coolly.
"..."
"Still not going to speak?" The man sighed. So that cool stance of his was all an act. "You may call me Masked Lord, Alistair. And forgive me for the terrible things my subordinate did to you the last time you met him,"
"Look at Lazarus," Masked Lord removed the mummy wraps around him, revealing burns, scars, and skin badly stitched together. "This is the cost of being Project Successful," He passed the mummy wraps back to Lazarus, as if asking him to wrap himself back up. "But the benefits are that Lazarus has a protective barrier around him." He demonstrated by trying to stab a sword through him, but the sword bounced back as if hitting an invisible barrier. "And so, I was very impressed when you were able to make a permanent mark on his body." He smiled at me like a father proud of his son walking for the vert first time.
"..."
"Now then," he said quietly, and the warmth drained from his expression. "Let me tell you the truth."
The room felt smaller as he began to pace, his footsteps measured, almost surgical.
"Years ago, your parents were desperate. Married. Wealthy. Influential. And utterly barren." He paused, letting the word linger. "No matter how many physicians they consulted, no matter how many rituals they performed... nothing worked."
He stopped in front of me.
Wealthy?
Was there a side of them that I never knew?
"That was when Project Atlas extended its hand."
His lips curved faintly.
"They presented themselves as saviours. A cutting-edge fertility program. Harmless paperwork. A contract filled with promises. 'Participate in our research,' they said, 'and we will guarantee you a child.'"
He chuckled softly.
"Your parents signed without hesitation."
He resumed pacing.
"They surrendered samples — sperm and ovum. From there, the scientists began what they called optimisation."
His voice lowered.
"They didn't simply fertilise an egg. They dissected the very blueprint of life. Spliced genes. Removed weaknesses. Enhanced neural conductivity. Amplified mana receptors. They tested, failed, and discarded. Again. And again. And again."
A pause.
"Do you know how many embryos were created before you?"
Silence.
"How many were deemed unstable... and disposed of?"
His eyes darkened.
"They weren't trying to give your parents a child."
He leaned closer.
"They were trying to engineer a living cataclysm."
His words became quieter — and far more dangerous.
"A being capable of igniting continents. A mind vast enough to out-calculate supercomputers. A body that could withstand forces that would tear cities apart. Not a son. Not a daughter."
"A weapon."
The air felt heavy.
"And then," he added almost casually, "they encountered a problem."
"The bodies were perfect... but empty."
His gaze sharpened.
"Power without consciousness collapses in on itself. They needed something more. Something... ancient."
He folded his hands behind his back.
"So Project Atlas did the unthinkable. They formed a contract — not with governments, not with corporations."
"But with gods."
The word seemed to echo.
"They bargained for wandering souls. Reincarnated ones. Souls that retained memory. Adaptability. Experience beyond a single lifetime."
His smile returned — thin and wrong.
"And when a vessel finally proved stable enough..."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"They trapped one inside."
A long pause.
"You weren't born naturally."
His voice was almost gentle now.
"You were selected."
Another beat.
"Designed."
And softer still—
"Imprisoned."
"Just like all of us."
I froze.
"Right now, there are six 'Project Successful'. Three of them are here. Me, you, and Lazarus. The other two are working for Project Atlas. I'm sorry I had to use Lazarus to threaten you in the last recording. It was the only way to convince you to come to our side." Mask Lord apologised.
"How can I trust you?" I questioned him. "The first time I met Lazarus was at my house."
Mask Lord sighed, "Lazarus and I are 'working' for Project Atlas so that I can get my hands on crucial information, such as you. We resent Project Atlas for making us turn out like this. So we are not the ones who killed your parents, but the top two did. You're not the only one who's an orphan." He said slowly, "Project Atlas murders all those who do not submit their 'successful' children to them. After their parents are murdered, they will take the children under their wings, and they'll undergo intense training. This is why I want to rebel against them."
I nodded slowly, "Then how do you know who's successful and who's not? I need to know who's a threat."
"Your sister, for example, is an unsuccessful project, one of the very few that survived. She did not pass the requirements and thus was passed to her parents for care. Don't worry, unsuccessful projects are most likely not reincarnated people. Though her side effect was her sudden growth, do you remember?"
"Yes."
"She can only wield one element, whereas you can wield all seven, as well as their compounds, no?"
"..."
"And so, the cost of your immense power is that you are devoid of all emotion. Don't you find it harder and harder to smile?"
"..."
How did he know?
"But, we really need you on our team to rebel against Project Atlas. I don't want to watch children going through this Blackened Labyrinth for trials and all failing anymore."
"Why do you need me? You already have Lazarus." I stated flatly.
I did not want any more people interfering with my revenge now that I know that my parents were innocent.
"Lazarus and I each only wield four elements and their compounds out of the seven. And if you must know, you are the strongest of the six." He sighed. "Lazarus and I are the weakest of the six. So, please lend us a hand."
"..."
Ugh, this is so irritating, but I do need to know about the strongest two. They might be a threat to Ella and me.
"I'll join you," I said slowly. "But you must tell me more about the two successful ones that are stronger than you two."
"Of course!!" Masked Lord's eyes lit up through his mask.
"The third is Kael Callas. He has long, fiery red hair, often tied up. And the second is I can't remember, but he is known for his short white hair and icy blue eyes. They are both sons of either dukes or lords, each wielding six out of the seven elements. And if that was not impressive enough, they have both mastered all six elements and their compounds. However, no one has ever seen the first." He snorted. "But now that you have returned, the positions might change. Maybe, the tables will turn once more..." He scratched his chin, deep in thought.
Lazarus glanced at Masked Lord, as if giving him a signal. "Ah, yes, I almost forgot," Masked Lord reached for a letter sealed in gold from his pocket. "Since Lazarus and I are 'working' for Project Atlas, they wanted to give you this." He handed the letter to me.
"Read it carefully, and tell us your answer. We will convey the message to our boss."
"Who is your boss?" I asked curiously.
"We don't know," He shook his head. "No one has ever seen them. We've only ever known them as 'The High Council'. They supposedly know everything about this world and are always one step ahead. But I refuse to believe that."
I nodded slowly and opened the letter carefully.
The letter read:
Dear Alistair Nightfall,
We extend our most formal condolences for the loss of your parents. Regardless of circumstance, the passing of one's blood is no light matter. Grief, however, does not absolve obligation.
You must understand that your parents entered into a binding contract of their own volition. The terms were clear. The compensation was generous. The expectations were explicit. And yet, those expectations were not fulfilled. What was promised was withheld. What was owed remains outstanding.
Such matters cannot be ignored.
Now that our long-lost child has returned to the fold, it has become necessary to clarify positions, allegiances, and rightful standings. Uncertainty breeds instability, and instability invites conflict. We prefer resolution.
Therefore, you are hereby invited—though "summoned" may be the more accurate term—to attend our upcoming tournament. Your participation will serve to confirm your standing among us, to determine where you belong, and to settle any lingering ambiguities regarding inheritance, authority, and recognition.
Attendance is not optional.
We trust you understand that refusal would be interpreted as deliberate defiance. And defiance, in matters such as these, seldom affects only the individual in question. It would be... unfortunate... if consequences were to extend beyond you.
We have been informed that your younger sister, Isabella, remains under your protection. She is said to be bright. Fragile. Untested. The world beyond your estate is not kind to the unprepared.
We would greatly prefer that she never be required to witness its harsher lessons.
Present yourself at the tournament on the appointed date. Prove your standing. Clarify your loyalty. Settle your parents' unfinished affairs with dignity.
Do so, and this matter may conclude with civility.
Fail, and we will proceed as necessity demands.
With unwavering expectation,
The High Council
"This sounds more like a threat than an invitation," I mumbled.
"Your answer?" Masked Lord asked patiently.
"I will think about it," I said before folding the letter back into its envelope.
"Mm, think, not that you had much of a choice anyway," Lazarus chuckled as he scribbled down something on one of his bandages. "We will find you when you have your answer."
"Then, we will take our leave now," Masked Lord smiled sadly at me as he pointed a finger at Art.
"Hm?" Art rubbed her eyes. I immediately crouched down and felt her forehead. "You're fine..." I muttered.
"What happened?" She sat up abruptly and said in a daze, "Where are those two men?"
I glanced at where Lazarus and Masked Lord were standing and said, "You must be hallucinating."
"But I just saw them!! They—they were just there!!!!" Art protested.
"I think you need to see a doctor," I said flatly.
Art gave me an offended look and wrapped her hands around my neck. "Ace," she said softly. "If you can look me in the eye and tell me that there was no one here, I'll believe you."
"..."
"I can't take off my blindfold, even if it's for you." I tried to get off the topic.
"It doesn't matter. Just say it." She pressed her chest against mine.
"I can't think if you're going to be so close to me,"
"Oops!! Sorry!" She immediately turned away, her ears turning pink.
I looked at her teal eyes and said, "There was no one here; you must've been imagining it." My expressiois n unchanging.
"Really?"
"Yes."
The two grand doors slowly swung open on that note.
Golden rays of light seeped through the door, illuminating the room.
I stood up. "Let's go, shall we?" I held out my hand for her.
"Yep," She smiled, taking my hand.