The darkness of the cellar was absolute, save for a single, flickering torch that cast long, grotesque shadows against the damp stone walls. I tried to lift my head, but a searing pulse of pain radiated from my neck. My throat felt like it had been crushed by a vice.
I tried to shift my weight, but the familiar weight of my left arm was gone. There was only a jagged, empty space where the clockwork had been. I was back in a maid's dress, up torn, bloodstained, and mocking the identity I had tried to subvert. Every time I tried to flex my mana, a cold, biting sensation shot through my wrists.
I looked down. Heavy, obsidian-linked chains bound my one remaining hand and my ankles to the stone floor.
"Awake at last," a voice boomed, dripping with predatory satisfaction.
Dominik stepped into the light, looking pristine once more, his golden aura simmering just beneath his skin. Beside him stood Lara, her expression one of pure, haughty disgust. She leaned down, her face inches from mine, smelling of expensive lilies and medicinal herbs.
"You really thought you could save them? You gave those rats a taste of hope just so we could watch the despair burn brighter when we took it away. You didn't save anyone, little flea. You just made their deaths more entertaining." Lara hissed, a cruel smile twisting her lips.
But it was the third figure that commanded the room. Sitting on a simple wooden chair as if it were a throne was Bernard Callus. He wore the fine silks of a nobleman, but the crown atop his head was a gaudy, dull yellow, fake gold for a man whose power was built on stolen lives.
I tried to summon a shard of blood-steel, to pull the mana from the damp air, but my veins felt like they were filled with lead. I couldn't even spark a glow.
Dominik laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed in the small cell.
"Don't bother straining yourself, Roxy, Those are magic-dampening chains. They nullify your very soul any bits of your magic, including your blood manipulation. You're no hero here. You're just a one-armed girl in a ruined dress, waiting for us to decide how you'll die."
Bernard leaned forward, his eyes cold and hollow.
"You've cost me quite a bit of property tonight, girl. I think it's time we discuss how you're going to pay that debt back, in blood."
The metallic rattle of the chains echoed through the cellar as I strained against them, my muscles corded and shaking. I didn't need mana to feel the raw, burning desire to tear through the obsidian links, but the dampening stone was absolute. It was like trying to punch through a mountain with a broken hand.
The laughter that followed was cold and synchronized. Dominik, Lara, and Bernard stood in a semi-circle of mockery, their shadows stretching long across the floor. One by one, they spat toward me, small, insulting gestures that felt heavier than the blows I'd taken in the courtyard.
"Look at it squirm, The hero of the manor, reduced to a stray dog begging for a scrap of strength. Do you still think you're a hero, Roxy? Or are you finally realizing you're just a nuisance we've finally stepped on?" Lara sneered, leaning down to flick a speck of dirt off her sleeve.
"I'm going to kill you, Every last one of you. My friends are coming back. Mochi doesn't leave people behind."
I rasped, my voice sounding like broken glass. I looked up, my one green eye burning with a frantic light.
Dominik tilted his head, a cruel, pitying smirk spreading across his face.
"Roxy, you really are funny. You think that cat-boy and the tax collector are coming for you? They're gone. They betrayed you the moment they realized they could save their own skins. They left you here to rot like the refuse you are."
"You're lying, they will come back! They are my friends! My teammates! My comrades!"
Bernard's greedy face twisted into a sneer. He reached into the pocket of his silk vest and pulled something out, holding it between two fingers so it caught the dim torchlight. It was a small, cracked blue mana stone.
My heart stopped. It was the earpiece.
"Care to explain this, girl?" Bernard asked, his voice dripping with smugness.
Lara stepped forward, her voice a poisonous purr.
"I took the liberty of speaking into it while you were unconscious. I told your friends that the hero was dead, that you were nothing but a heap of cold meat in the dirt. And do you know what they said, Roxy?"
She leaned in, her eyes wide with malicious glee.
"They didn't cry. They didn't scream for vengeance. They told the others to disband the mission immediately. They turned their backs and left you alone, exactly where you belong. Like a piece of discarded trash."
The silence that followed was suffocating. I stared at the mana stone, waiting for it to crack, for Mochi's voice to come through and call it a lie, but it stayed silent. The weight of the chains suddenly felt ten times heavier.
The last bit of light in my mind, the hope that had kept me fighting even after my arm was shattered and my skull cracked, flickered and died. A single, hot tear traced a path through the grime on my cheek, falling onto the tattered fabric of my maid's dress.
I was alone. Truly, completely alone in the dark.
Dominik reached down and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"See? Even monsters are eventually abandoned by their kind. There's no one left to save you now."
The laughter of the three echoed off the damp stone walls, a chorus of cruelty that felt heavier than the obsidian chains. I lifted my head, my one remaining eye burning with a mix of despair and a flickering, cold rage.
"Why?" If I'm such a piece of trash, why am I still breathing? Why didn't you just finish it in the courtyard?"
Bernard Callus smoothed his silk lapels, his greedy eyes shining with a sickening sort of joy.
"Kill you? And miss the spectacle?" We want you to feel every second of your failure, Roxy. Normally, our public executions are a swift affair, a midday entertainment for the masses. But you… you caused far too much damage. My halls are in shambles, my guards are in pieces. We need a week to rebuild the stage so the whole city can watch the hero of the bureau hang."
He leaned in, his breath smelling of stale wine.
"Feel free to say thanks. You've just been granted seven more days of life."
"Seven days in this hole? You're just going to leave me here to rot in the dark?"
Dominik stepped forward, his heavy boots crunching on the grit of the cellar floor. He threw his head back, letting out a manic, booming laugh that made the shadows dance.
"Ding, ding! Correct, Roxy! You won't just rot. You'll starve. I've seen the way you fight, I know your secret. You don't just want blood, you crave it. It's your fuel, your drug, your sanity."
His expression shifted from laughter to a predatory grin.
"There is no blood here. Only dust and damp stone. We're going to watch your body wither while your mind screams for a single drop. We'll be back every day to mock your hunger, to remind you of the friends who forgot you, and to torture you for our own amusement. By the time we drag you to the gallows, you won't even be a girl anymore. You'll just be a hollow shell."
Lara leaned over his shoulder, her eyes cold as ice.
"A week is a long time to be alone with your thoughts, little flea. Enjoy the silence."
With a final, mocking sneer, the three of them turned and walked toward the heavy iron door. The torchlight retreated with them, leaving the cellar to be swallowed by an oppressive, suffocating blackness.
Clang.
The door slammed shut, and the bolt slid home with a heavy, final thud. I was left in the dark, my stomach already beginning to ache with a hollow, gnawing hunger that I knew would only get
In the silence, the only sound was the steady drip, drip, drip of water from the ceiling, and the echoing, ghostly memory of Mochi's apologies.