Elias awoke to silence. Silence that pressed on his ears, heavy and absolute. There was no wind, no whisper of movement. Only the slow rhythm of his breath echoing in a space too confined.
He opened his eyes to cold, pale light. The walls around him were smooth and curved. They were an eerie off-white with not a single crack or seam. The floor beneath him was just as featureless. No window. No door. Only the faint humming of something unseen vibrating through the stone.
He sat up, despite the pain from cold stiffness. He reached out and placed his hand against the wall.
His fingers slid right off.
Slick. It shimmered faintly where had touched it.
[ Your current environment has been warded. Anti-magic material detected. Physical interaction will be limited. ]
"No shit," Elias muttered.
He looked down.
His sword was gone.
"Of course it is."
He pressed his back against the wall, exhaling slowly. There was a deep soreness in his ribs, but no stabbing pain. The bruises were gone. Even the deep aches of broken ribs had faded.
[ The Sigil of Vitality has repaired all active damage. Full restoration achieved during unconscious state. ]
Elias ran a hand through his hair. "Where… am I?"
[ It appears… you are no longer within the original timeline. ]
That stopped him cold.
"What?"
[ Temporal displacement suspected. The mirror most likely sucked you here. Records for this place are inaccessible. ]
Elias stared at the shimmering walls. The girl who had screamed The guards.
"That girl…"
He had no answers. Only a prison and a pounding sense of dread.
A soft click echoed across the chamber.
The wall shimmered, and a segment of it dissolved seamlessly, forming an entrance. Light spilled in from beyond – and with it, footsteps.
A man stepped inside.
He was tall, with a broad back and immaculate posture. His coat was deep royal blue, lined with silver trim that glinted under the sterile light. At his hip rested a ceremonial blade, untouched by rust or wear. His hair was dark, slicked back with precision. His face was rugged, sculpted, with a vertical scar running from his right eyebrow down to his cheek, with sharp cold and calculating eyes.
He exuded the air of a man who had killed – and never once regretted it.
"Well," the man said with a deep voice. "You're more conscious than I expected."
Elias said nothing.
"You don't seem to belong from here. I don't know where you came from. I don't know what you are. But I know this: You're dangerous."
He crouched in front of Elias.
"So I'm going to ask this once. You will answer me truthfully, and I might think about sparing you. How… did you get here?"
Elias met his gaze. "I… don't know."
The man stared at him for a moment.
Then smiled.
Without answering, his fist slammed into Elias' stomach, hard enough to lift him off the floor and send him sprawling into the opposite wall.
Pain blossomed like fire spreading across Elias' torso. However, it didn't linger. The sigil flared faintly under his skin.
"Regeneration," the man noted. "All abilities should've been sealed. But it seems… you're quite the special one."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small dagger.
"You know… I've interrogated gods and traitors alike. You're no different. Are you one of them?"
"I don't know what you ar-"
The next blow wasn't a punch.
It was the dagger, plunged clean through Elias' hand.
Elias cried out, writhing as the pain surged. The dagger pulsed with runes that resisted the sigil's healing. Blood spilled, thick and hot.
The man yanked it free with a wet twist.
The wound began to close.
The man watched as the flesh stitched itself back together.
"…Faster than I had expected."
He leaned in.
"Let's find its limits."
This time, he didn't use the dagger.
He reached into his coat and withdrew a pair of pliers. Elias barely had time to register the tool before the man clamped onto his fingers. The skin tore as the pliers twisted, ripping it free in a wet flap. Blood dripped onto the sterile floor.
He screamed. The sigil surged. The tissue closed, but not fast enough.
"I don't know what you are," the torturer said. "But I've seen your kind before."
Elias coughed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No?" he said.
The man returned with a thin pair of pliers.
Without ceremony, he jammed them between Elias' fingers and twisted. Skin tore loose. Blood soaked his hand. Elias screamed.
[ Warning: Sigil of Vitality under constant stress. Repeated trauma accelerating regeneration. Corruption risk may increase. ]
The words seared across Elias' mind. But there was no reprieve. Why was he here? What had he done to deserve such a fate?
The man hummed with a hint of amusement on his face. "Great! GREAT!! You're even better than I had anticipated!!"
He stabbed a corkscrew into Elias' thigh. It spiraled into muscle and lodged in bone. Then, yanked free. A thick spray of blood followed.
Then he reached for something new.
"You know… I've always been meaning to try something like this…"
He retrieved the pliers again.
Elias barely had time to process what was coming.
The pliers clamped around the edge of his eyeball.
And pressed.
A sickening pop echoed through the cell.
Pain exploded in his skull. His nerves flared like wildfire, all while the man stared down at him with a pleased face. His vision went red, then black. Blood poured down his cheeks.
Elias thrashed, gurgling. The sigil fought to repair the rupture – but couldn't reach it fast enough.
The man twisted the pliers once – then tore.
The eyeball came free, still trailing nerve tissue like stringy sinew, twitching violently.
"Ah," the man breathed. "It's… beautiful…"
Elias howled. The socket spasmed. The sigil surged again, yet his empty socket remained
[ Corruption risk at 43%. Forced regeneration exceeding stable threshold. ]
"You'll remember this," the man whispered. "You lie like they lie."
And then – silence fell as the man stepped back.
For the first time, his voice softened. "Unless…"
Elias blinked through tears, lips trembling. "I… I don't know… anything…"
The man stared for a moment.
Then he turned and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Elias sagged in his restraints. The cell was cold and covered with blood.
He looked down.
His chest was a lattice of half-healed scars. His limbs trembled, twitching from regeneration. His skin had reknit where bone had cracked. But it wasn't smooth. It was imperfect.
And then – his eye.
His hand trembled as it rose, shakily and slowly.
He touched the left side of his face.
Where once had been an eye… now there was nothing.
Just an open, hollow void. The socket was dry and crusted with blood. It hadn't regenerated. The sigil hadn't saved it.
It was just… gone.
He let his hand drop. The restraint clinked faintly as it fell limp.
Why? Why was he going through all of this?
He blinked his remaining eye and barely stared down.
Was he even human anymore?
He wanted to cry. But the pain had scorched even that reflex out of him.
There was no space left for grief. Only numbness.
He wanted to speak, yet no words came out.
Elias tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.
A minute passed.
Maybe more.
Then, he heard footsteps.
A mechanical chime.
The wall hissed open.
A new figure entered. She was tall, cloaked in black, face concealed behind a white plague doctor's mask. Her lenses glowed a soft unnatural green.
"That will do," she said.
"He's not a part of them. No need to take out your anger on him. He's my asset."
The torturer scoffed behind her.
She stepped forward and crouched beside Elias. "Doesn't look like he can take it any longer…"
The man looked at her. "Then what do we do?"
She stood, hovering her hand over Elias' chest.
Her voice lowered.
"We start over."
Suddenly, the sigil flared.
Elias' body convulsed.
[ Corruption threshold exceeded. System override failure. Initiating— ]
Elias's body convulsed before bursting into blood.
The woman shielded her face as motes scattered like ash.
The man stepped back, stunned. "What the?!"
And just like that — Elias was gone – leaving only the scent of ruin behind.