Chapter 9: The Blood of a Tyrant
The spy dragged Go deeper into the shadows of the alley, his eyes darting around frantically. He looked like a man standing on a landmine.
"Please, Young Master!" the spy hissed, his voice trembling. "Do you realize what you are saying? Your father... he is King Ziro. He sits on the Frozen Throne. Why have you abandoned the palace to rot in these streets?"
Go shook the man's hand off his mouth, his eyes burning with a cold, sharp fury. "Why? Because I am serving the sentence for my father's sins. You know as well as I do how he got that throne. He is a butcher, not a King."
The spy stepped back, but Go stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I know how he slaughtered his own brothers and sisters. I know he turned his own parents into Ferals just so he could hunt them down and look like a hero to the public. He wants to crush the other two empires, and for what? More gold? More power?"
"Shut up! Someone will hear you!" the spy begged, his face pale. "This secret is known only to a handful of us. If the public finds out the King is a fraud..."
"A fraud and a monster," Go spat. "And here I am, being a friend to the very people he destroyed. Ren... the boy you saw me with... his sister is turning into a Feral because of the system my father created. While my father enjoys his wine in a castle, his own bloodline is rotting in the Tier 4 dirt. And my mother? He keeps her in a 'Golden Jail,' a queen in name only. No, I am not going back. Tell him his son died the day he stole that crown."
Go turned his back on the spy and vanished into the crowd, leaving the man trembling in the dark.
The Apartment: Tier 2 Sector
Ren stepped off the horse carriage, his hands shaking as he clutched the heavy bag of potions and the remaining silver coins. The city lights felt too bright, the air too thin. All he could think about was Hana.
He hurried up the stairs of the apartment building, the wooden steps creaking under his weight. He reached the door and fumbled with the key.
"Hana, I'm back," he whispered, his heart hammered against his ribs. "I've got the medicine. You're going to be okay."
He pushed the door open.
The room was silent—too silent. The window he had locked was now wide open, the thin curtains fluttering in the cold night wind. The smell in the room had changed. It wasn't just the smell of damp wood anymore; it was the metallic tang of fresh blood and the sickly-sweet scent of Vane decay.
Ren's eyes widened as he looked at the bed.
The blanket was shredded, tossed onto the floor like a rag. Hana wasn't there.
He slowly turned his head toward the dark corner of the room, and his heart stopped.
"N-no..." Ren choked out, the bag of potions slipping from his numb fingers.
The shock hit him like a physical blow. He fell back against the doorframe, his breath hitching, his eyes filled with a terror so deep it felt like his soul was being torn apart.