"You know what this means, don't you?" Gunther spoke in a low tone, slowly reaching over to pull his eyepatch back, once again hiding the glowing sphere of his left eye. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lieutenant."
"I've been waiting for this moment for seven long years..." Pengal exhaled. "I know exactly what that boy means. But I only planned to cling to him until I was sure my goal could be achieved... now, I have no more reason to interact with him. I've already played with too many fires."
"Heh, is that right? You dip your fingertips in an infinitely deep pool and call it a day. You really are quite the conniving scumbag." Gunther stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. "...But I suppose this isn't a matter the Unity Department can simply avoid."
"I know," Pengal nodded. "...There's no use putting in a bad word for me. My recognition for this matter is almost guaranteed. But before you head back, won't you share the results of your analysis? My right eye can only see half of the bigger picture, after all."
"Hmph, fine..." Gunther sighed, bringing a finger up to his temple. "What I saw... the boy slowed down the universal flow of time. It was a factor of change of two hundred thousand... meaning for him," Gunther raised a finger, "one real-world second became two hundred thousand seconds. To add another layer of complexity to the matter, the boy managed to rewind his personal temporal state, practically reversing all the damage done to his body."
"What?" Pengal was left absolutely shocked. He knew Ansel had the ability to slow down the flow of time—'...but reversing it?' Pengal hid his dazed expression. "I wonder what the true nature of his ability is. There could potentially be even more left untapped."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Gunther warned, staring down at the battleground as the cloud of dust finally dispersed. "It's safer to walk along the edge of a pool. Accidentally slip in, and you may very well drown."
"Are you saying I can't swim?" Pengal smirked.
"Not in a pool that deep. No, you can't."
* * *
Cerua, Rotteger, and Sven stopped in their tracks. The figure standing in front of them was unrecognizable. Ansel, who had been brutalized and beaten to a pulp by Dominic, was standing before them—unscathed.
Sven was the first to speak, his icy mist already retracting back into the cracked skin of his left hand. "How... how are you still standing? And how are you undamaged? Did you... use your ability?"
"Stop asking him questions!" Rotteger angrily shouted, already rushing forward like a jet with his arms open wide. He wrapped around Ansel like a koala before the other boy had even a second to properly react. "You're okay!" Rotteger theatrically wept. "Thank God!"
"Oh, I—" Ansel awkwardly grimaced, shuffling around as he attempted to manually peel Rotteger away from him. After Rotteger's constriction stopped, he gave a relieved smile. "Yeah, I'm okay... and I even managed to use my ability."
Cerua was turned away, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks as the tips of her ears tinted red. Softly sniffling one final time, she let out a long breath and turned to face Ansel. "So..." she smiled, unsure of what to say. She cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Your broken chord. Do you know what it is?"
"Yes," Ansel nodded. "I think I have a broken chord of temporality."
Ansel, Rotteger, and Cerua all went silent at the same time, their faces contorted with disbelief. There were many Agni Chords that bound the mortal vessel to reality—but three specific chords blazed brighter than all the others combined: the three Unbreakable Chords—the foundation of not only humanity, but the very universe and all life inhabiting it as well.
No recorded person in the history of the infinite sky had been gifted with a broken 'unbreakable chord'. It was impossible. Yet, Ansel was claiming to have done the impossible. No—he was claiming to be an impossible being. The proclamation would have sounded absurd coming from any other person. But it was Ansel saying it, and for some reason, they believed him without question.
Turning his gaze away from his stuttering friends, Ansel noticed the crumpled Dominic, sobbing against the sidelines. He looked utterly defeated—an astonishingly different sight from the confident boy who had met his gaze head-on at the start of the duel. It was true—this day had changed both of them irreversibly.
Watching Dominic cry, Ansel couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt. 'What reason does he have for hating me so much? Did he really ask to duel of his own volition?' Furrowing his brow, Ansel decided to take a step backward. 'Now's not the time to confront him... I should leave him be.'
* * *
Dominic's sobbing had only ceased a few moments ago. His cheeks felt moist, but his eyes were eerily dry. He had heard Pengal's cheer at the end of the match, and his brain was wracking with contradicting thoughts. He had nobody else to turn to.
Dominic's hand pressed hard against the arena wall as he slowly eased himself upward. His body was wrought with pain, but only one thought crossed his mind: 'I have to talk with the Lieutenant...' He stumbled step after step, ignoring the concerned looks of the crowd as he slowly chased after the disappearing image of Pengal, who was swallowed whole by the deluge of bodies.
Dominic trailed Pengal through the main building—which was unusually empty—trying to keep pace despite the pain radiating across his body. And then, in the center of the lobby, Pengal froze. He stood perfectly still, his face obscured in the darkness. Night had already descended. "Why are you following me?"
"I'm sorry," Dominic gasped, slinging an arm across his abdomen and stepping forward. His voice sounded desperate and broken. "I—I'm sorry, Lieutenant... just please," tears began to well in his eyes, "...please just give me another chance. I'll kill him, I promise..."
"No," Pengal spoke firmly. "You will not get a second chance." He turned around, an unreadable expression on his face. "You've already done your job perfectly. You'll get your reward in due time."
"Huh?" Dominic raised an eyebrow. "...What do you mean? I failed to kill him! He beat me with a single touch! I lost pathetically!" He was now shouting, unable to hold back. "What do you mean I've done my job!?" Then, realizing he was getting ahead of himself, Dominic quieted down. His heaving breaths grew softer as he asked a last—almost silent—hopeful question: "Will I... see her again?"
"You will get to visit the capital," Pengal nodded. "But I'm afraid seeing Clara Labouchere again is not possible. She is currently incarcerated, awaiting an incoming execution in July. Her visiting period has passed. The only time you will be able to see her again is on the date of her execution, and I doubt my timeframe will allow—"
"What the hell did you say?" Dominic's eyes widened with a sheer, genuine fury he had never felt before. "Did you say... she's going to be executed?" Dominic's fingers began to twitch as his head slumped down. "...So, you lied?"
"I never made a promise to reunite you with Mrs. Labouchere." Pengal narrowed his gaze. "I only said I would take you to the capital when everything was in order. And now, with Ansel's abilities finally realized, my promotion is already imminent. I'm sure the High Unity Council will be glad to abide with such a meager request as boosting me up into Squad Zero."
"...You used me." Dominic felt his entire world being upturned. What lurked in his heart wasn't a feeling as simple as 'anger' or 'fear'. It was an impossibly bitter whirlpool of deep-seated resentment, dread, and the urge to kill. There was no doubt about it in Dominic's mind. He seethed, "I'LL KILL YOU!"
Dominic lunged forward, ignoring the tearing of his muscles as he aimed a strike at Pengal's face. However, Pengal's expression remained unchanged—as if he had calculated this very moment. Then, the chilly voice of a woman spoke up.
"Nightmare. Bottomless pit."
Dominic's lunge was cut short. He flopped onto the ground with trembling forearms, suppressing the urge to retch. It felt as if he were falling down an infinite hole with no end in sight. His body felt weightless, but he knew he was grounded. The sheer alienness of the sensation ushered in a sense of inherent fear.
"Are you afraid of falling, Dominic?" The woman's voice spoke from behind him. The sound of footsteps followed. Iseul Lim slowly approached the trembling boy, reaching out her slender fingers and pressing her index against Dominic's neck. "Nightshade Style. Non-lethal pinpoint touch."
As the words left Iseul's mouth, a choked sound escaped from Dominic's lips. His body was shoved across the ground for several meters, his neck craned at an uncomfortable angle. He came to a halt, drooling profusely from his mouth with eyes rolled back. He was unconscious.
"Iseul Lim, the banished lady." Pengal smiled, tilting his head to the side. "You know, I was addressing that first question to you." Pengal watched as Iseul narrowed her gaze at him. She was an easily discernible figure to a simple man. The sheer beauty of her figure alone could give away her true identity.
"The way you speak to me makes me assume that you're already well aware of the fact that I was Board Member Four." Iseul placed her hands on her hips. "I won't ask you how you found out. I don't know what perverted thoughts you have hidden deep within that factory of deceit you call a brain. I know you aren't a man of your word, Pengal Shimerone, so I'll give you a choice—"
"Fine, fine, whatever." Pengal let out an exaggerated sigh, waving his hand in dismissal as he turned around, seemingly tired of the conversation. "You'll get your favor paid back once I get promoted."
"This isn't a favor for the board." Iseul stepped forward. "Most of the board has been indisposed as of now. All I want from you is to lend me Ansel Einchalle. He looks up to you as a mentor figure, does he not? Allow me to take him to the capital."
"Hehe," Pengal chuckled. "...Do you miss your family that much? The family that tossed you out into the dumpster of Farrah simply because of your fate?" He shook his head. "The boy's his own person... so I don't know if I can convince him. But I will try." Pengal started to walk away once more, but then—he stopped in his tracks. "But... do tell me: how did you get the board to comply with your greediness?"
"Well... I just convinced them a little." Iseul smirked, bringing a finger to her cheek.
"Heheh, I see." Pengal stroked his chin in thought. "I might go pay a visit to The Great Dome. It will be quite an entertaining sight seeing all the esteemed members of the board writhing around, reliving their worst nightmares."
"Well, not all of them..." Iseul frowned. "Board Director Six agreed to my proposal without question. I tried to use my ability on her, but..."
Pengal raised an eyebrow.
"That girl... she's never had a nightmare before."