The symbol teased at his memory, simultaneously familiar and foreign. Something about it filled him with unease, a primal recognition of danger. And as he focused on it, he could almost hear a voice whispering from the darkest corners of his consciousness:
You're looking in the wrong direction, Kazuki. The enemy isn't out there. It's in here, with you. It's always been with you.
The voice was his own, and yet... not. The realization sent ice through his veins.
He wasn't alone in his mind. Something else was there, watching, waiting. And the barriers in his memory weren't keeping information out—they were keeping something in.
Dawn approached with agonizing slowness. Reina had not returned, and Kazuki's anxiety grew with each passing hour. The symbol from his memory had become clearer the more he focused on it, and he'd managed to scratch a rough approximation onto the stone wall using a loose pebble.
The double-faced mask atop the caduceus nagged at him. It reminded him of something from his fragmented memories of Japan—a theatrical mask, perhaps? A logo? He couldn't place it.
The sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. He quickly smudged out the drawing with his palm.
Two guards entered—not Valerius, to Kazuki's mild relief. They carried manacles and chains.
"Time to go, foreign devil," the taller guard grunted. "Captain's waiting."
Kazuki didn't resist as they fastened the heavy iron manacles around his wrists. The key Reina had given him pressed against his thigh through the fabric of his trousers, offering a slim hope.
They led him through stone corridors lit by torches, up narrow staircases that suggested they were ascending from a subterranean dungeon. Eventually, they emerged into a wide hallway with high, vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows depicting martial scenes—knights in battle, sieges, victories. The Castle Crystallis proper, Kazuki guessed.
The guards brought him to an oak door reinforced with iron bands. One knocked twice, and a gruff voice from within commanded them to enter.
The room beyond was spartanly furnished—a heavy table, several chairs, and implements arranged with meticulous precision on a smaller side table. Kazuki's stomach lurched as he recognized them for what they were: tools of torture, cleaned and polished to gleaming perfection.
Captain Valerius stood at the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. His expression was coldly satisfied, like a hunter who had finally cornered his prey.
"Secure him to the chair," he ordered the guards.
As they pushed Kazuki toward a heavy wooden chair fitted with restraints, the door opened again. Reina entered, her face pale with exhaustion but her bearing proud. She wore a different dress today—deep green with gold embroidery—and carried a large leather-bound tome.
"Captain," she acknowledged Valerius with a nod. "I trust you received the Archduke's latest instructions?"
Valerius frowned. "What instructions?"
"His Grace sent a messenger from the monastery at dawn. Given the nature of the transformations observed in the victims, he's ordered that the prisoner be given one final comprehensive magical examination before interrogation begins." She placed the heavy book on the table. "I have the necessary protocols here."
The captain's frown deepened. "I received no such message."