"Well, hello there, little cultist.~"
Ashen had just finished recovering from the last bits of damage when a teasing voice pulled him out of Daydream.
He slowly opened his eyes.
Cornelia sat on the same chair she'd used last time, in the same position: one leg crossed over the other, arms folded beneath her breasts.
Her expression was outwardly teasing, but something darker lurked beneath. Wrath, barely shackled, flickering behind her eyes like embers waiting for fuel.
Ashen realized he was also sitting in the same position as before.
For a disorienting moment, he wondered if he was reliving that interrogation. Some kind of temporal loop or mental trick.
But one word shattered that illusion.
'...Cultist?'
"Sleepyhead." Cornelia tilted her head, red hair cascading over one shoulder. "What's with the confused look? Rise and shine. Can't you see your commander has honored you by descending to your cell once again?"
The smirk on her face could be seen from miles away.
Ashen straightened his posture anyway, then gestured vaguely at her. "I see you've made yourself comfortable in that seat, Commander."
He paused, scratching his cheek.
"But what's this about being a cultist? Where's my 'heartstealer' nickname? I was starting to get attached to that one."
Cornelia's smirk widened. "Oh, if it were up to me, I'd make it your legal middle name. You've swept that little girl off her feet so completely she's become obsessed with you."
She leaned back, the chair creaking slightly.
"Even my right-hand woman spoke up on your behalf not long ago. That iceblock of all people, defending a man." Cornelia let out a delighted laugh. "Can you believe it? If your situation weren't so complicated, I'd be planning her wedding right now. Hehe~"
'Sabrina...?'
The image of a woman in a maid uniform flashed through Ashen's mind, only to be immediately replaced by the iron-blooded instructor who'd trained him during his first stay at the Ashbastion.
He'd barely processed that when Cornelia continued.
"In the time I gave you to reconsider your position, I decided to conduct some... interviews." She tapped her fingers against her arm in a slow rhythm. "Starting with your recruiter."
Ashen gave her a confused look.
'What does Lucia have to do with—'
"Lucia Evernight," Cornelia clarified, apparently misinterpreting his confusion as forgetfulness. "The one with the fake face. You remember her?"
"...Of course."
"Well." Cornelia's expression shifted to something between exasperation and fascination. "That was a tough nut to crack. She also refused to divulge anything about you."
She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them the other way.
"I know her kind well. People like her always put themselves above everyone else. Self-interest as religion. Survival as doctrine." Her eyes gleamed. "So imagine my surprise when she showed loyalty."
The word dripped with genuine curiosity.
Ashen's concern for his partner's safety overrode his caution. "Don't bother with her. I didn't tell her anything about my innate skill—"
Even as he spoke, almost all of his concentration shifted to Cornelia's hands.
He knew what was coming and had prepared for it.
Click—
But even with his full focus, he only caught a fleeting blur of motion. The bracelet fastened around his wrist before he could process the movement.
This time, the cube in Cornelia's palm glowed green.
"Hmm." She examined it with satisfaction. "Seems you're right. But you understand why I call you heartstealer, don't you?"
She pocketed the cube.
"Even a fake woman with not a single genuine thing about her… You made her show a real expression." Cornelia clicked her tongue twice. "Tsk tsk. That worry in her eyes when I mentioned your name? It was as genuine as could be. No mistake about it."
Ashen inwardly grimaced.
Being viewed as a playboy by Cornelia didn't stir anything in him. Making his people worry, though, sat wrong with him.
'...Soon.'
"But your conquests don't stop there," Cornelia continued, her voice breaking through his thoughts. "Interestingly enough."
'What now?'
Ashen was almost dreading who would come next out of her mouth.
"I still can't believe you managed to ensnare even the Saintess candidate in your web. How bold!" The moment she finished speaking, Cornelia burst into delighted giggles that made her sound like a fangirl watching her idol perform miracles.
She even clapped her hands together once.
"Ah, well. Thanks to that, the Lust Domain pulled out of your case entirely. They've even started supporting our domain, which has alleviated much-needed pressure from my sore shoulders."
She rotated her shoulder as if dusting off lingering tension.
'Saintess who?'
Ashen had imaginary question marks floating above his head, but he was only glad it wasn't someone he knew. At least that meant one less person being targeted for questioning because of him.
One question remained unanswered, though.
"Commander." He spread his hands. "All of this is good and enlightening, but... how exactly does any of it relate to me becoming a cultist?"
"Oh?" Cornelia blinked, tilting her head. "You don't know?"
"I'm reasonably certain I haven't moved from this cell since you left me here." Ashen tilted his head to match her angle. "And the available means to join a cult in this particular location are rather... limited, wouldn't you say?"
Unfortunately for Ashen, he still hadn't learned his lesson about not being cheeky with his commander.
She shot him a look that somehow managed to be both helpless and fond before sighing and bringing her thumb and index finger to massage her temple.
"Seems another lesson is in order."
She started slowly, as if explaining something to a particularly dense student.
"Ashen, my dear lamb. When I said not to bring Esperra's common sense here, I only meant whatever rules were designed to protect the weak from the strong."
Her hand dropped back to her lap.
"Manipulation. Lies. Framing. Deception. Truth distortion." She counted them off on her fingers. "Everything is fair game here."
A mocking smile curved her lips.
"What? Did you think human nature would change just because we're under constant threat of extinction? Oh please. Stop being such a dreamer."
"..."
She schooled her expression back to something more neutral.
"The other domains insist on knowing your displacement method. That's standard procedure when innate abilities are involved… everyone wants to know, everyone wants to replicate or counter." She gestured vaguely. "But Lust's unexpected intervention tilted the scales in your favor."
A pause.
"So they've resorted to... alternative methods to reinforce pressure on me. To force me to hand you over so they can apply more rigorous interrogation techniques."
Cornelia sighed, and for a moment, she looked genuinely tired.
"Ashen, you have to understand something." Her voice dropped. "Sometimes, they won't kill you because you're a cultist. They'll call you a cultist so that they can kill you."
She tilted her head, and the teasing look returned.
"In your case, they'll do much worse than kill you.~"
Ashen's face grew gloomy by the end of her speech.
Inwardly, though… He hardly cared.
Why?
Because he already had a way out of this prison.
All he had to do was wait.
Cassius Asta would make his move eventually; that was inevitable. The man had spent two hundred years planning, and Ashen had seen the madness burning in those red eyes. Whatever nightmare the Astrologer was preparing to unleash, it would require a response.
A massive response.
And what was this place called again?
'The Last Reserve.'
Ashen almost wanted to laugh at the irony.
They'd imprisoned him in the very facility designed to deploy criminals as emergency forces. When Cassius's plans came to fruition and when the Veiled Moon struck, the council would have no choice but to mobilize every available body.
Including him.
'Isn't this convenient? I'll just wait until this reserve is needed to fight whatever horrors he's cooking up.'
As for informing Cornelia about what he knew…
Not a chance.
First, that information was his ticket out. His leverage. The moment he revealed it, he may lose the one card that guaranteed his eventual freedom.
Second, and perhaps more importantly, after everything Cornelia had told him about Seravelle's lack of laws, he knew exactly what would happen if he opened his mouth.
He'd be devoured with no bones left.
They'd extract every piece of information, use him as a living compass to point at threats, and once he'd outlived his usefulness, he'd probably be discarded. Or worse, kept as a permanent tool.
'Thank you, Cornelia,' Ashen thought with amusement. 'Your mistake was assuring me that Alice and Lucia aren't in danger. Now I don't have any pressing reason to leave early. I can just... wait it out.'
Patience was a virtue, after all.
And he'd developed quite a lot of patience over the past months.
"—listening to me?"
Ashen blinked, realizing Cornelia had been speaking.
"Apologies, Commander. I was contemplating my options."
"How diligent." Her tone suggested she didn't believe him for a second
She held up one finger.
"The other domains are pushing to have you labeled as a Veiled Moon cultist. The evidence they're fabricating is... convincing enough for political purposes."
Another finger.
"The clock is ticking. My ability to shield you decreases with each passing day."
A third finger.
"The stakes have risen considerably. If I hand you over, you won't be processed as a mere kidnapper anymore. You'll be treated as an enemy of humanity. And the interrogation methods for cultists are..." She paused, searching for the word. "...comprehensive."
All three fingers remained raised.
"So I'm giving you one more chance to think it over."
She lowered her hand.
"Tell me about your innate ability, and I can protect you. I have enough leverage to keep you in Wrath Domain, put you to use in ways that don't involve torture chambers. You'll be valuable instead of dangerous."
Her red eyes bored into him.
"Or stay silent, and I'll have no choice but to turn you over eventually."
Silence filled the cell.
Ashen studied her face, reading the micro-expressions that flickered across it.
And that's when he noticed something.
Between her words, in the spaces where she paused or shifted position, tiny sparks of anger leaked through her carefully maintained composure. Her jaw would tighten fractionally. Her fingers would curl into her palm. The air around her would shimmer with barely suppressed heat.
It was subtle… almost invisible.
But Ashen had a trait designed to catch the little cues just like these… Obseravant.
…coupled with the time spent around her, he started to recognize the pattern.
'She's angry.'
Not at him, specifically.
…Probably.
Maybe it was at the situation she was put in in general… at the other domains… at being forced into this position where she had to negotiate and bargain and make empty threats instead of simply acting.
An absurd thought occurred to him then.
'Does she even want me to confess?'
The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Cornelia didn't strike him as some patient diplomat. To him, she was a woman who'd probably prefer to burn her problems to ash rather than talk them into submission.
He'd felt that behemoth of rage during their first interrogation. The sheer fury she could bring to bear.
And now she was stuck playing politics, making deals, negotiating with other domains who were trying to pressure her into surrendering an asset.
'She hates this.' He concluded.
More than that, Ashen had the distinct impression that some part of Cornelia hoped he'd hold his ground.
That he'd refuse to cooperate, giving her an excuse—any excuse—to stop playing nice and unleash that carefully controlled wrath on whoever was stupid enough to try taking him by force.
The image of her negotiating with anyone suddenly struck Ashen as laughable.
This woman wasn't built for diplomacy; she was built for war.
"I'll think about it, Commander," Ashen said finally, keeping his voice neutral.
"See that you do." Cornelia stood, brushing imaginary dust from her uniform as she turned toward the cell entrance.
The steel wall began retracting with its familiar grinding sound.
Grrr—ka.
But before stepping through, she glanced back over her shoulder.
"One more thing, little heartstealer."
"Yes?"
"I like men with some backbone." She let the sentence dangle.
Then she was gone, heels clicking down the corridor in that same rhythm.
Click—clack.
Click—clack.
The sound faded into distance.
Ashen sat there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway.
Then he let out a slow breath and spoke into the silence of his cell.
"What a crazy bitch."
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