The night stretched on in a suffocating blur of lingering unease and anxiety.
Greg eventually managed to fall asleep, though his rest was deeply agitated. He tossed and turned constantly, the rattling of his chains making it painfully clear to Gil that his sleep was far from peaceful or filled with sweet dreams.
Still, at least he was getting some rest.
Kuro, on the other hand, kept her eyes fixed silently on the empty air. Gil had no way of knowing what was running through her head, and his gut told him now wasn't the right time to pry.
After all, despite everything they had just been through, a full day hadn't even passed yet.
Through the lens of his sight, Gil watched Kuro's emotional aura flicker, deep red flames flaring up and subsiding around her like a contained eruption.
It was better to leave her alone to process whatever she was going through at her own pace; besides, he had plenty of his own baggage to deal with.
While Orphée and Hugo drifted off to sleep beside them with baffling composure, Gil did everything in his power to shake off the persistent dread gnawing at the back of his mind.
Throughout the night, he cycled back and forth into his inner sanctuary. There, he trained relentlessly to master his new abilities, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion before returning to reality whenever his reserves ran dry.
Although exhausting, all of it hadn't been without gain. Throughout the night, he managed to uncover several crucial details regarding his newly awakened abilities.
First, he noticed a stark contrast between using his power inside his inner sanctuary versus the outside world.
Whether it was the ethereal chains or the shards, they were vastly more powerful and intense when invoked within the realm of his sanctuary. When he attempted to manifest them in reality, however, there was a sharp and undeniable drop in both impact and overall potency.
It was as if the energy fueling these abilities had to pass through a thick, suffocating barrier just to materialize externally—dampening their effectiveness significantly.
Moreover, apart from the chains—which were tangible and allowed him to form emotional links with others—his other powers seemed completely incapable of leaving a physical mark on the real world.
Inside his sanctuary, the mechanics were straightforward: a fully charged shard could deal visible destruction, warping the terrain and leaving clear damage behind.
But outside?
Whenever he launched one at the floor or hurled it against the stone walls, nothing happened. Not a single scratch, dent, or mark. It was as though he were throwing nothing more than a sudden gust of wind against solid rock.
This troubling discovery left him thoroughly frustrated and deeply confused for a good portion of the night but he couldn't figure out why.
And so, the night came to an end.
Slowly, the remaining captives began to wake up, one after another.
Gil stood up and, for once, decided to leave the sleeping Greg alone. His companion had only just managed to find a sliver of peace; he might as well let him enjoy every second of rest before whatever horror came next, as no one knew when they would get another moment of respite.
Chewing dryly on the remnants of yesterday's rations, Gil gave a silent nod to Kuro, Orphée, and Hugo, waiting together for whatever was bound to happen.
After a while, Greg woke up by himself and silently joined them in their meal, still looking weary.
If there was at least one thing Gil was grateful for, it was that with the arrival of Orphée and Hugo, the atmosphere within their small group had taken a sharp turn for the better.
It was mostly Orphée's presence that made all the difference. He radiated a lightheartedness and ease that was almost contagious.
Through his casual way of talking and striking up conversations, he managed to soften the heavy tension in the air. Gil couldn't quite put his finger on how he did it, but Orphée clearly had a natural gift for blending in, breaking the ice, and simply being the kind of person you felt comfortable around.
He even managed the miracle of wringing a few words out of Kuro, briefly cracking her icy facade.
Furthermore, when Greg finally woke up with a start, Orphée was the first to greet him warmly, asking if he had slept well. With a few carefully chosen words and a couple of well-timed jokes, he succeeded in distracting the young man from his worries and the dark nightmares that had haunted his sleep.
Observing the scene, Gil felt genuinely thankful. He flashed a subtle, discreet nod to Orphée in gratitude.
Not modest in the slightest, the young man immediately responded with a wink and a thumbs-up, wearing a cocky grin that clearly conveyed: Told you so—you'd be glad to have us.
Gil couldn't help but smile in spite of himself before looking away.
All in all, there was at least some good in finally having more people around. Though, of course, he would strictly deny ever admitting that out loud.
After a long, agonizing wait where everyone held their breath, the lift doors finally ground open with a metallic screech.
The organization's healer stepped back into the room.
The second the man set foot inside, Gil instantly felt a sharp shift in his attitude. And this time, you didn't need to be an empath to notice it—the change was stark and visible to everyone.
If yesterday this healer had shown a touch of warmth and compassion that felt almost out of place in this cursed hellhole, the man standing before them today was entirely different.
While not openly malicious like the other masked enforcers, he radiated a cold severity and an ominous gravity that boded nothing good for what lay ahead.
If before he had been as gentle and warming as the sun, bringing life and vitality, now he was like an unforgiving, scorching light thrusting upon them—blinding them with its glare without a single care for the damage it caused. It was a staggering contrast.
Sensing that his sudden shift in demeanor was a bit too obvious, he seemed to soften his stance slightly.
After a few heavy beats of silence, he asked in a gentler tone, "Have you all eaten? Did you manage to rest? Is anyone still feeling unwell?"
Surprised by this sudden return to familiarity, a few captives nodded tentatively, indicating they were more or less ready.
"Good. Stay focused," he murmured, whether to himself or the others, no one besides him could tell.
Nodding to himself, the healer gestured for them to follow. Bracing themselves for the absolute worst, the remaining group trailed behind him in dead silence.
Once inside the lift, the young man said nothing more, simply leaning back against one of the walls.
The captives crowded onto the opposite side. Gil kept his eyes glued to the healer, wondering what on earth could have happened in the span of a single night to trigger such a radical change in a person.
Well... I guess I'm about to find out.
The ride in the lift felt considerably longer than usual. He tried to gauge their direction or guess how deep underground they were descending, but the cab moved so smoothly that tracking their depth was nearly impossible, even for him.
When the heavy doors finally slid open, they revealed a completely new floor. They weren't back in the arena, nor were they in the corridor leading toward the infirmary.
Instead, they stepped into a vast, sprawling hall—far larger than the quarters they had spent the night in.
Thick mats and carpets covered the floor, surrounded by sandbags, heavy weights, training pads, and a baffling array of strange physical contraptions and gear whose names Gil couldn't even begin to guess.
Reaching the center of the room, the healer turned around to face them. His eyes scanned each of them, one by one. For a fleeting second, the compassionate young man they had met yesterday peeked through his hardened exterior.
"I am sorry," he began, his voice soft yet echoing firmly across the hall. "I cannot change your situation. I cannot let you go, nor can I promise you that things will get any better from here on out. For that... I am truly sorry."
The sheer helplessness and distress bleeding through his words was palpable, undeniable. But he quickly composed himself, his expression hardening once more.
"However... what I can do is help you survive this place. So I am going to push you. I will push you regardless of how painful it gets, and regardless of how much you come to hate me for it. It is for your own good. Even if it only moves the needle a fraction... it will increase your chances of staying alive."
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the captives following his declaration. Even the slowest among them understood instantly what was coming next.
Without missing a beat, Gil began stretching his remaining arm, his face a mask of cold composure. Kuro followed suit, her sharp eyes already analyzing the healer's stance and posture.
Next to them, despite not understanding the spoken words, Hugo instinctively picked up on the shift and readied himself. Even Greg and Orphée looked dead serious for once.
Seeing the hardened resolve in the eyes of the captives, the healer gave a single, firm nod.
Apparently satisfied to see that none of them were flinching or trying to back out, a heavy weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.
His tone became noticeably lighter as he spoke: "Good. That's good. Who's first?"
A moment of silence fell as the captives exchanged glances, silently debating who would volunteer to step up first.
Gil, sticking to his mindset of getting unpleasant things over with as quickly as possible, took a step forward.
But he was instantly pulled back by three separate hands—belonging to Greg, Kuro, and Orphée. Even more surprisingly, the giant Hugo, despite not understanding a single word, took a step past Gil and positioned his massive frame directly between him and the healer.
Surprised, Gil raised an eyebrow, silently asking: What the hell are you guys doing?
Orphée spoke up, having somehow appointed himself the de facto spokesman of their small group overnight.
"We should be asking you that, boss," Orphée said, trying to keep his tone light and playful, though his eyes drifted seriously toward Gil's empty sleeve. "What do you plan on doing in that state?"
Looking at the grave expressions on Greg and Kuro's faces, Gil realized they were all thinking the exact same thing. He felt a sudden, quiet warmth bloom in his chest, touched by their concern.
"That's precisely why I need to go," he still argued back, his voice firm. "You think the bastards running this place are gonna give me a free pass just because I'm down an arm?"
His logic hit home, leaving them speechless for a second.
While they were busy debating, however, Hugo had already kept moving.
The giant now stood directly in front of the healer. Raising his massive arms in a guard stance, he didn't need to speak a word—his intention was glaringly clear.