"What do you mean, she's dead?" Leo demanded, voice tight with disbelief.
Carl's eyes flicked to him, a hard, unreadable glint. "And what do you mean, speaking of my mother like that?"
"Your mother… you—do you mean my grandmother?" Carl's words stumbled out, incredulous.
"Everyone out," the commander ordered.
"What?" Tayler and Eileen protested at once.
"I said: everyone out."
They obeyed. One by one they left the room, until only Veronica remained, standing like a statue at the far end. The air between them grew colder; the click of the closing door sounded like a verdict.
"Why did you send everyone away?" Leo demanded. "I need to leave this place."
"You will not go anywhere," the commander replied calmly. "Veronica—bind him with chains. I don't want him leaving this room."
"You can't chain me. I won't—" He tried to rise, to make a stand, but Veronica moved like shadow and force: a single, brutal strike to his abdomen and he crumpled, the breath knocked from him. Darkness lapped at the edges of his vision.
"Commander," someone whispered from the doorway. "What is the meaning of these actions?"
Carl did not flinch. "Look at him. Look at that black blood, at the marks that appear again and again. And—" he hesitated, as if the words themselves tasted of fear, "—a little while ago he was in the Black Room, I felt it."
"The Black Room?" the voice echoed, incredulous.
"Yes. He went in. I don't believe he can open and close it by himself. If he had been trapped inside—he might have died."
"So what do we do now?" came the urgent question.
"There is no easy answer," the commander said, voice flat and resigned. "Either he learns to control it—learns to control that thing inside him—or his recklessness will be his end. Locking him up won't solve it for long. But a user of black energy in the organization is something we cannot cope with."
The sentence hung in the air like a threat. Outside, beyond the sealed door, the corridor lay quiet as a held breath. Inside, beneath the soft clink of chain and the rasp of a labored breath, the room seemed to wait for the next mistake.
"Wait—wait a second. Are you saying his energy isn't pure?"
She turned to him, confusion etched across her face.
He nodded slowly, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "It's something else… something created. I couldn't identify what it is, but I'm certain—it's not pure energy. Keep this between us."
With that, the two of them left, closing the door behind them.
–––
A sharp knock echoed through the quiet hall, dragging Tyler from his half-sleep.
"Who's there?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
The door creaked open. Eileen slipped inside without a word and shut it softly behind her. Her gaze swept the room—the neatly made bed beside his caught her attention.
"So," she said quietly, "there you are."
He frowned. "What?"
"Didn't the commander release your friend, I mean it's been a week now?"
Tyler sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No. I heard he's keeping him locked in the basement."
Eileen pulled a small key from her pocket and dangled it between her fingers, the metal glinting faintly in the dim light. "Then… would you like to visit him?"
Tyler reached out instinctively, but she pulled the key back with a teasing smirk. "A-a-a, not so fast. First, I want an explanation—what exactly happened to Leo that day?"
He laughed nervously. "Ha—uh—I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Good night, then." She turned to leave.
He caught the edge of her cloak. "I was joking! You really don't take a joke, do you? Sit down, please."
She hesitated, then sat on the edge of his bed. "Well?"
Tyler's voice dropped. "I think Leo is a black-energy user."
"Wonderful," she said flatly, standing up again. "Good night."
"Wait—I'm serious."
Her brows knit together. "You're serious?"
He met her gaze, silent but unwavering.
"So… that means he…" She trailed off, her words hanging like smoke in the air.
"I don't know if he did it or not," Tyler admitted. "But if he did—this could be a disaster."
"Get up."
"Where are we going?"
"To Leo, obviously. If we can't figure it out ourselves, we'll ask him directly."
They slipped through the corridors like shadows, descending into the cold, stone-lined basement. Minutes later, they stood before him.
The sight rooted them to the floor. Leo sat slumped against the wall, his eyes burning a deep, unnatural crimson. Black tears streaked his cheeks; a thick, inky blood seeped from his mouth. The air around him seemed to tremble.
"Hey… partner?" Tyler whispered, stepping closer. "You okay?"
The instant he moved within reach, something invisible struck him back—a violent, unseen barrier that sent him crashing into the wall. He groaned, breathless, as the darkness around Leo pulsed like a living thing, warning them both to stay away.
Eileen reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against the shimmering barrier. It stung—sharp and electric—but her power was enough to let her hand slip through. She had no idea Leo was awake until his hand shot forward, seizing her wrist in a grip so strong it felt as if her bones might shatter.
"Leo—let go! Let—"
Her voice faded as a rush of vertigo swallowed her. The world tilted, then dissolved. For a moment, it felt as if her mind had been pulled into his—two consciousnesses twisting together in the dark.
When her vision cleared, she was no longer in the basement.
A vast, black sea stretched beneath her, its waves unnaturally still. Floating above it was a white couch, and upon it sat a woman—old, graceful, and impossibly composed. Leo lay across her lap, asleep, pale as glass. Eileen found herself seated on a single chair several meters away, unable to move, merely watching.
The woman looked up and smiled faintly.
"Ah. Miss Eileen. I didn't expect you to visit so soon."
"What—who are you? Where am I?"
Eileen tried to step forward, but the woman raised a delicate finger in warning.
"If I were you, I wouldn't place a foot down there."
Eileen glanced at the water beneath her—it was blacker than ink, shifting as if something lived within it.
The woman's eyes flicked toward a strange, ornate clock hanging in the void.
"Time is short, Miss Eileen. You should leave now. Oh, and—take Leo with you."
She rose effortlessly, walking across the dark water as if it were glass, carrying Leo in her arms. She set him beside Eileen and smiled again.
"We'll meet again soon. Next time, though, I'd like to see the third one with you. Don't be late."
"I don't understand—what's happening? Who are you?"
The woman reclined once more on her white couch, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
"Hmm. You haven't realized yet?" she murmured, then whispered a name that chilled the air between them.
"Émilie Lumière."
–––
When Eileen opened her eyes again, she was lying on the floor, surrounded by faces—Tyler, Veronica, and the commander.
"What happened?" she asked weakly.
Tyler exhaled shakily. "Leo had you pinned down. You were unconscious for a while. Luckily, the commander and Veronica showed up in time—we managed to pull you free. You're safe now. But Leo… he hasn't woken up yet."
A quiet, broken voice cut through the air.
"Who said I haven't woken up?"
They all turned. Leo's eyes had opened—no longer red, but a deep, unnatural yellow that gleamed in the dim light. He fixed his gaze on Eileen.
"You saw her, didn't you?"
Everyone froze. Eileen's throat went dry, her heart pounding.
"Yes," she whispered. "I saw Émilie Lumière."
Carl grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly, disbelief etched across his face.
"What do you mean, Eileen? How did you see her?"
"I don't know," she said breathlessly. "Everything went dark—and she was there. With Leo."
Carl's expression twisted, his voice barely a whisper. "That's impossible. She's dead. I know she's dead. It makes no sense…"
Veronica glanced between them, her voice careful, almost fearful.
"Sir… forgive me for asking, but—are you absolutely sure the former duchess is truly dead?"