I feel empty. Hollow. Like something inside me has been scooped out, leaving only a writhing pit of guilt and rage. At this rate, I don't know how much longer I can keep myself sane.
And it's all because of him.
That infuriating face, still playing at innocence. Still pretending he's the victim, the one who deserves pity. My blood boils at the sheer audacity.
The wound he left hasn't healed. The flesh around it pulses, raw and unnatural, but I'm still standing—only because the domain won't let me fall. That cursed weapon he used...
Who forged such a thing? Was it truly made only to kill Luminara?
No. This was something far worse.
It didn't just pierce my body—it stabbed through something deeper, something I didn't even know was there. A part of me that wasn't mine, yet belonged to me all the same.
A wrongness slithers through my veins, creeping, twisting. The sensation is foreign, yet terrifyingly familiar.
What was that feeling?
***
Zareth flinched, his foot instinctively shifting back as a sharp, cold realization gripped his spine. Damn it. This was bad. No—worse than bad. He could see it in their eyes, the way they stood, the way the air itself coiled with unspoken intent. They weren't going to let him leave here alive.
His gaze flickered toward Kaia, who sat perched on the throne as if it was made for her—no, as if it had always belonged to her. That throne. That damned throne. That should have been his. It should have been him sitting there, looking down at them with the authority he was destined for. Instead, she sat there so casually, so unbothered, like all of this was nothing but a game.
Why?
Why did she keep giving him more reasons to hate her?
A dry, humorless chuckle rasped from his throat, curling into something venomous as he raised his hand. Luminara's power still surged through him, crackling, writhing, desperate to consume. It seethed beneath his skin, untamed, barely restrained. He could feel it, the raw energy, the maddening hunger.
"Heh…" His lips twisted into a smirk, bitter and sharp. "Then tell me, how the hell do you explain this?" His voice dripped with challenge, his fingers flexing as power spiraled around them, flickering in and out of existence like something alive. "If I'm not Halcyon, then what am I?"
Yona's voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and unwavering. "A human can't become a Halcyon." Her deadpan gaze locked onto his, void of sympathy, void of anything remotely human. "That's just another pathetic imitation of my power—your mother's desperate attempt to shield you when she knew you wouldn't survive on your own."
Her words sliced through him, but he didn't let it show. His fingers twitched, his stance tightened.
"Whatever it is…" His wings unfurled, his body brimming with tension, every muscle coiled tight like a bowstring on the verge of snapping. "I'm still far from done. My revenge—my suffering—it all started because of you."
"You're still blaming me?" Yona stepped forward, her expression unreadable.
"He's provoking you. Don't fall for it." Kaia's voice rang through the space, steady, unwavering. There was no anger in it, no irritation. Just a simple, undeniable command.
Zareth's pulse spiked.
That's it.
That's my chance.
His power surged down his arm, coiling, bristling, ready to strike. His wings snapped open as he lunged forward—fast, ruthless, unyielding. He would kill them. He would—
Pain.
White-hot. All-consuming.
His body jerked, halted mid-motion, a sudden stillness overtaking him like time itself had fractured.
His breath caught.
The light in his eyes flickered, the world twisting, distorting—because something was wrong. Something was horribly, horrifically wrong.
A wet, sickening squelch echoed through the chamber.
He hadn't even seen it coming.
A slender, grotesquely elongated arm had pierced straight through his torso, its pale flesh glistening with fresh, dripping blood. His blood.
His mind lagged behind the pain, struggling to process, to understand. One moment, he had been moving. The next—he was nothing but prey impaled in midair, caught like an insect on a needle.
A low growl vibrated behind him. Hot, humid breath ghosted over his skin, rancid and wet with hunger.
Something was breathing on him.
It was salivating.
Zareth's body dangled, limp, unresponsive. He could feel it now—no, he could feel them. The others. More of them. Lurking, creeping, slithering closer. He didn't need to turn around. He could feel their presence, their suffocating hunger pressing in from all sides.
A single glance toward Kaia.
She had risen from her throne, her steps slow, deliberate, almost… disinterested.
His breath hitched.
Will she stop them?
Will she save me?
The thought, unbidden, flickered through his mind like a dying ember.
Then, his gaze locked onto Yona.
She was already looking at him.
Her expression was frozen, horrified, stricken in a way that told him—even she hadn't expected this level of brutality.
But Kaia…
Kaia moved, her steps eerily fluid. Silent. Controlled. She stopped right behind her. There was no urgency in her movements, no hesitation, no pity.
She raised her hand, reached for Yona—
And gently covered her eyes.
Zareth's breath caught in his throat.
Kaia's gaze remained fixed on his.
Cold. Detached. Unforgiving.
Her lips parted, and she spoke—not to him, not in warning, not in mercy.
"It's going to be rough," she murmured, voice devoid of warmth, of feeling. "Better not to see it."
She never looked away.
The creatures obeyed.
They closed in.
Zareth felt his stomach drop, felt the weight of inevitability pressing down on him like a suffocating tide.
His heart pounded, a frantic, useless rhythm against the crushing silence.
"Huh?"
And then—
The darkness swallowed him whole.
***
The next thing Yona heard was a scream.
No—screams. Blood-chilling, raw, and agonized. Screams that didn't just echo in the air but sank into her bones, unravelling something deep and primal inside her. She had heard cries of pain before. She had heard Zareth scream when he was punished, back then, when the pain had been unbearable.
But this—
This was worse.
It was unexplainable, unnatural, something beyond mere suffering.
Yona's blood ran cold. The only warmth she could feel was Kaia's hand pressed gently over her eyes, shielding her from the horror before them. But even that warmth wasn't comforting. It was suffocating. Because the more the screams tore through the air, the more she realized—
Kaia wasn't flinching.
Was Kaia closing her eyes too?
The mere thought of the possibility of Kaia not closing her eyes and watching the scene so calmly made something in Yona crack, a fear far deeper than anything she had felt before.
Not fear of her wounds.Not fear of those monsters.Not even fear of herself.
It was Kaia.
Kaia, the girl everyone whispered about in the Apostle. The one they mocked for running from a mere B-level monster, the one who was too clumsy, too soft, too uncertain.
Was it really her?
These warm, gentle hands… were they truly Kaia's?
Or had that Kaia never existed in the first place?
Yona wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to tear herself away and run—run far away from whatever was happening behind Kaia's palm. But before she could, she heard it.
A whisper.
So quiet, so breathless, it barely existed at all.
"...more."
Yona's breath hitched.
Her eyes widened, her body stiffening in sheer terror.
She hadn't even realized she had been scratching at Kaia's hand. Her nails had dug deep enough to draw blood, crimson seeping between their fingers, warm and sticky. But Kaia didn't react. She didn't flinch. She only leaned forward, closing the distance between them until her weight rested against Yona's back, an eerie mimicry of a hug. A twisted gesture of comfort.
Yona's thoughts spiralled.
If Kaia could do this to Zareth—
Would she do it to me?
If I disobey her?
If I fail her?
If I—
The screams stopped.
The sudden silence was worse than the sound itself.
Because Yona knew what it meant.
Something wet dripped onto the floor. A heavy, sickening sound. Like meat being dropped onto stone.
Kaia's hand began to pull away from Yona's eyes, slow, deliberate, as if the nightmare had ended.
But Yona reacted before she could think—her fingers shot up, grabbing onto Kaia's wrist with trembling force, nails digging into flesh, holding on like a lifeline.
"Don't."
Her voice cracked.
"Please… I don't want to see."
She felt Kaia shift, leaning in close, warm breath brushing against her ear.
A whisper, steady, unbothered.
"Don't worry."
A pause.
"It's been taken care of."