Shadows of Ascension

Kael’s pulse quickened as the figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking the narrow alleyway. The badge glinted faintly in the dim light, and Kael’s stomach twisted in recognition—this was an officer from the Council of Ascendancy. He didn’t need to see the insignia clearly to know that his luck had just run out.

For a moment, Kael’s instincts screamed at him to run, to slip into the darkness and lose the officer in the twisting alleys. But before he could react, another figure emerged from the shadows behind him, cutting off his retreat. Kael turned, eyes darting between the two figures, his hand instinctively reaching for the Shadowfang Dagger at his side.

“You don’t want to do that, kid,” the first officer said, his voice low and measured. He took a slow step forward, his hand resting casually on the hilt of a short, gleaming blade at his hip. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

Kael’s mind raced, weighing his options. He could try to fight, but he was outnumbered and outmatched. The Council didn’t send just anyone to deal with rogue soulbound users—they sent their best. Running wasn’t an option, either; the officers had already anticipated that move.

For a brief moment, Kael considered summoning the Dreitailen, letting the creature strike from the shadows and make a run for it. But he dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came. The officers would be prepared for that—they always were.

Slowly, reluctantly, Kael raised his hands, keeping them in plain sight. The officers exchanged a glance, and the first one nodded in satisfaction.

“Smart move,” the officer said. “Now, let’s have a chat.”

Without warning, the second officer stepped forward, producing a small, metallic device from his coat. Before Kael could react, the officer pressed the device against his neck. There was a sharp sting, and Kael felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. The world spun, his vision blurring as his legs gave out beneath him.

The last thing he saw before the darkness closed in was the officer’s face, a cold, calculating smile playing on his lips.

When Kael came to, his head was pounding, and the familiar scent of damp concrete filled his senses. He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind, but his body felt heavy, uncooperative. He was slumped in a metal chair, his hands bound behind him with a set of tight, cold restraints.

The room was dimly lit, the walls bare and made of reinforced steel. There was a single door on the far side of the room, guarded by another officer who stood at attention, his face unreadable.

Kael shifted slightly, testing the restraints. They didn’t budge. Panic flared in his chest, but he forced it down, focusing instead on his surroundings. He couldn’t afford to lose control, not now.

“Awake at last.”

The voice came from the corner of the room, low and almost mocking. Kael turned his head, eyes narrowing as a figure stepped into the light—a tall, slender man with sharp features and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore the dark uniform of a high-ranking Council officer, and his eyes gleamed with something that made Kael’s skin crawl.

“I was beginning to think you might sleep through our entire conversation,” the man continued, his tone casual. “That would have been unfortunate.”

Kael didn’t respond. He kept his expression neutral, though his mind was racing. This wasn’t a routine interrogation; this was something far more dangerous.

The officer took a step closer, studying Kael with an almost clinical interest. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Kael said, his voice rough from disuse.

The officer smiled faintly. “I’m Commander Harrow, in charge of special operations for the Council of Ascendancy. And you, Kael, are a rather interesting case.”

Harrow’s use of his name sent a chill down Kael’s spine. They knew who he was. They had been watching him, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“You’ve had quite an eventful day, haven’t you?” Harrow continued, his tone conversational. “Survived your first dungeon delve, acquired a rather… unique soulbound creature, and then managed to lie your way past our registration process. Impressive, really.”

Kael clenched his jaw, refusing to take the bait. Harrow’s words were designed to unnerve him, to make him slip up, and Kael wasn’t going to fall for it. He stayed silent, meeting Harrow’s gaze with a defiant glare.

Harrow sighed, shaking his head as if disappointed. “You know, Kael, this could go a lot easier for you if you just cooperate. The Council isn’t unreasonable. We simply want to understand what happened during your dungeon delve. What kind of creature did you bind to? And why did you lie about it?”

Kael stayed silent, his mind racing. He couldn’t tell them the truth—if they knew about the Dreitailen, it would be over. They would take him in, dissect the creature, and turn him into a pawn for their own ends. He needed to buy time, find some way to escape.

Harrow’s smile faded, his expression turning cold. “You’re not making this easy, Kael. But that’s alright. I’ve dealt with your kind before. The ones who think they can outsmart the Council. It never ends well for them.”

Harrow gestured to the officer by the door, who nodded and approached Kael, producing another device—this one larger, with a series of glowing symbols on its surface. The officer held it up, the symbols pulsing faintly in the dim light.

“This,” Harrow said, “is a Tier Scanner. It’s a bit more advanced than the standard model, and it’s designed to detect even the most elusive of creatures. Including Unique Rarity classifications.”

Kael’s heart sank. This was it—the end of the line. There was no way to avoid the scan, no way to hide the Dreitailen’s true nature. If they detected the creature’s rarity, everything would fall apart.

The officer pressed the scanner against Kael’s chest, and the device hummed softly as it activated. Kael felt a surge of panic, but he forced himself to stay still, to keep his breathing steady. He couldn’t let them see his fear.

The device emitted a series of sharp beeps, and Kael braced himself for the inevitable revelation. But then, something strange happened—the scanner’s beeping grew erratic, its lights flickering as if malfunctioning. Harrow frowned, glancing at the device with a look of irritation.

“What’s wrong with it?” he demanded.

The officer shook his head, adjusting the settings. “It’s… it’s not reading anything. It’s like the creature isn’t there.”

Harrow’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting back to Kael. “Interesting.”

Kael felt a flicker of hope—perhaps the Dreitailen’s shadowy nature was interfering with the scanner. If he could keep the creature hidden, he might still have a chance.

“Try again,” Harrow ordered, his voice cold.

The officer adjusted the scanner once more, pressing it harder against Kael’s chest. The device beeped, its lights flashing in a chaotic pattern, but once again, it failed to register the Dreitailen’s presence.

Harrow’s eyes darkened, his patience clearly wearing thin. He leaned in close, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Hiding your creature in the shadows, hoping we won’t find it. But you’re not the first to try something like this.”

Kael stayed silent, his mind racing for a way out of this situation. He could feel the Dreitailen stirring in his shadow, responding to his rising fear. He needed to keep the creature hidden, but the longer this interrogation went on, the harder it would be to maintain control.

Harrow straightened, his expression turning cold and calculating. “I have to admit, Kael, you’ve piqued my curiosity. A creature that can’t be detected by our scanners… that’s something worth investigating further.”

He turned to the officer by the door. “Prepare the holding cell. We’ll take him to the Citadel for a more thorough examination.”

Kael’s blood ran cold. The Citadel was the Council’s main headquarters, a place where they conducted experiments and interrogations on rogue soulbound users. If they took him there, it would be over. There would be no escape.

The officer nodded, leaving the room to make the arrangements. Harrow turned back to Kael, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“You’re in over your head, kid,” Harrow said softly. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure out what makes you so special.”

Kael felt a surge of anger, his fists clenching behind his back. He couldn’t let them take him to the Citadel. He had to find a way out, now.

As Harrow turned to leave, Kael took a deep breath, focusing inward on the bond with the Dreitailen. He needed to summon the creature, but in a way that wouldn’t be obvious. He closed his eyes, feeling the cold energy of the shadows coiling within him.

The Dreitailen stirred, responding to his call. Kael willed the creature to remain hidden, to stay in the shadows, but to act. He felt the connection deepen, the shadows around his feet shifting almost imperceptibly.

The door creaked open as the officer re-entered the room, and Kael felt the shadows ripple in response to the Dreitailen’s presence. Harrow glanced at the officer, who gave a brief nod.

“It’s ready, sir,” the officer said, his tone formal and stiff.

Harrow turned back to Kael, that cold smile never leaving his face. “I’m afraid your stubborn silence has left me with little choice, Kael. The Citadel’s methods are far less… accommodating.”

Kael’s stomach tightened, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. He had heard rumors of the Citadel—whispers among the street kids about what happened to those who were taken there. Most never came back, and those who did were changed, hollow shells of their former selves. The Council would stop at nothing to get the answers they wanted, and if Kael was taken there, he wouldn’t have a choice. They would drag the Dreitailen’s secrets out of him, one way or another.

Harrow gave a short nod to the officer, who approached Kael with a pair of iron restraints. They were heavier than the ones already binding his hands, and Kael knew what they were for—mana suppression cuffs, designed to cut off a soulbound user’s connection to their creature. If those were locked on, he wouldn’t be able to call on the Dreitailen for help.

“Stand up,” the officer ordered, his voice gruff.

Kael hesitated, weighing his options. The Dreitailen was already stirring in the shadows, but he couldn’t risk revealing it now, not in such a confined space. If he made a move, they would see through his act immediately, and he would be outmatched and overpowered in seconds.

He slowly pushed himself to his feet, the iron cuffs digging into his wrists as the officer moved to secure the new restraints. Harrow watched with an almost clinical interest, his eyes sharp and calculating.

“Cooperation now would be in your best interest,” Harrow said, his tone almost casual. “You’ve seen the Council’s methods. You know how things work. There’s no point in resisting.”

Kael stayed silent, his mind racing for an escape plan. The Dreitailen’s presence was still there, lurking in the shadows at his feet, waiting for a command. But he couldn’t afford to act rashly. He needed to be smart, to wait for the right moment.

The officer snapped the mana suppression cuffs onto Kael’s wrists, and he felt an immediate chill run through him as the connection to the Dreitailen was severed. It was like a part of him had been cut off, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Harrow’s smile widened slightly as he saw the reaction. “You see? Resistance is pointless.”

Kael gritted his teeth, fighting down the rising panic. He couldn’t let them take him to the Citadel. He had to find a way out, no matter the cost.

“Bring him,” Harrow ordered, his voice cold.

The officer grabbed Kael by the arm, his grip firm and unyielding. Kael considered fighting back, but the weight of the mana suppression cuffs left him feeling sluggish, disconnected from the power he had come to rely on. Without the Dreitailen, he was just an ordinary kid in over his head.

They led him out of the interrogation room and into a long, dimly lit corridor. The walls were lined with reinforced steel, the air thick with the scent of damp metal and disinfectant. Kael could hear the faint hum of machinery somewhere in the distance, and the steady echo of their footsteps as they marched down the hall.

As they walked, Kael’s mind raced, searching for any opportunity to escape. But the corridor was straight and narrow, with no side passages or hidden corners to slip into. The guards were vigilant, their eyes trained on him, and he knew that even the slightest misstep would be met with swift retribution.

They reached a large, reinforced door at the end of the corridor. Harrow stepped forward, pressing his hand to a panel on the wall. The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a dimly lit chamber beyond.

Inside, Kael could see several cells, each one lined with thick bars and reinforced walls. The air was cold, and the smell of damp stone and iron filled his nostrils. This wasn’t the Citadel—not yet. This was a holding area, a place to keep prisoners before they were transported to the Council’s main headquarters.

Harrow gestured for the guards to take Kael to one of the cells. As they dragged him forward, Kael’s pulse quickened. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t be thrown into a cell, left to wait for whatever horrors the Citadel had in store for him.

The guards opened the cell door and shoved him inside. Kael stumbled, catching himself on the cold, rough wall. He turned, but before he could make a move, the cell door slammed shut with a heavy clang, the sound echoing through the chamber.

Kael grabbed the bars, glaring at Harrow through the iron. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, his voice rough with anger.

Harrow raised an eyebrow, his smile returning. “I don’t think so, Kael. The Council doesn’t make mistakes.”

He turned to the guards. “Secure the area. No one is to approach the prisoner without my authorization.”

The guards nodded and took up positions by the door, their expressions blank and professional. Kael knew there would be no reasoning with them—they were loyal to the Council, and their orders were clear.

Harrow gave Kael one last, lingering look, as if savoring the moment. “We’ll be back soon to begin the real interrogation. I suggest you spend this time thinking about how cooperative you want to be. The Citadel isn’t known for its mercy.”

With that, he turned and left, the reinforced door sliding shut behind him. Kael was alone in the cell, the weight of the iron bars and the mana suppression cuffs pressing down on him like a physical burden.

He sank to the floor, his back against the cold wall, his thoughts racing. The connection to the Dreitailen was faint, barely there, but he could still feel it—distant, suppressed, but not entirely gone. He focused on that faint presence, trying to find some sense of calm in the chaos that surrounded him.

Kael didn’t know how long he sat there, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. The cold seeped into his bones, and the silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional shuffle of the guards outside his cell.

His mind kept returning to Harrow’s words, to the implications of what was coming. The Citadel was a place of fear and pain, a place where the Council’s interrogators broke people down, piece by piece, until there was nothing left. He had seen the results firsthand—people who had once been strong, proud, and defiant, reduced to hollow, obedient shells.

Kael refused to let that happen to him. He would find a way out, no matter what it took. But without the Dreitailen’s power, without access to the shadows he had come to rely on, he felt like a part of him had been stripped away.

As the hours passed, Kael forced himself to stay alert, his mind running through every possible scenario, every escape plan he could think of. But each one seemed more hopeless than the last. The guards were vigilant, the cell was secure, and the mana suppression cuffs left him feeling weak and disconnected from the creature that had become his greatest asset.

But even in the face of all that, Kael couldn’t afford to give in to despair. He had survived worse, and he would survive this, too.

Eventually, the door to the holding area creaked open, and Kael tensed, expecting to see Harrow returning with more guards, ready to drag him off to the Citadel. But instead, a lone figure stepped inside—a young woman in a plain uniform, her expression calm and composed.

She approached Kael’s cell, her eyes scanning him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Kael didn’t recognize her, but there was something about the way she carried herself that set her apart from the other guards.

“Who are you?” Kael asked, his voice rough from disuse.

The woman didn’t answer right away. She studied him for a moment, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure the guards weren’t listening.

“My name isn’t important,” she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What matters is that I’m here to help.”

Kael narrowed his eyes, suspicion gnawing at him. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t have a choice,” she replied, her tone blunt. “If you stay here, the Council will take you to the Citadel, and whatever secrets you’re hiding will be ripped out of you, piece by piece.”

Kael felt a chill run down his spine, but he kept his expression neutral. “And what’s your angle?”

The woman hesitated, glancing over her shoulder again. “Let’s just say… not everyone in the Council agrees with their methods. There are people who believe the system is broken, that it needs to change.”

Kael’s suspicion deepened, but there was something in her eyes—something that seemed almost desperate. He didn’t know if he could trust her, but he didn’t have any other options.

“What do you want me to do?” Kael asked, his voice low.

The woman took a deep breath. “I’m going to get you out of here. But you’ll need to trust me, and you’ll

You said:

Continue

ChatGPT said:

need to move quickly when I give the signal,” she whispered. Her eyes darted towards the door and back, the urgency in her voice unmistakable. “I can’t disable the cuffs yet, but I can distract the guards long enough for you to slip out. The rest will be up to you.”

Kael’s mind raced. He didn’t know who this woman was or what her true motives were, but she was offering a chance—a slim, risky chance at freedom. And with every passing second, the shadow of the Citadel loomed larger in his mind. He couldn’t let himself be taken there.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice low but sharp.

She glanced at him, her eyes hardening with resolve. “Because you’re not the first they’ve done this to. And if things keep going the way they are, you won’t be the last.”

Kael held her gaze for a moment, searching for any sign of deception. He didn’t see any, just a steely determination that mirrored his own. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. It wasn’t much, but it was the only option he had.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “What’s the plan?”

The woman reached into her pocket and produced a small, round device. It was barely the size of a coin, with a smooth metallic surface and a single button in the center. She held it up, her voice barely more than a breath.

“When I activate this, it’ll trigger a security alert in the main hall. The guards will have to respond, and it should give you a short window to slip out of your cell. There’s a maintenance access hatch behind the central console—it’s small, but it leads to the lower levels of the facility. From there, you’ll need to find your own way out.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “What about the cuffs?”

“I can’t remove them,” she admitted, frustration lacing her words. “But if you make it far enough, the signal will eventually weaken, and you should be able to reconnect with your creature. It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do.”

It wasn’t a perfect plan—far from it—but Kael didn’t have the luxury of time or alternatives. He nodded, bracing himself for whatever was about to happen.

The woman took a deep breath and pressed the button on the device. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, there was a faint, rhythmic beeping sound, followed by a sharp, mechanical click. The lights in the holding area flickered, and the guards outside the cell stiffened, their hands going to their weapons.

“System breach detected,” a cold, mechanical voice announced over the intercom. “All units, report to the main hall.”

The guards exchanged a brief look before one of them turned to the woman. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. “But if the system’s been compromised, we need to secure the main hall. Go. I’ll handle the prisoner.”

The guards hesitated for a moment, but the urgency of the alert won out. They nodded, rushing towards the door and disappearing into the corridor beyond. As soon as the door closed behind them, the woman turned to Kael, her expression intense.

“This is your chance,” she said. “Move, now.”

Kael didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the weight of the mana suppression cuffs, and rushed to the cell door. The woman pressed a series of buttons on the console, and the cell door slid open with a hiss.

“Down the hall,” she urged. “The hatch is behind the central console. Once you’re through, head for the service tunnels.”

Kael nodded, slipping out of the cell and into the dimly lit corridor. His heart pounded in his chest, his senses on high alert. He could feel the Dreitailen’s presence, faint and distant, but still there—like a slumbering beast waiting to be awakened.

He moved quickly, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of movement. The air was thick with tension, every sound amplified by the silence that hung over the holding area. The distant hum of machinery echoed through the walls, a constant reminder of the Citadel’s mechanical heart.

The central console was just ahead, a sleek, metallic structure with rows of glowing monitors and blinking lights. Kael reached it in seconds, his movements quick and deliberate. He knelt down, searching for the maintenance hatch the woman had mentioned.

“There,” he muttered to himself as he spotted the small, square panel set into the floor. He pried it open, revealing a narrow passage leading down into darkness. It wasn’t much of an escape route, but it was better than waiting to be dragged to the Citadel.

Kael glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting the guards to burst back into the corridor at any moment. But there was no sign of pursuit—yet.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come, and slipped into the hatch. The passage was cramped and dimly lit, the air cold and musty. Kael moved quickly, crawling through the narrow tunnel with the practiced agility of someone who had spent years navigating the forgotten corners of the city.

As he made his way deeper into the passage, he felt the weight of the mana suppression cuffs begin to lessen, the signal weakening the further he got from the holding area. The connection to the Dreitailen was still faint, but it was growing stronger, like a distant echo slowly coming into focus.

Kael’s muscles tensed as he pushed forward, his mind racing with the need to escape. He knew the Council wouldn’t let him go easily—they would hunt him down, track him through the city if they had to. But for now, he had the element of surprise on his side.

After what felt like an eternity, the passage opened into a larger tunnel—a service corridor, dimly lit by flickering emergency lights. Kael pulled himself out of the hatch and into the corridor, his body aching from the cramped space. He took a moment to catch his breath, scanning his surroundings.

The service corridor was narrow and lined with pipes and conduits, the air filled with the distant hum of machinery. It wasn’t a welcoming place, but it was his best shot at getting out of the facility unnoticed.

Kael focused inward, reaching out to the Dreitailen with his mind. The connection was still weak, but he could feel the creature responding, its presence stirring in the shadows around him. The mana suppression cuffs were still restricting his abilities, but with the signal weakening, he could at least reestablish a basic connection.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cold energy of the shadows coiling around him once more. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Alright,” Kael muttered to himself. “Time to get out of here.”

He moved quickly, his footsteps silent against the concrete floor. He kept to the shadows, avoiding the flickering pools of light as he navigated the service corridor. Every turn brought a new wave of tension, every creak and groan of the facility’s machinery setting his nerves on edge.

As he rounded a corner, he heard the distant sound of voices—guards, no doubt responding to the security breach. Kael’s heart pounded, and he pressed himself against the wall, waiting for the voices to pass.

He couldn’t afford to be caught now, not when he was so close to escaping.

The guards’ voices faded, and Kael continued down the corridor, moving with the practiced caution of someone used to slipping through the cracks of society. He didn’t know where the service tunnels would lead him, but anywhere was better than the Citadel.

As he approached another turn, Kael felt a faint ripple of movement in the shadows at his feet. The Dreitailen was there, still lurking in the darkness, its presence a constant reminder of the bond they shared.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He couldn’t afford to let his fear get the better of him. Not now.

Kael turned the corner—and froze.

A group of guards stood at the far end of the corridor, their weapons drawn and their eyes locked on him. The lead guard—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar running down the side of his face—raised his weapon, his expression hardening.

“Stop right there,” the guard barked, his voice sharp.

Kael’s mind raced, his instincts screaming at him to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there and wait to be captured. But the guards were too close, their weapons trained on him with the precision of trained enforcers.

There was no way out.

“Drop to your knees,” the lead guard ordered. “Now.”

Kael’s hands clenched into fists, the weight of the mana suppression cuffs pressing down on him like a physical burden. He felt the Dreitailen stir, responding to his rising fear, but he knew there was nothing the creature could do in this moment.

He was caught.

Slowly, reluctantly, Kael sank to his knees, his gaze never leaving the guards. The lead guard stepped forward, his weapon still trained on Kael, and two more guards moved in to secure him.

“Smart choice,” the lead guard muttered.

Kael stayed silent, his mind racing for a way out, but he knew there was no escape this time. They had him.

As the guards pulled him to his feet and led him away, Kael felt a cold sense of dread settle over him. He had come so close, but it hadn’t been enough. The Council had him now, and they wouldn’t let him go easily.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was the end of the line—if the Council would break him, drag the Dreitailen out into the open, and force him into their control. Every step down the corridor brought him closer to the inevitable confrontation, and the weight of his circumstances pressed down like an iron shackle.

Kael kept his eyes forward, his thoughts racing. The guards flanked him tightly on either side, weapons still drawn, their movements precise and practiced. There was no room for error. Every breath felt heavier as he was dragged deeper into the heart of the facility.

They passed several junctions, each one branching off into different sectors of the Council’s base of operations. The polished steel walls and the cold, unwelcoming lights overhead made the facility feel more like a cage than a military compound. Kael had never been this deep inside Council territory before, and he could sense how much control they held here. Escape from this place would be a monumental task.

But he couldn’t think of that now. He had to focus on the moment. On surviving.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, they stopped in front of another reinforced door. One of the guards keyed in a code, and the heavy metal slid open with a soft hiss. The room beyond was stark and cold, its walls bare except for a few recessed lights in the ceiling. In the center of the room was a single steel chair, bolted to the floor.

This was no ordinary cell. This was an interrogation room.

Kael’s throat tightened. They weren’t wasting time.

The lead guard shoved him forward, pushing him toward the chair with a grunt. Kael stumbled slightly but managed to catch himself before falling. His arms were still bound by the mana suppression cuffs, the cold iron biting into his skin with every movement. The connection to the Dreitailen remained severed, leaving him feeling weak and exposed.

"Sit," the guard growled.

Kael glanced at the chair, then back at the guard. For a brief moment, he considered fighting back—launching himself at the guards, using the element of surprise. But without his connection to the Dreitailen, without his abilities, it would be a futile effort. He knew that. They knew that.

So, he did as he was told. He sat.

The guards moved quickly, strapping him down to the chair with thick, reinforced restraints. The cold steel pressed into his wrists and ankles, securing him tightly in place. Kael gritted his teeth, fighting back the rising tide of panic. He had to stay calm. Losing control now would only make things worse.

Once he was fully restrained, the lead guard stepped back, his eyes scanning Kael with a mixture of disdain and disinterest.

"Commander Harrow will be here shortly," the guard said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I suggest you think long and hard about your answers when he arrives. This is your last chance to cooperate."

Kael didn’t respond. He stared straight ahead, his heart pounding in his chest. The guards left the room, their heavy boots echoing down the hall as the door slid shut behind them. The silence that followed was deafening.

Alone now, Kael’s thoughts raced. His mind kept circling back to the same question: How much do they know?

Harrow had made it clear that the Council suspected something unusual about his soulbound creature, but they hadn’t yet confirmed what it was. The malfunctioning scanner had bought him some time, but he knew that wouldn’t last. If they couldn’t detect the Dreitailen’s nature through technology, they would try other, more invasive methods.

His muscles tensed as the cold air of the room bit at his skin. He had to prepare for whatever came next.

The door slid open again, and this time, Commander Harrow stepped inside. His presence seemed to fill the room with a weight that was both physical and oppressive. His uniform was immaculate, and his eyes gleamed with that same unsettling mixture of curiosity and malice.

Kael’s stomach twisted as Harrow approached, a thin smile curling at the corners of his lips.

“Comfortable?” Harrow asked, his voice calm and smooth, like a predator circling its prey.

Kael didn’t answer, keeping his expression neutral. He knew Harrow was trying to rattle him, to draw out a reaction, but Kael wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Harrow took a step closer, his eyes scanning Kael’s restrained form with a clinical detachment. “I have to admit, I’m impressed by your resilience. Most people would have broken by now. But you… you’re something else, aren’t you?”

Kael said nothing, his jaw clenched.

Harrow’s smile widened.