The guards outside swing the two doors open behind the princes with a thunderous crash. "The Supreme Commander is here!" one of the guards bellows, his voice echoing through the grand hall as Helios strides in.
"Your Highness," Helios says to the king, his voice dropping to a glacial chill. Nearby, Prince Edmund grits his teeth, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turn white, his eyes burning with palpable fury.
I don't want to be here with all these people, Helios thinks inwardly. He walks toward the table with practiced indifference and takes a seat on the princes' side. As Edmund stares at Helios, a gruesome memory flashes across his mind: a mountain of corpses piled high, bodies floating in a literal sea of blood. In the centre of the carnage sat Helios—his hair, a striking silver, and his eyes glowing a predatory red—looking down at the devastation from a throne.
Edmund begins to tremble uncontrollably. He stands up abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. "I will be going to my room," he mutters, his voice wavering.
Svetlana watches him, a sharp glint in her eyes. "Interesting," she whispers, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.
"Sit down, Edmund. We wouldn't want to seem rude to our guest," the king says. His voice is wrapped in a layer of fake gentleness that feels more like a threat than an invitation.
Edmund sinks back into his chair, his gaze fixed on Helios. That demonic tyrant isn't supposed to be alive right now. He was supposed to be dead, he thinks, a flicker of genuine terror surfacing in his eyes.
"Forgive my brother's rudeness, Commander Helios," Svetlana says, offering a slight, elegant bow of her head.
"It is quite alright. Every family has its... complications," Helios replies, his tone smooth, though he struggles to mask the biting sarcasm beneath the surface.
"Thank you for understanding," Svetlana says, returning to her meal with practiced poise.
Saville observes Helios with an intensely curious gaze. "Why didn't you bring your sister?" she asks. The king shifts his attention, fixing Helios with a heavy, penetrating stare.
"She couldn't make it today," Helios lies, his face a mask of calm.
"That's a shame. I would have liked to see her," Saville says, her smile appearing bright yet hollow. She leans forward slightly. "And what about that girl... what was her name? Sara, I think. Why didn't you bring her?"
Helios offers a stiff, artificial smile. "Princess, please eat before your food gets cold."
She talks too much, Helios thinks darkly. If I ever start a rebellion in the future, I'm killing her first.
He turns his attention to the king, his expression sharpening. "Why did you summon me so early in the morning, Your Highness?"
"Are you not going to finish your breakfast first?" the king asks without looking up from his plate.
"I have important matters to attend to today," Helios answers, his tone respectful but firm.
"In that case," the king begins, signaling a servant to bring over a leather-bound folder. He slides the document across the table toward Helios. "I summoned you for a mission in the Nether Principality."
Helios picks up the document and scans the contents. "A rebellion in the Nether Principality?" he reads aloud, his eyes tracking the lines of text.
"Yes. A rebellion. And I want everyone involved to be eliminated," the king states coldly.
"As you wish," Helios says, moving to stand.
"I haven't dismissed you yet," the king interrupts, his fake smile returning. Helios sighs internally and settles back into his seat.
He notices Edmund staring at him again. Why does this guy keep looking at me? "Do you need something, Prince?" Helios asks, meeting Edmund's gaze.
"No," Edmund snaps. Servants move in quickly, clearing the clutter from his side of the table with frantic efficiency.
"Maybe my brother just likes you," Lionel chimes in with a teasing smirk, though the joke falls flat in the tense atmosphere.
"Maybe you should just shut up," Edmund retorts, his voice dangerously low.
"You shut up, you useless coward!" Lionel snaps back, turning to glare at Edmund.
The two brothers descend into a heated argument, Lionel's voice rising in volume while Edmund grows increasingly caustic and sarcastic.
They talk too much. I feel a headache coming on, Helios thinks. His hands clench under the table, and the silver cutlery in his grip begins to warp and bend under his strength. I feel like shutting them up, but I can't physically attack royalty. Unless...
This will be my first time combining these skills: Tyrant's Pressure and Nightmare's Dream, Helios thinks. He subtly unleashes the abilities, targeting the two princes.
In a shared hallucination, Edmund and Lionel look down to see dark vines of roses erupting from the floorboards. The thorns tear into their skin as the vines coil around their limbs, blood weeping from the scratches as the roses begin to bloom a deep, visceral crimson.
"It hurts... there's a pressure... I feel like I'm going to die," Lionel gasps, the roses climbing his neck and squeezing his throat, their thorns digging deeper as he pales from the perceived blood loss.
"This ability... it has to be that Tyrant," Edmund wheezes, his face being masked by the thorny growth. "He's the only Seeker here with the guts to attack a royal. But he never had this power before... why does it hurt like hell?"
In reality, the two are simply sitting frozen at the table, gasping for air.
They might actually die if I keep this up. I should stop, Helios thinks, letting out a quiet sigh.
Don't worry, they won't die, Circlet's voice echoes inside Helios's head. Their family made a contract with 'that guy,' after all.
"That is enough," the king says, tapping a rhythmic beat on the table. The illusion shatters instantly. The princes slump in their chairs, clutching their chests and gasping for air.
"You should have left them like that a little longer," Svetlana remarks, elegantly setting down her fork.
"You two should just take this as a sign to be quiet," Saville adds with a teasing lilt, though the princes only glare at her with pure venom.
"I hope you go through the same pain I just did," Lionel growls, gritting his teeth as he tries to sit upright.
"Why me? I'm not the only one that said anything!" Saville exclaims, her voice tinged with frustration.
The king turns his full attention to Helios. "It seems you truly do possess a Primordial Artifact. Until now, only the other kings and I held them."
Tell him I'm the best Primordial Artifact, Circlet's voice demands arrogantly.
"He told me to tell you that he is the best artifact," Helios relays dryly.
The king pauses for a moment, listening to a voice only he can hear. "My artifact says it seems you have somehow gotten even dumber," the king replies.
I thought I was the only one who thought you were dumb, Helios thinks, mocking the spirit in his mind.
Tell him that at least I can freely choose my summoner! I don't have to serve one bloodline for the rest of eternity! Circlet snaps back.
"He says at least he can choose his summoner and doesn't have to work for one family for the rest of his life," Helios says, fighting back a smirk.
"My artifact says: at least I wasn't the last one to be created," the king counters.
Tell him that unlike him, I don't need a contract that forbids my summoners from using other artifacts just because he's insecure like a lower-ranking tool! Circlet mocks.
If you have nothing better to say, just give up, Circlet, Helios thinks. He stands up and begins walking toward the door.
Where are you going, human? I haven't finished talking yet! Circlet's voice echoes in his mind, sounding genuinely indignant.