The doors slammed shut behind him with a dull thud.
The contrast hit immediately.
After the stifling heat, the dust, the screams… the silence here was almost unreal. The air was cool, still. No chains rattling, no blows, no screams. Just… calm.
Oppressive calm.
Ryuji was forced to take a few steps before the guards stopped. His chains jingled faintly, his steady footsteps the only sound in the room.
The office was vast. Too vast.
Shelves lined with books, maps spread across a large table, and behind it, sitting with perfect ease… Marcellus.
He didn't lift his eyes immediately.
As if Ryuji wasn't a priority.
As if he was… nothing.
Ryuji took in the man's presence. Marcellus's hair was a striking shade of gold, falling neatly past his shoulders. His uniform, deep blue with silver accents, was immaculate, every crease perfect, and at his belt hung a sword that gleamed faintly in the light—a silent promise of danger. Every inch of him radiated control, power, and a casual elegance that seemed almost theatrical.
Then, slowly, Marcellus turned a page, set down his quill, and finally raised his gaze.
A calm gaze.
Cold.
Calculating.
"So… another stubborn slave?" he said, almost imperceptibly smiling, like a cat judging a mouse.
The guards bowed slightly.
"No, master. This one… is the survivor of the Basilisk."
Silence.
Not empty silence.
A silence that weighed.
Marcellus's expression barely shifted. Just… a spark of interest. Almost invisible.
"I see. The survivor…" His voice softened just slightly, but every syllable was deliberate. "…So you've seen what no one else has survived to witness."
He straightened slightly, hands clasped in front of him, his golden hair catching the faint light. His eyes, sharp and measured, studied Ryuji with unsettling intensity.
The bandages.
The bruises.
The posture.
The gaze.
Especially the gaze.
"Step forward."
The guards pushed Ryuji ahead. He took a few steps, stopping a few meters from the desk.
He didn't lower his eyes.
Mistake… or choice.
Marcellus tilted his head, intrigued.
"Interesting. Few dare to hold their future master's gaze so directly."
A brief silence.
"Most tremble at this distance, even knowing the pain to come. You… you breathe as if unafraid."
Ryuji didn't respond.
His breathing was steady.
But his heart… pounded.
Hard.
Very hard.
"You strike my men on your first day," Marcellus continued, his tone almost bored.
"Two possibilities. Either you are completely insane, incapable of understanding consequences…" A slow smile spread across his lips. "…or you might be interesting."
A pause.
Ryuji clenched his fists slightly.
"I do not like those who harm the weak," his voice low, controlled, sharp.
Marcellus held his gaze for a moment.
Then he let out a slight breath.
Not a laugh.
Not quite.
"The weak… exist to be crushed. A simple law. A natural law. A law even calamities obey. And yet… you."
He took a few steps, slowly circling the desk, every movement precise, measured, almost ceremonial. The sword at his belt swung lightly with each step, a subtle reminder of the lethal skill he possessed.
"You are still alive."
Marcellus's gaze sharpened, as if probing every invisible fracture of Ryuji's soul.
"Tell me… what did you see?"
Silence.
"In their eyes."
Ryuji froze. A vision. The scales. The gaze. And that voice. Indifferent. His jaw tightened.
"…Nothing."
A lie.
Marcellus stared. Long. Then slowly, a smile stretched across his lips.
"Wrong answer."
Without warning, he raised his hand—
A fist shot out, precise, violent, into Ryuji's stomach.
The impact doubled him over, breath stolen, knees hitting the cold, hard floor.
"I do not like lies," Marcellus said calmly, as if commenting on the weather outside.
Ryuji lifted his head slightly. Teeth clenched, eyes blazing.
"…Then why would I lie to you?"
Silence.
Marcellus paused.
Then… he laughed. This time, genuinely. Not loudly. But clearly.
"Good. Very good." He returned to his seat with elegance, sitting behind his desk. His golden hair framed his face perfectly, his blue uniform immaculate, and the sword at his side catching the light in quiet menace.
"You are not broken. Not yet."
He fixed his gaze on him.
"Do you know what calamities are?"
Ryuji said nothing.
"Forces humanity cannot control. Forces that watch, devour, and claim their due. So we feed them."
Silence.
"Lives for time."
His fingers tapped lightly on the table.
"And sometimes… something survives."
Ryuji felt his heart slow. His thoughts stabilize.
"You are not the first," Marcellus said. The words fell like cold stones.
But he continued as if nothing had happened.
"But the others… did not last long."
A pause.
"Let's see how long you endure."
Ryuji remained still.
Kneeling.
But his gaze…
Did not waver.
---
Marcellus made a slight hand gesture.
"Take him away."
The guards stepped forward, grabbing the chains.
"Put him back to work."
A moment.
Then:
"But watch him."
A faint smile.
"Closely."
---
As he was forcibly lifted, Ryuji met Marcellus's gaze one last time.
No fear.
No doubt.
Only a frozen certainty.
He was not seen as a man.
But as something to test.
To observe.
To break.
Or…
To use.
---
As they dragged him out of the room, one clear thought crossed his mind.
I will kill you.
Not now.
Not today.
But one day.
Behind him, in the office's silence, Marcellus picked up his quill again.
As if nothing had happened.
And yet…
A faint smile lingered on his lips.