Adam was ready to face Sern and planned to go to Bekanna. Urek and Spam decided to join him.
"Are you some kind of battle junkie?" Spam asked, eyeing Adam.
Adam frowned. "What?"
"I'm just saying—anyone with sense would walk away. I knew the people you're trying to avenge longer than you did, and even I'm willing to let it go." Spam gestured at Urek. "Him, I understand. The Zenonites enslaved him. But you?"
Before they left, Iyan cautioned Adam, though his warning lingered unspoken.
They took one of the ships docked at D'sul. It couldn't penetrate the atmosphere on its own, so it was encased in a launch rocket. As they shot upward, a section detached once they crossed the troposphere, then another after the thermosphere. What remained was a lightweight, jagged-edged metal craft—shaped like an elongated diamond with thrusters.
The cockpit had four seats—two for pilots, two for passengers. Adam sat in the back while Urek and Spam piloted. As they prepared for light-speed travel, a shimmering bubble formed around the ship. The journey took eight hours.
When they arrived, Urek suited up while Spam landed near Mount Fig. Sern was already waiting.
"I'm sorry," Spam muttered to Adam, his voice strained. His eyes felt heavy, his legs weak.
Sern smirked. "I thought you said there was someone else with you."
"I thought you said there was someone else with you," Sern said, eyeing Spam.
Spam nodded quickly. "Urek's no threat."
But Urek was nowhere to be seen. He had turned invisible.
Silent and unseen, he watched as Sern lifted Spam and an unconscious Adam into the air, carrying them away.
Adam woke up in a dimly lit room, his wrists and ankles bound. He struggled against the restraints, but they held firm.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing off the cold walls. No response.
The silence was unnerving. Wherever he was, it wasn't just a prison—it was a place meant to be forgotten. No one in Bekanna would know to look for him here.
Adam sensed someone else in the darkness. He struggled against his restraints, but they wouldn't budge.
"It's shiroki," a voice rasped from the shadows. "You cannot break free."
Even through the roughness, Adam could tell it was a woman.
"Who are you?" he asked, straining his eyes.
She didn't answer. Instead, she asked, "What did you do?"
"I tried to kill Sern. You?"
A pause. Then, a cough.
"Same."
Adam shifted, testing the restraints again. "How long have you been here?"
"I don't know." Another cough. "There's no way to tell."
A dry rasp filled the silence before she spoke again. "They keep us in the dark. No sun, no stars. Just cold stone and shiroki."
Adam flexed his fingers, feeling the unyielding material of his restraints. It was smooth, almost warm, as if it were alive.
"Have you seen them?" he asked.
A pause. Then, another cough. "No. Only their voices. Their hands, when they tighten the binds. They don't need to see us to know when we struggle."
Adam swallowed. "Then how do you know they're even real?"
The woman let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Because when they take you, they don't bring you back."
Silence settled between them. Adam's pulse quickened. He had only just arrived, but she—she had been here long enough to sound like a ghost of herself.
"Are you sick?" he asked.
A shuffle, the faintest movement in the dark. "Not yet."
Not yet.
A new kind of fear coiled in Adam's stomach.
A door groaned open, flooding the room with pale light. A figure stepped inside.
Sern.
Adam clenched his fists.
"I don't know how you survived Eden," Sern said, his voice cold. "But you'll wish you died there."
Adam lunged, but his restraints held firm.
Sern smirked. "Resistance is futile. This is shiroki. I don't fully understand it, but it keeps prisoners contained. Even the strong ones." He turned his gaze toward the voice in the shadows.
"No matter how powerful you are, you never break free. It adapts—feeds on your strength. The more you struggle, the tighter it holds."
A ragged voice cut through the dim light. "Where did you take the others?"
Sern exhaled, almost amused. "That's Shuxeta. She's been here for, what… twenty years?" He let the number hang in the air before turning back to Adam. "Don't worry. I doubt you'll last that long. The shiroki… it does something to you. I could feel it just from holding a piece of it. Prolonged exposure breaks the mind."
He stepped back toward the door, smirking. "See you in five years."
The light vanished as the door sealed shut, plunging the room back into darkness.
Urek had been walking for hours. His oxygen was nearly gone.
Then, in the distance—salvation. A massive dome loomed ahead.
Summoning the last of his strength, he stumbled toward it. Thirty minutes later, he reached the structure, hands trembling as he searched for an entrance. Nothing. Just smooth, seamless glass.
His oxygen meter blinked red. Two minutes left.
Desperation kicked in. He ran alongside the dome, pounding against it with gloved hands. No response.
One minute.
His breaths turned shallow. His vision blurred. He slammed his fists harder.
5… 4… 3… 2…
With a final, desperate strike, the glass shattered. A sharp beep echoed through the dome as alarms blared.
Urek ripped off his gas mask. He gasped. He could breathe.
Light flared around him. Before he could react, something hit him hard.
He crashed to the ground.