Cold hands gripped my arms and dragged me deeper into the underground chamber. My wrists were tied behind my back with thick rope that burned my skin every time the kidnappers pulled. My ankles scraped the stone floor as I stumbled forward. The air changed the farther we went. It became heavier and thicker, carrying the smell of rust, damp straw, and something faintly metallic. Blood. Old or new, I could not tell.
They pulled me through a narrow hallway and into a larger room that opened like a deep wound beneath the town. Lanterns hung from iron hooks along the walls, their flames trembling in the draft that leaked down from the stairwell above. Long shadows stretched across the floor, and in those shadows sat the cages.
Children lay inside them. Some curled into themselves, trembling. Others stared blankly, their expressions dulled by fear or exhaustion. One child whispered to another in a trembling voice, but I could not hear the words. It did not matter. I already understood the meaning. They were terrified.
The kidnappers shoved me onto a heavy wooden chair at the center of the chamber. The chair was bolted to the floor. It had grooves carved into the armrests as if many wrists had struggled there before. They tied my legs to the chair's base and looped more rope around my chest to keep me from leaning forward.
One of the men tightened the ropes around my wrists until pain spiked up my arms. He stepped back, breathing heavily. "He is secure," he said.
Another man nodded. "Good. Bring him forward. The leader will want to see him."
The leader.
The word felt heavy.
Whoever commanded this place had control over everyone here. Even the kidnappers stood straighter when they said his name.
The far end of the room looked darker than the rest. The lantern light did not reach there fully, leaving a curtain of shadow covering a raised platform. The kidnappers glanced toward it nervously, waiting.
I stayed silent, letting my breathing settle. My pulse hammered hard beneath my ribs, but keeping my mind clear was the only advantage I had left. Observing was the only thing I could still do.
A soft sound broke the silence.
Footsteps.
Slow and steady.
A figure walked out of the darkness.
At first I saw his outline. Tall. Confident. His movements controlled and quiet, as if he did not need to announce himself. The lantern light finally caught his face.
My stomach tightened.
It was Ardon Vale.
The Protector of Eastway.
The hero the town trusted.
The man who had returned hours earlier from killing monsters.
The man children waved to when he passed.
Now he stood in a cult's underground chamber wearing a dark robe, his expression cold and unreadable. He no longer carried the gentle authority he showed in the daylight. Here, he looked like a man accustomed to being obeyed without question.
My breath froze for a moment.
He was their leader.
Ardon walked closer, stopping just in front of me. His eyes looked down at me with a calmness that felt unnatural. Not anger. Not curiosity. Something else. Something that said he had already judged me.
"So this is the spy from the Spartan Guild," Ardon said.
His voice was quiet but clear. It carried easily in the silent room.
"I am not a spy," I said. My voice cracked from dryness. "I came here looking for a missing girl. She was taken."
The man standing to my left laughed. "Listen to him. They always say that. The Spartan Guild teaches them to act harmless." He tapped my head with the back of his knuckles. "Too young to fool anyone."
Ardon raised a hand, and the man silenced instantly.
Ardon looked at me again. "You followed one of my men without hesitation. You found this place. You saw our work. And you entered without fear." He paused. "Perfect behavior for a trained spy."
Everything he said was wrong. Every assumption twisted. But explaining the truth would change nothing. People like him never doubted their conclusions.
"I followed because a girl went missing," I said. "I saw her ribbon on the ground. That is all."
Ardon tilted his head slightly, a faint gesture of disappointment. "Even now, you choose to lie."
He turned away from me and walked a slow circle around the chair. His steps were even and thoughtful, as if he were examining a specimen. When he finished the circle, he stopped behind me.
"You saw the children," he said quietly. "You saw the tools. You saw what most people in this town will never know." His voice did not change. "I cannot allow that."
My throat tightened. He spoke of the cages and injuries as if they were nothing more than pieces of equipment.
One of the kidnappers stepped forward. "What should we do with him, leader?"
Ardon's eyes lowered. "We start with the truth. Then we decide the rest."
The man nodded eagerly and went to a table covered in tools. I saw long nails, small knives, pliers, and a thin hammer. He looked at the items as if he were choosing spices for a meal.
He returned holding a rusted nail between his fingers. It was long and slightly bent.
"Hold his hand," he said.
The other kidnapper gripped my left wrist and pressed it firmly against the armrest. I pulled instinctively, but the rope held tight. My pulse beat in my ears.
The man placed the tip of the nail against the back of my hand.
"This is for lying about the guild," he said.
He raised the hammer.
The first strike shook my entire arm. The nail pierced through the skin slowly, not cleanly. Pain shot through my fingers and wrist, spreading up to my shoulder like fire. I hissed sharply, unable to stop the sound.
The second strike drove the nail deeper, through flesh and against bone. My vision blurred for a moment. My breathing became uneven.
The kidnapper smiled faintly. "Good. You can feel it."
Ardon watched without emotion.
The man moved to my right hand and repeated the process. The hammer hit harder this time, as if he wanted to hear a sound. The nail pushed through my skin, and warm blood dripped onto the floor. Pain pulsed in waves until my arms trembled uncontrollably.
I clenched my teeth.
Do not scream.
Do not give them what they want.
The man wiped his hands on a cloth. "Eyes next," he muttered.
Ardon shook his head slightly. "No. Not yet. He must see everything."
The kidnapper nodded, disappointed.
He stepped behind me, gripping my head roughly. "Open your mouth," he ordered.
I did not.
He forced my jaw open with a painful twist, pressing his fingers into my cheeks.
He held a small hooked blade.
"This is for silence," he said.
Before I could react, he sliced a shallow line across the side of my tongue. Pain burst through my mouth, sharp and wet. Blood filled my throat and I coughed, choking on it. The taste was metallic and warm.
Another cut followed, smaller but just as sharp.
My body shook. The world swayed slightly. The rope around my chest felt too tight.
The kidnapper stepped back. "Still not talking?"
Ardon moved closer, his shadow falling over me. "Why did you come here?" he asked again.
I spit blood to the side and tried to form words. They came out broken. "The girl… you took her."
Ardon studied me. "So you followed us alone, without support or backup." He leaned slightly closer. "Not brave. Foolish."
Something inside me snapped. Maybe it was pain. Maybe anger. Maybe the sight of the cages that held children like broken dolls. Or maybe it was the memory of Lila screaming my name when I died.
My voice trembled but I forced the words out. "I will not break. I will outlive you."
The kidnapper behind me laughed. "Listen to that. He still thinks he has a chance."
Ardon's expression remained unchanged, but his eyes hardened.
"You should not look at me that way," he said softly. "Hatred is heavy. And you do not have the strength to carry it."
I stared at him, unable to stop myself. My face twisted, not in fear anymore, but in anger. A deep anger. A rising one. One that felt older than my body.
Ardon noticed the shift. For the first time, he frowned slightly.
"You really do not know your place," he said.
He stepped back. His hand lowered toward his waist.
I blinked.
He had no sword at his side.
No weapon I could see.
Yet the room changed.
The air grew sharper.
Colder.
Still.
Ardon's eyes did not leave mine.
"Your anger is impressive," he said. "But anger cannot save you."
Something moved.
A flicker.
A glint of silver I barely registered.
A sound followed.
Clean.
Quiet.
Like a breath cut in half.
My body slumped.
My vision tilted sideways.
I did not understand at first.
Then I saw the world turning… the floor rising… the lanterns spinning…
And I realized my head was no longer attached to my body.
Ardon had cut it clean off.
I had not even seen the blade.
In my last seconds of sight, I saw his calm expression. His disappointment. His superiority. His absolute confidence that I could never reach his level.
Then everything dimmed.
The chamber faded.
The children.
The ropes.
The blood.
The cold stone.
Everything slipped away.
I fell backward into nothing.
The void opened again.
No sound.
No air.
No weight.
No body.
Only infinity.
Only the presence waiting for me.
"You return sooner each time," it said quietly.
I floated in the endless space. The shard in my chest pulsed once, bright and cold.
I had died again.