Arthur's eyes snapped open.
Air rushed into his lungs in a sharp, uneven gasp as his body jerked against the cold stone floor. For a moment, there was nothing—no thoughts, no awareness—only the fading echo of pain that still lingered deep in his nerves.
Then it came back.
Everything.
The system.
The pain.
Rex.
He stayed still. Not because he wanted to—but because his body hadn't caught up yet.
Slowly, Arthur turned his head.
The prison cell came into view.
Stone walls. Iron bars. Dim light stretching across the floor. Unchanged.
But he wasn't.
A faint sensation stirred deep within him.
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly.
There—something small. Unstable. But real.
Mana.
He inhaled slowly. There was no resistance this time. No invisible force suppressing it. No chains locking it away. His core… was open.
Arthur closed his eyes briefly, focusing inward. The sensation was unfamiliar—like touching something that had always existed just beyond his reach.
Now it was there. Weak. Unrefined. But alive.
Then—the system responded.
SYSTEM PROMPT: CORE UNLOCK CONFIRMED
SYSTEM PROMPT: SOULBORNE STATUS — ACTIVE
Arthur exhaled slowly, opening his eyes again. "…Figures," he muttered.
He pushed himself up slowly, his body protesting with every movement. The pain hadn't fully left him—it lingered, dull but present—but it no longer controlled him.
What mattered now… was control.
Because inside him—
That faint flicker of mana pulsed again. Unstable. Reactive.
Arthur leaned back against the wall, steadying his breathing. Slow. Controlled. The flicker dimmed slightly. Not gone—but quieter. Better.
He glanced toward the corridor. Footsteps echoed faintly in the distance. Measured. Approaching.
Arthur's gaze hardened just a little. No system prompt came this time.
"…Then I'll handle it myself."
The footsteps didn't rush. They never did. Each one landed with quiet certainty, echoing through the corridor like a signal rather than a warning.
Arthur didn't move. Didn't shift. Didn't even adjust his breathing. But his focus sharpened. The faint flicker within him stirred again—reacting, not to fear… but to presence.
Someone strong. Not like the guards he had sensed before. This one carried weight. Control. Intent that didn't need to be shown to be understood.
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly. The footsteps stopped. Right outside his cell. Silence followed. Heavy. Deliberate.
Then—a shadow stretched across the floor, cutting through the dim light as a figure came to a halt just beyond the iron bars. Arthur didn't look up immediately. He let the moment breathe. Let the tension settle.
Then slowly—his gaze lifted. And met him.
Vice Captain Tharen Voss stood there, one hand resting lightly behind his back, the other relaxed at his side. His posture was calm—too calm. Like someone who had already decided the outcome of whatever came next.
His eyes studied Arthur. Not aggressively. Not impatiently. But thoroughly. As if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"…You stabilized faster than expected," Tharen said quietly.
Arthur didn't answer.
Tharen's gaze lingered on him for a second longer—then shifted slightly, as if observing something beyond what was visible. "Interesting," he murmured. "…You're not leaking it anymore."
Arthur's fingers pressed lightly against the stone beneath him. Not a reaction. Just grounding. Tharen noticed anyway. Of course he did. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Good," he said. "That means you learn quickly."
Silence stretched again. Then—he stepped closer. Not threatening. Not cautious. Just… certain.
"Tell me," Tharen said, his voice low, measured—"…what exactly woke up inside you?"
The question hung in the air. Sharp. Precise.
Arthur held his gaze. Unblinking. Unmoving. The flicker inside him pulsed once. Unstable. Waiting.
And for the first time since waking—Arthur understood something clearly.
This wasn't an interrogation. It was interest. And that… was far more dangerous.
The question lingered in the air, sharp, unanswered. Arthur held Tharen's gaze, unmoving, silent.
Then—a faint sound broke the stillness. Metal shifted. Subtle. But enough. Arthur's eyes flicked to the side—just for a second. Rex.
He hadn't moved before. Hadn't reacted. Hadn't spoken. But now—something had changed.
Rex slowly straightened from where he had been sitting, the faint scrape of chains against the floor echoing softly through the cell. His movements weren't rushed. They were controlled. Deliberate.
His gaze lifted and locked onto Arthur. The hatred was still there. Burning. Raw. But now—it wasn't alone. Something else had crept in. Something quieter. Something heavier. Recognition.
Rex's brow tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to see through Arthur rather than at him.
"…You," he muttered.
The word was low. Rough. Uncertain.
Tharen's attention shifted instantly—not to Arthur—but to Rex. A flicker of interest crossed his eyes.
"Well now…" Tharen murmured. "…this just got more interesting."
Arthur didn't speak. Didn't move. But his focus shifted completely now. Rex took a step forward. Slow. Heavy. The faint tension in the air shifted with him.
"I don't…" Rex's voice faltered slightly, his hand tightening at his side. "…I don't know you." A pause. His jaw clenched. "…but I hate you."
Silence. Heavy. Crushing.
Arthur's chest tightened slightly. Not from fear. Not from surprise. From truth.
Tharen watched the exchange carefully, eyes moving between the two of them. Calculating. Piecing something together.
"…Hatred without cause," he said quietly. "Or a cause you don't remember."
Rex didn't respond to him. Didn't even look at him. His eyes never left Arthur.
"Every time I look at you…" Rex continued, voice lower now, more controlled—"…something feels wrong."
A step closer. "Like I lost something." Another step. "…because of you."
Arthur didn't move. Didn't deny it. Didn't explain. Because he couldn't. Not here. Not like this.
The faint flicker of mana inside him pulsed again—reacting, resonating faintly with the surge of emotion coming from Rex. Unstable.
Tharen noticed. Of course he did. His smile deepened slightly. "…Fascinating," he whispered. Two anomalies. One cell. Connected. This was no longer just curiosity. This was something worth watching closely.
Rex stopped just short of the bars separating them, his breathing steady—but his eyes burning with something he didn't understand.
"…What did you do to me?"
The question hit harder than any accusation.
Arthur's gaze didn't waver. "…Nothing you don't already feel," he replied quietly.
A beat. Rex's fists clenched. And for a moment—just a moment—it looked like he might lunge forward.
Then—a new presence entered the corridor.
Heavy. Controlled. Absolute.
The footsteps didn't echo like before. They commanded the space. Tharen's faint smile paused. Not gone—but… restrained.
Arthur felt it too. That subtle pressure. Different from Tharen. Sharper. Cleaner. Authority.
The corridor fell silent as a figure stepped into view.
Captain Kael Veyron.
He didn't rush. Didn't need to. Every step carried quiet dominance, his gaze already fixed on the cell before he even fully approached.
"Vice Captain Tharen." His voice was calm. Flat. But it carried weight.
Tharen straightened slightly, turning to face him. "Captain," he replied, tone smooth as ever.
A brief silence passed between them—unspoken tension threading the space.
Kael's eyes moved past him. To Arthur. To Rex. He took in everything in a single glance. The distance. The posture. The tension.
"…Open it," Kael said. No explanation. No hesitation.
Tharen's brow lifted slightly. Just a fraction. "Both of them?" he asked, almost curious.
Kael didn't look at him. "Yes."
That was enough. A faint chuckle escaped Tharen under his breath as he stepped aside. "Interesting," he murmured.
With a small motion, he signaled the guard further down the corridor. The mechanisms responded immediately.
Clank.
The anti-mana restraints lining the cell flickered. Not disabled—but adjusted.
Click.
The cell door unlocked. The sound echoed louder than it should have.
Rex stilled. Arthur didn't move.
For a brief moment—no one stepped forward.
Kael's gaze remained steady. "…You're both coming with me," he said. Not a request.
Rex's eyes flicked toward him, irritation flashing across his expression. "Try and make me," he muttered. The moment the words left his mouth—the air shifted. Not violently. Not aggressively. Just… enough. Rex's body froze. Not restrained—but pressured. Kael hadn't moved. Hadn't raised his voice. But the message was clear.
Rex clicked his tongue, looking away. "…Tch."
Arthur, on the other hand, stood slowly. Every movement controlled. Measured. His eyes met Kael's. No fear. No defiance. Just awareness.
Kael studied him for a brief second longer—then turned. "Move."
That was it.
Rex stepped forward first, irritation still lingering in his expression—but he didn't resist again. Arthur followed behind him. Silent. Watching. Thinking.
As they passed—Tharen's voice came quietly from the side. "…I'll be watching."
Arthur didn't respond. Didn't look at him. But he felt it. That gaze. Sharp. Patient. Waiting.
And as the three figures disappeared down the corridor—Tharen's smile returned. Slow. Intrigued. "…Now this is getting interesting."