Between the corridors and the long, branching hallways, silence enveloped the place. But reality was different—for within the shadows that passed by the guards, there were unseen figures that no one noticed.
The shadows moved soundlessly through the narrow alleys, gliding as if they were part of the night itself. No sound but the whisper of the wind playing with the edges of their dark cloaks. They were ghosts in the world of the living, their faces concealed beneath masks that reflected only mystery and danger. Their gleaming eyes pierced through the darkness, lurking, weighing every movement, reading every signal, as if the night had gifted them a sight beyond human limits.
They moved in a semi-circle, waiting for the signal. But among them, one was different from all the rest. He was neither the tallest nor the most imposing, but the aura surrounding him made the air heavier, as if his mere presence was enough to make hearts beat in an unnatural rhythm. He stood in the center, still, yet far from calm.
His eyes… they were what set him apart.
Narrow eyes, shifting between gold and copper, radiating a cold cruelty like serpents slithering through the sands. His gaze cut through the darkness like a blade through flesh—he did not need words to make those around him feel like mere pawns on a chessboard he controlled at will. A single glance from him was enough to stifle breaths, as if they feared an invisible serpent would coil around their throats should they dare to defy him.
Finally, they stopped at one of the guarded rooms.
The room where the youngest prince, Alexis, resided.
He spent most of his time there, immersed in his experiments with poisons and medicines. The masked figures knew what secrets the place held, so they did not need much thought. Even the guards standing there felt nothing…
No sound.
No sight.
Nothing.
What they did feel was their neck bones snapping swiftly, without a trace of pain. Their bodies fell into a deep sleep, while behind them stood a towering man.
At last, the laboratory doors opened to reveal what awaited them.
The room pulsed with a heavy silence, as if the walls, saturated with pungent scents, had devoured all sound. The air was thick with a strange mixture of rot and chemicals, its acrid scent enough to burn the throat with a single breath. Stainless steel tables stretched like the limbs of a metallic creature, upon them glass vials containing liquids ranging in color from dark green to yellowish-brown, some of them bubbling slowly.
In the corners, metal cabinets stood with half-open doors, revealing neatly arranged vials, each labeled with meticulous handwriting, bearing warnings written by someone who knew that a single mistake here could be the last. On one of the shelves, a pair of surgical gloves, stained with dark blotches, stood as silent witnesses to an experiment gone wrong.
The dim light from the hanging lamps cast flickering shadows on the walls, stained with marks one would be unwise to question. At the heart of the room lay an open leather-bound notebook, its pages filled with strange equations and violently scratched-out lines, as if the writer himself was uncertain whether he was creating a cure… or a weapon.
And the writer… was Alexis.
Seated in his chair, his pale body facing the book that had long accompanied him on his journey. A strange weight pressed on his chest, as if the air around him had thickened, suffocating. He was not truly asleep, nor was he fully awake—he drifted between the two states like a small boat in a raging sea.
Something was wrong… but his sluggish mind could not grasp it.
His eyelids wavered before parting. The faint light was the first thing he registered, followed by grim faces, staring eyes filled with murderous intent. He should have felt something… shivers, fear, even anger… but there was nothing.
His heart beat—slowly and steadily—as if he were watching a play that did not concern him.
Those eyes gazed at him coldly, as if he was unaware of the situation he was in, or perhaps as if he had already anticipated everything. Finally, he uttered the first word before anyone could move:
"A deal."
It was the only word that left his lips as he contemplated a solution to his predicament. He was not interested in them, but perhaps… he could make use of them.
"We did not come here to negotiate!" The largest among them moved to finish the task, but the serpent-eyed leader stopped him before he could act.
"I want to hear more of what he has to say."
Everyone remained silent whenever he spoke. He was trying to understand what went on in the mind of the man seated before him—to possess such confidence in facing them.
"It's always good to have people who think… Now, I'll say what I have."
Every word he spoke carried no trace of worry. As he talked, he was not looking at them—but at those vials.
"The deal is simple… Work for me and live. Try to attack me… and die."
"You little—" One of them tried to respond, but the leader silenced him. He understood the truth… that for someone weak to sit with such confidence before a group of men stronger than him, he must have had a plan.
"I will count to three… and I expect you to tell me who sent you to kill me."
One…
The birth of the first idea.
Two…
The masked figures moved with blinding speed, aiming to reach him.
Three.
One second—that was all it took for everything to end.
A sharp, piercing chime, like the air itself had been torn apart in an instant.
Then silence—heavy, but fleeting—before things began to fall to the ground… one after the other.
Wide eyes, frozen in their final moments of shock.
As for the bodies, they stood for a fleeting moment, hesitant between life and death, before collapsing slowly, as if their souls had left them before they even realized what had happened.
Idrik slowly wiped his sword, the edge dripping with the last remnants of human warmth, then lifted his gaze toward Alexis, who had been seconds away from death.
He said nothing… He did not need to.
As for the masked leader with the serpent-like eyes, whose name was Mount, he stood frozen, his feet rooted to the ground as if unseen tendrils had wrapped around them…
He knew that his fate was no longer his own.
Mount looked at the bodies scattered on the floor, then back at the sword still dripping with blood, and finally at the man who had ended his subordinates in an instant. Despite his extensive experience in battle, despite having witnessed countless fights, this scene was unlike anything he had encountered before.
This was not just killing… it was a merciless display of power.
Mount clenched his fists. He had lost. He no longer had a choice.
Lowering his head slightly in an unspoken surrender, he remained silent.
Alexis smiled in satisfaction, then turned back to his chair. He did not need to hear a verbal confirmation—silence was more telling than any admission.
Elsewhere, where no one noticed, someone was watching everything.
Edgar.
Standing in the shadows, far from everyone's sight, his eyes missed no detail.
He did not smile. He did not frown. He showed no visible reaction.
But he watched… and he understood.
His son, Alexis… was not as weak as some had thought.
And perhaps, just perhaps, he was far more dangerous than even Edgar himself had anticipated.
Edgar continued observing the scene, his sharp eyes capturing every detail, every movement, every pulse of tension in the air. He didn't need to intervene—at least not yet. He was more interested in seeing how things would unfold on their own.
Meanwhile, at the heart of the laboratory, Alexis sat once again, as if he hadn't been surrounded by a group of professional assassins just moments ago. He glanced at Mount for a brief moment before raising his hand, gesturing subtly toward Edrick.
"Take him away. Let him adjust to his new reality."
Edrick nodded silently, then stepped toward Mount, who made no attempt to resist. He didn't need a reminder that resistance was pointless now. As soon as Edrick grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him along, they disappeared into the shadows, leaving Alexis alone in his chamber, surrounded by the sharp scent of chemicals and the equipment that had witnessed countless mysterious experiments.
Alexis sighed, then reached out to pick up his leather notebook from the table. He opened it slowly, contemplating the equations and crossed-out lines filling the pages.
"The time is near..." he muttered under his breath, as if speaking more to himself than anyone else.
As for Edgar, he remained in place for a while before finally turning his back on the scene, retreating into the deep shadows of the corridors.
He didn't need to see more. He had understood what he wanted to understand.
Yet, in the depths of his mind, he couldn't deny the unfamiliar sensation creeping into his thoughts.
It wasn't concern, nor was it apprehension.
It was pure curiosity.
How far could this enigmatic son go...?
In the darkness that had begun to consume the palace halls, Edgar walked with quiet steps, heading toward his private quarters. His thoughts were intertwined, but they weren't chaotic—rather, they were structured, like chess pieces arranged on a board yet to be revealed.
"Alexis... it seems you have surpassed my expectations."
It wasn't praise, merely a cold observation from a man who had long seen everyone as potential tools in his schemes. And yet, this time, something felt different.
He paused for a moment in one of the corridors, gazing out of a window overlooking the palace gardens, where the moon cast its pale glow over the swaying trees. Then, he resumed walking, more determined than ever to observe things even more closely.
Elsewhere in the palace, someone found himself unable to close his eyes.
Valerian.
He sat in his room, staring at the ceiling, but his thoughts were far away.
That feeling... that presence he had sensed moments ago—it wasn't just an illusion.
It felt like he was being watched, but not with an ordinary gaze. It was a deep, piercing sensation, as if someone was weighing his every move, reading beyond his actions, testing him without uttering a single word.
Slowly, he clenched his fist, then closed his eyes.
"If they're watching me, then fine... I'll show them what they want to see."
A smirk tugged at his lips before he relaxed, surrendering to sleep—or at least, to something that resembled it.
And in a place far from prying eyes, in a hidden corner of the palace, Edgar stood one last time that night, leaning against the wall, his eyes half-closed as if savoring a moment of tranquility.
But the truth?
It wasn't tranquility.
It was anticipation.
For what was to come next.