The silence after Selene's fall was heavier than any chain. Dust clung to the air, glowing faintly in the dull light of cracked crystals. The battlefield lay in ruin—burnt stone, shattered corpses of dungeon beasts, and the fading shimmer of Selene's broken illusions.
Kael stood in the center, claws still trembling, his chest heaving as though the fight had only just ended. Yet it wasn't the battle that gnawed at him—it was the decision.
He had chosen Reina.
Lyra's staff clattered as she lowered it, her hands white-knuckled and trembling. "Kael… why?" she whispered, her voice raw, stripped of all composure. "After everything Selene did, you… you chose her. You chose Reina."
Moro padded closer, hackles raised, amber eyes sharp. The wolf-man's growl lingered in the ruins. "He chose survival," Moro muttered. "But survival doesn't always mean trust." His gaze slid toward Reina.
She stood untouched amid the chaos, her dark cloak swaying faintly in the still air, eyes calm as though the world around her had never mattered. No blade in hand, no blood on her skin. Yet all the destruction somehow seemed to orbit her presence, like planets bound to their sun.
Kael's hunger writhed violently inside him, like a beast clawing at its cage. It had grown louder when he stood near her, as if her presence sharpened the gnawing ache instead of quieting it. He had chosen her help—but every instinct warned him she was another kind of chain.
"I didn't choose her," Kael rasped finally, voice rough as stone. His golden eyes flickered between Reina and the broken chains still scattered across the ground. "I chose not to let Selene bind me again."
"Pretty words," Lyra shot back, her tone trembling, "but what happens when she decides to bind you in another way? You think Reina's any different?"
Reina only smiled faintly, unfazed by the accusation. "If I wanted him bound," she said coolly, "he would already be on his knees."
Lyra flinched, but Moro bristled, claws gouging the stone floor.
Kael stepped forward before the wolf-man lunged. "Enough," he growled, his own claws flexing. His hunger surged, demanding he strike, tear, prove himself—but he forced it down with ragged breath. "If she wanted me dead, she could've let Selene finish the job. She didn't." His gaze cut to Reina. "So tell me. Why?"
Reina tilted her head, golden eyes gleaming. "Because I don't break toys before they're sharp enough to matter."
The words scraped down his spine like a blade. A cruel answer—but honest. More honest than Selene's sweet lies had ever been.
Before Kael could respond, a soft cough echoed from the shadows. A new figure stepped into the ruined chamber. A young woman, her cloak torn and bloodied, but her hands glowing faintly with healing light. Her eyes—deep green, tired but kind—swept across the room.
"Kael," she breathed, relief flooding her tone. "You're alive."
Kael froze. For a heartbeat, the hunger inside him went still, quiet as snow. He knew that voice. Not from this dungeon, not from this endless war. From before. From a time he had almost forgotten.
"Iria," he whispered.
Lyra blinked, startled. "You know her?"
The healer's lips trembled into a faint smile. "Of course he does. We were taken the same night. Stolen by the dungeon when we were children."
The words struck Kael harder than any chain. Memories, faint and fractured, clawed their way back—moonlight on broken glass, screams, the cold pull of stone swallowing him whole. And another child's hand clutching his before it was torn away.
His claws scraped the floor. His hunger screamed—but not for blood this time. For memory. For something lost.
Reina's gaze sharpened at the healer. "So," she murmured, "a survivor."
Iria ignored her, stepping closer to Kael, though wariness shadowed her movements. "I've been searching, Kael. For years. I thought I was the only one left." Her eyes shimmered, voice breaking. "But you're here. You're alive."
Kael opened his mouth—but no words came. The hunger inside him twisted violently, unable to make sense of the ache in his chest.
Lyra glanced between them, confusion flickering across her face. Moro remained still, eyes narrowing, studying the healer as though waiting for her to prove herself real.
Reina, however, stepped forward, her voice cutting the silence like a blade. "Another chain of the past," she said flatly. "Careful, Kael. The dungeon has many ways to distract beasts who should be moving forward."
Kael turned, eyes blazing at her. "She's not a chain." His voice was raw, more a snarl than words.
Reina met his fury with calm certainty. "Everything is a chain. The question is—will you let it bind you, or will you make it yours?"
The chamber fell silent again, save for the distant groan of the dungeon's shifting walls. Kael's claws trembled at his sides, his hunger gnashing violently. He had chosen Reina, but the dungeon had chosen to throw Iria into his path as well. A reminder of the child he had been, and the cost of the monster he had become.
And for the first time, Kael wondered if survival was truly his choice at all—or if he had been following the dungeon's will since the night it stole him