The moment the glass door slid open, something in me snapped shut.
The air felt heavier, my body frozen in place as Bishop Vale stepped into the room.
Not Gregor Vale. Not the Guild Master of Redknot.
A Bishop of the Red Chalice Cult.
The truth sat in my mind like a sickness, crawling through the gaps in my memories, threading together the pieces I hadn't even realized were missing. The experiments. The whispers. The feeling of being reshaped into something I had never agreed to be.
I could still hear the voices from my past, fragmented and distorted, buried under layers of time and fear.
"She's adapting."
"Increase the dosage—no, don't stop, she can take it."
"A failure? No. A prototype. A foundation for something greater."
I clenched my fists, nails biting into my skin.
Bishop Vale took another step forward, casual, unhurried. He was savoring this.
"You have no idea what you are, do you?" he murmured. "No matter. It's in you. You are ours. You always have been."
