"Alaric… Alaric…"
The voice reached him as if from the bottom of a collapsing world distant, fractured, yet filled with urgency. Footsteps echoed, rapid and uneven, cutting through the suffocating silence.
Alaric tried to rise.
His body refused.
Pain anchored him to the ground, his consciousness flickering like a dying flame. His vision blurred, shadows swallowing the edges of reality.
Then movement , A figure dropped beside him.
"Damn it…" Alexander's voice, strained but controlled. "Selina, I found him. He's unconscious."
A brief pause. The sound of breath tight, restrained.
"I'm taking him to the doctor. You keep searching for Valerian. I can't sense his aura… not even a trace. Contact Orion."
Without waiting for a response, Alexander lifted Alaric onto his shoulders. The weight didn't matter. Not now.
What mattered… was what this silence meant.
Fragments of memory clawed their way through Alaric's fading awareness.
A voice.
His own.
Cold. Certain.
"Do you remember? We don't protect the world…"
"We decide what… or who… remains in it."
The words echoed like a doctrine carved into bone.
"We are not heroes, you fool."
"When the lock opens… balance will collapse."
A flicker of pain crossed his mind no, not pain ,Conflict.
"We must not move according to our emotions…"
"We must control them."
Then another voice quieter, but heavier.
The Leader.
"Leave this matter… to the Hashashin."
And then, something else older, almost forgotten.
A memory from the very first meeting.
"Emotions are not weakness…"*
"…they are power."
Darkness swallowed him completely.
At that same moment, far from the chaos..Orion's signal spread like an unseen ripple across the organization.
A single message.
A single truth.
**Valerian… was dead.**
Elsewhere , A vast chamber stood in silence.
The walls were high, almost unnaturally so, carved with patterns too ancient to understand. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the floor, as if the light itself feared to settle.
At the center.
A man sat.
Still.
Watching the wall before him as though it contained something beyond sight.
Only fragments of him were visible:
Dark hair, falling just beneath his ears.
Broad shoulders perfectly proportioned, neither excessive nor lacking.
A presence…
No something heavier than presence , An **aura so overwhelming** that even suppressed, it distorted the air around him.
Behind him stood another figure.
Tall.
Motionless.
Wrapped in a long black garment, face concealed, identity erased , Silence lingered.
Then , The seated man spoke.
His voice was calm… yet carried the weight of something absolute.
"You have seen if you truly see."
"You have heard if you truly listen."
The words did not echo They settled Like judgment.
"There are two kinds of men…"
A pause.
"A man who sells himself… and destroys it."
"And a man who purchases himself… and sets it free."
The air grew heavier Even silence seemed to listen.
"Obey the one whose ignorance cannot be excused."
Another pause.
Longer this time , Final.
Then:
"Summon the leader of the Hashashin."
The masked figure did not move.
Not yet.
"No one else will interfere in this matter."
A slight shift of the man's gaze barely noticeable, yet enough to alter the atmosphere of the entire room.
"Even Alaric…"
A faint breath.
"…when he awakens… I leave him to you."
That was not an order It was a sentence.
"Deliver your instructions to him."
"He will obey."
Silence.
Then, at last The figure in black bowed his head slightly , One word.
"Understood."
He turned , And vanished into the shadows.
Who was the man who spoke in riddles as if shaping fate itself?
Who was the silent figure cloaked in black?
And who… were the Hashashin?
We will see.