Inside the hall, the unease had already taken hold, pressing down until even breathing felt louder than it should.
All eyes were fixed on the sealed passage.
When the door finally slid open, it revealed Luthar stepping out from within.
There was no urgency in his movement. No reaction to the chaos around him, as if none of it concerned him in the slightest.
Behind him, two mechanical appendages extended outward, their motion smooth and controlled.
In his hand, he carried something compact and contained, its purpose known only to him.
Apollo's gaze fixed on him, his expression tightening slightly—not fear, not yet. Just irritation, controlled and restrained.
"Oh? Shouldn't you still be inside the dungeon?" he said, his voice steady. "Well, it doesn't matter. It won't make any difference."
Luthar didn't respond. He simply continued walking.
Behind him, movement followed.
Four Black Widows stepped into view. Alongside them, two familiar figures emerged—members of Apollo's own group.
Apollo's expression shifted as the truth finally clicked. He understood exactly how Freya and the others had realized he was the one who stole the weapons.
"So that's how it is."
One of the nearby members turned sharply toward them.
"You—what are you—"
He didn't get the chance to finish.
One of the mechanical appendages behind Luthar extended, splitting at the tip as it drove forward, piercing through the man's face before he could react. There was no struggle, no resistance—just a brief, violent interruption as it tore through his skull. When it withdrew, the body dropped to the ground.
Watching this, Clio moved immediately.
He stepped forward, weapon already in motion as he closed the distance, forcing the engagement before the situation could collapse further.
As Clio moved toward Luthar, his back exposed, Lili took the opportunity. Her hand moved, drawing the compact blade as she closed the distance in a single motion, striking toward his neck without hesitation.
Clio reacted on instinct, turning back and raising the hammer to block—but when the blade met it, it didn't clash. It cut through like butter.
Clio's expression shifted as he pulled back, the broken weight in his hand suddenly meaningless.
For the first time, hesitation appeared on his face.
Lili straightened, a sharp, satisfied smile forming.
"Now it's payback."
As she attacked again, the only thing he could do was try to dodge.
At the same time, more figures entered the fight.
From the surrounding rooms, Black Widows emerged and joined Natasha, their movements precise as gunfire erupted from multiple angles, destroying any attempt at resistance.
And from the entrance—
More movement.
Tsubaki led another group inside, their advance direct, sealing what little space remained.
The situation collapsed.
Some of Apollo's members raised their guns in desperation, aiming toward Luthar.
Instead of firing, the triggers snapped the moment they were pulled.
Confusion broke into fear.
Apollo saw it.
For a brief moment, his thoughts stalled, unable to process what he was looking at.
Then something else reached him.
A shift.
Subtle, but unmistakable—the kind that only those tied to divinity could feel.
His expression tightened.
"No."
The word came out under his breath, more instinct than thought.
His mind rejected it immediately, forcing the conclusion into something else.
"Freya…" he muttered, grasping at the only explanation that made sense to him. "It has to be her. It can't be Ishtar."
Anything else, he refused to accept.
But the unease didn't fade.
It stayed at the edge of his awareness, pressing in no matter how he tried to ignore it.
And in front of him, Luthar placed a small device on the ground.
Apollo's confusion twisted into anger.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
Luthar didn't look at him.
"preparing a prison for you."
The moment he spoke, the device reacted instantly.
Its form distorted for a fraction of a second, then expanded, its size increasing as it settled into a contained structure large enough to hold a person.
Before Apollo could respond, something flew toward him.
"Hey, Apollo—catch."
The voice came from the side.
Apollo reacted on instinct, his hand moving without thought as he caught it.
For a brief second, he didn't understand what he was holding.
Then it registered.
He was holding Clio's head—lifeless, the expression frozen in place.
Apollo's grip tightened, something in him snapping as the reality settled in.
"No"
The word tore out of him as his expression twisted, resolve hardening in place of hesitation.
If he was going to lose here, then he would take Luthar down before going back to heaven.
His Arcanum surged.
For a brief moment, divine power began to gather, the air around him tightening under its presence as he forced it forward in a final, desperate strike aimed at Luthar.
Just as his Arcanum began to form, the connection faltered and then vanished—not suppressed or resisted, but completely severed.
Apollo's expression froze.
"That's not possible."
He tried again.
This time, there wasn't even a response.
Before he could process what had happened, something struck his throat—a small device that instantly cut off any attempt to speak.
Luthar stepped closer, his gaze indifferent.
"You should thank Freya," he said calmly. "She made this possible."
There was no pause.
"And congratulations," he added, his tone unchanged, "you've just become my most valuable blood source."
Luthar stepped in and caught him in one motion, one hand gripping his collar while the other locked onto his shoulder, turning him and forcing him forward. There was no time to struggle as he was driven straight into the chamber, and the moment his body crossed the threshold, the structure closed around him.
Luthar's hand lowered slightly, a subtle command passing through the device as it activated.
Inside, apollo's movement stopped instantly, his body held mid-motion without any visible restraint, as if the very moment had been fixed in place without explanation.
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