The morning mist clung to the trees as birds called from distant branches. Outside the hideout, beneath a tall pine, Blake sat on a smooth rock, absently spinning one of his daggers between his fingers. Malrek leaned against a tree nearby, arms folded, his hood pulled low against the morning light.
After a moment of silence, Blake finally spoke.
"You said something the other day… that you knew Caelum."
Malrek didn't answer right away. A breeze rustled through the trees before he responded.
"Yeah. I did."
Blake looked over, narrowing his eyes. "You didn't sound like it was just an acquaintance."
Malrek exhaled, like dragging the answer up was harder than he expected.
"We were childhood friends," he said quietly.
"Grew up together in the capital. He was always the one with the silver tongue, sharp wit, and clean robes. I was the opposite — a troublemaker, always bruised, always dirty. But somehow, we clicked."
Blake raised a brow. "Hard to imagine you as a kid running around with some noble's son."
Malrek smirked faintly. "It was a different life. One I lost when I got branded a deviant. But Caelum… he didn't turn his back on me. Even when the world did. He rose through the ranks, became someone special in society, yet still found ways to secretly meet with me and hang out. He brought me food and water when nobody else could and stayed with me until it was late at night."
Blake leaned forward, intrigued. "So he's the one who sent you to the cave? To save me?"
Malrek nodded. "He told me I'd find you in that cave. He said you were his brother and that I needed to find you and train you...make you stronger. And I agreed."
Blake went quiet, taking that in. Then, almost to himself:
"And now look at us."
Malrek pushed off the tree. "Fate's got a sick sense of humor."
Blake gave a half-smile, then stood. "Time to see if fate's got one more twist left in it."
The Black Halo gathered once more around the war table inside the hideout's main chamber. A map was spread across the surface, peppered with markers, notes, and names.
Blake stood at the head of the table. His voice was calm but firm.
"I'm going to talk to Rollo."
Protests immediately erupted again.
"You'll get yourself killed!"
"He's a duke, Blake—"
"This is insane."
Blake raised a hand.
"That's why I'm going alone. If I show up with a squad, it's war. If I go alone, it's… a conversation. A chance."
Javier crossed his arms. "And if it's a trap?"
"Then you'll know," Blake replied.
"I'll make sure of it. But this is something I have to do. Not just for Mirai… but for answers. For closure."
Malrek gave him a slight nod. "Then let's get you where it all began."
As Blake prepared to leave, strapping on his blades and checking his cloak, Lora approached him quietly.
She hesitated, then spoke.
"I just… I wanted to say thank you. For everything. Even when the rest of us were afraid, you stepped forward."
Blake turned to her and smiled gently.
"If I don't come back, make sure Malrek doesn't turn this place into a permanent bachelor cave."
Lora snorted a laugh, shaking her head. "Idiot."
He leaned closer, voice low, teasing:
"Careful, if you blush any harder, people might start asking questions."
Lora turned red and slapped his shoulder lightly.
"Just go already."
As Malrek prepared the portal, swirling it open with a gesture of his fingers, Selene rushed in from the side.
"Blake!"
He turned, and before he could react, she threw her arms around him.
"Come back. Please."
He hugged her back tightly, closing his eyes for a moment.
"I will. I promise."
Selene looked up at him, searching his face."You better."
Blake smiled. "Wouldn't miss the next argument with you for the world."
With one last nod to Malrek, he turned toward the swirling portal — its center a blur of stone walls and dim light — the same cave he had once been buried in.
He stepped through without hesitation.
And just like that, Blake disappeared into his past.
The cave was cold, damp, and smelled of mold and rusted iron.
Blake walked deeper into the darkness, his footsteps crunching lightly against the rocky floor. His eyes locked onto the rusted chains that once held him — the same chains that had bitten into his wrists during the worst moments of his life.
But it wasn't the chains that stopped him.
It was the blood.
A thick pool of it, fresh and dark, stained the ground beside the manacles. Blake crouched down, touching it with two fingers. It was still wet.
"Someone was here," he muttered under his breath, his anger building like a storm.
"And recently."
His hands clenched into fists. Rollo was still using this place. Still chaining people up like animals. Nothing had changed.
Blake stood, his body trembling with rage. Without hesitation, he walked toward the blocked exit. His palms pressed against the heavy boulder that sealed the entrance.
With a low growl, he shoved it aside.
Light flooded the cave. As his eyes adjusted, two guards clad in Tempest blue uniforms turned in shock.
"Hey! Who the hell are you?!"
Before answering, the guards captured him and knocked him out. This, although, was all part of his plan to get to Rollo.
The cold stone floor scraped Blake's skin as the guards dragged his limp body through the halls of the Tempest estate. His face was bruised, blood dripping from a gash near his brow. A sharp ache throbbed in his ribs with every breath—one of them was definitely cracked.
The guards opened the iron-barred cell and tossed him in like an animal. Chains clinked as they locked his wrists to the wall, high enough to keep him half-suspended, barely able to sit without wrenching his arms.
One of the guards spat at his feet.
"You should've stayed in the cave, freak."
The cell door clanged shut, and silence fell. Only the drip of water from the ceiling and the rattling of his chains broke it. He had succeeded in phase one of the operation.