Kael slowly opened his eyes.
His eyelids felt as though they were lined with lead; as he moved, the sweat and dryness gathered at the corners of his eyes began to sting. A relentless, throbbing pain pulsed through his head—like nails hammered into his skull. As his pupils struggled to adjust to the light, Kael muttered inwardly.
"I hate this feeling…"
He'd lost count of how many times he'd woken up like this recently. Once his eyes were fully open, he began to scan his surroundings. Stone walls, a dusty floor, and a heavy, musty odor filled the air… The atmosphere was cool, but the air stung his throat with a moldy sharpness. A silence that seeped into his bones and then…
Screams from above.
At first, they sounded like a distant hum to Kael. But as he focused, he realized the voices were becoming clearer. It was the screams of a crowd. Some were crying, some shouting, others speaking frantically. Voices of men, women… even children. Kael's face tensed.
"What's going on up there?"
He began to sit up slowly. Every movement was like torture; his body ached, his muscles felt as if they had been clenched for far too long. Brushing off the dust that clung to him, he rose to his feet. His knees wobbled for a moment, but he regained balance. He stared at the ceiling above. The direction of the sounds was obvious upstairs, from the upper floors of the building.
Kael shook his head slightly and examined his surroundings. He was in a dim basement. The only light came from a grate in the corner of the ceiling, through which the morning sun filtered in. It must have been daylight. Which meant… he had been unconscious for quite a long time. He couldn't tell exactly how long, but the contrast between the darkness inside and the chaos outside made it clear that time had passed.
"I should call out," he thought. Maybe if someone hears… maybe someone will notice him. Maybe this cursed loneliness will come to an end.
He began staggering toward the door, his steps unsteady. It was a wooden door very old, its hinges rusted, its surface covered with scratches and dents. He raised his hand and touched it cautiously. The door's surface was cold, unnervingly lifeless.
Then he raised his fist.
"Hey! Is anyone out there?"
His first shout was feeble. Realizing how weak his voice had sounded, he filled his lungs and shouted again.
"What's happening up there?! I'm here! Can you hear me?! HEY!"
The more he shouted, the clearer the sounds from above became. There was panic perhaps a fire, an attack, or some other nightmare. A thousand scenarios raced through Kael's mind. But no one responded to him.
He placed his hand on the door again. This time, he began pounding on it. His fingers hurt, but he didn't stop.
"I said I'm here! Someone… someone has to hear me!"
Still, there was no answer.
Only the unintelligible shouting from above, chaotic footsteps, and the occasional crash of something falling… Kael leaned back against the door in despair. He crouched to see through the narrow gap under the door, but nothing was visible. Just footsteps… and darkness.
He took a deep breath.
"The ones who locked me in here… what are they doing? Is this… a coincidence? Or… part of the plan?"
Dark thoughts began to gnaw at Kael's mind. But one thing was certain: he couldn't stay there any longer. No matter what, he had to get upstairs. He had to see those voices, that fear, that crowd… with his own eyes.
But first, he had to find a way to open this door.
Kael's feet struck the door over and over, the wooden surface starting to crack but he didn't stop. His knees began to burn, and anyone else might have pulled back. But for Kael, pain no longer held meaning. It was as if the connection between his body and mind had severed. Only movement remained blind desperation.
Then, that familiar voice echoed from a corner of the room like a soulless announcement descending from the air:
New Skill: Numbed Sensation.
Kael turned his head and glanced sideways at the glowing red window. In the past, whenever he saw these screens, something would stir inside him hope for an answer, an explanation. But now… now it meant nothing.
"Goddammit…" he muttered, breathing heavily, chest heaving, "Is this it? Do you think I care?"
His voice didn't come out, but his thoughts were venomous. "If you really can feel… if you're really watching me… give me something useful. Not these ridiculous skills."
He thought of the men in the room how they had pulled paper and pens from nothing. They had created what didn't exist in their hands. "Maybe I can do it too…" Kael thought for a moment, closing his eyes and focusing.
But nothing happened.
Only silence.
And darkness.
In that moment, the last flicker within him seemed to die. He kept hitting the door, but now it was weak more like a ritual than an effort. What he was striking was not the door, but his own fate.
"It's over…" he thought, his shoulders slumping. "No one's coming… nothing's going to change…"
His mind was collapsing inward like a void. Hope had become a burden to him a dream too heavy to carry.
In that cold moment, Kael remained like a shell. Eyes open, but seeing nothing. No screams outside, no sound, no light.
Only darkness. And waiting.
As human voices approached slowly from afar, accompanied by approaching footsteps, Kael continued his motionless vigil. He couldn't fully grasp what was happening, only sat there with the weight inside him. His head lowered, helplessly awaiting the arrival of his fate. After a long silence, he heard the door creak open and several people enter.
"The time has come. Stand up, Artemus," echoed a stern, familiar voice throughout the room. That voice had carved itself deep into Kael's memory. It belonged to Arthur. His presence made the air grow even heavier. The middle-aged man stepped inside slowly, glanced at the footprints by the door, and spoke in a mocking tone: "Nice try, but not this time."
Arthur quickly approached Kael, grabbed his arms tightly, and locked shackles onto his wrists. Kael knew resisting was futile now; he had accepted his situation. He slowly stood with heavy steps. Arthur held his left hand, while someone else gripped his right—Luther.
At first, Kael hadn't recognized Luther, but now he could see him clearly. Both men stood with a formal, military bearing, dressed in neatly pressed uniforms. Every movement radiated discipline and authority. It was a stark, cold reality, so different from Kael's own world.
The three of them began leading Kael slowly out of the room. Every step echoed heavily in Kael's mind. Stair after stair rose before them, taking them from the cold darkness of the underground dungeon toward the light of the outside world.
In the first few steps, his eyes had adjusted to the dark, but as the sunlight struck his eyes directly, Kael was forced to squint for a while. Though the brightness disturbed him, it also symbolized the freedom he hadn't seen in so long.
As they climbed the stairs, he felt himself getting closer to the surface with every step. His emotions were a mixture of fear, curiosity, and a sliver of hope. This wasn't just a physical ascent—it was a chance to resolve the uncertainties of his life.
At last, a large, heavy door appeared before them. Made of iron and thick wood, it bore the marks of years and countless events. Luther and Arthur opened it together. The door creaked open, and Kael couldn't believe his eyes.
What he had expected and what he saw were worlds apart. Emerging from the dungeon's darkness, he wasn't stepping into the light of hope—but into an entirely different world.
The air around him felt like it had come from another era. This was not the world where people lived, but a deeper, more mystical and unknown realm. Kael slowly took a deep breath. He wavered between the feeling of freedom brought by reaching the surface… and the unease of entering the unknown.
Arthur and Luther remained beside him, standing firm, as if waiting. In Kael's mind, once again, a storm of questions raged: "Where is this place? Why am I here? Who is Artemus? And where do I fit in all this chaos?"