Chains Beneath the Skin
His fingers eased downward. The air settled as he let go.
"I don't look down on you," he said evenly. "I'm simply trying to understand you."
Footsteps dragged through splintered planks, then silence swallowed the space between him and the collapsed figure. Grit spun in golden light, air thick, walls still.
"You've been shackled. Not physically. Internally."
Confusion sparked in Eon's dark stare. Up and down went his breath, thick with struggle - pride clashing against hurt. Power held the south part of Fantom City, nothing else needed. Spells never helped. Tricks played no role. Fists did it. Bones sealed it.
A hush fell as Victor bent lower, gaze locked. Not laughter lit his gold-flecked eyes - just a quiet wonder, sharp and still.
"Tell me," he murmured. "Who cursed you?"
A silence followed. The room waited.
Yet he didn't reply right away. Victor shifted his gaze upward, then spoke more quietly
"Hey you. You're the Ox King, Eon… correct?"
