Meanwhile, back at the academy, deep underground...
"P-Please... B-Believe... me... I... I..."
Clanngg, Clang
Drip, Drip
A broken voice echoed through the dimly lit chamber, blending with the harsh clanking of chains and the steady drip of blood onto the cold stone floor.
Dora stood motionless, her gaze fixed on Alaric's pitiful state. He was broken... No, she had broken him—far too much.
And yet, even now, after everything, he kept repeating those same words over and over, like a shattered record stuck on its final note.
No matter how much she tortured him, no matter how many bones she shattered, he stubbornly clung to those words as if they were the only truth that existed in his world.
'Fuck!' Dora screamed inwardly, her frustration boiling over. Aether had never explicitly told her to let her guard down, and yet, as she looked at Alaric now—his torn, bleeding form barely hanging onto consciousness—doubt gnawed at her.
What if he was telling the truth?
