He looked at him with a chilling expression, as if trying to hammer the cruel reality into his skull. Aren measured his words carefully before letting out a slow smile.
"Interesting. My appointed lawyer declared me guilty at our very first meeting…"
"With the evidence right in front of us, is there any point in lying to each other?"
"Are you talking about the so-called evidence that only points to me indirectly?"
"If you're not guilty, then why did you attack the soldiers of Avalon and Aegis?"
The air between them crackled with tension as Aren leaned forward, resting his arms on the table just like his opponent. Their eyes locked in a fierce contest of will. Neither of them looked ready to yield.
"Are you referring to those idiots who opened fire on me without hesitation, just because some lunatic pointed a finger at me?"
His voice was low, mocking, dripping with contempt. A short silence followed. Then Ryan exhaled, leaned back, and sank into his chair.
"No one drags things out quite like you."
By now, Aren was certain. After countless interrogations and repeated attempts by his lawyer to force a confession, he had finally understood what they wanted—to send him to IMFA.
If he had managed to escape during the incident, he would have gone into hiding until things settled down and then acted accordingly.
But since he had been captured, being sent to IMFA was inevitable. From the moment he woke up in this world, in this body, he had been imprisoned.
He hadn't even seen the light of day, and now his future was uncertain. The only option left to him was to carve out his own path inside IMFA.
Even so, he couldn't understand why these people were so insistent on sending him there. After all, there was another option—the Bone City. The Bone City was where the unwanted and outcasts of society were exiled.
Sending criminals there wasn't new, and yet from the beginning, their goal had been to throw him into IMFA. That was what sharpened Aren's suspicions."Well, if you can't avoid it, then you have to face it."
When the cell door finally screeched open, he cracked his eyes open. As the guard gestured for him to step out, he loosened his stiff muscles and rose to his feet. Cold cuffs of tianum metal locked around his wrists, instantly cutting off the flow of ether through his body.
In this world, ether was as vital as breathing—it was the source of all special powers. Those who mastered ether and learned to channel it rose through the ranks of Nyx, climbing toward the pinnacle of power.
And the only thing capable of restricting such power was the rare metal known as tianum. That was the very thing preventing his escape. Cells and shackles made of tianum cut off the ether within the body, sealing away the abilities of Nyx and rendering them powerless.
"Move!"
Shoved from behind, he started walking, surrounded by four guards—two at his sides, one in front, one behind. As he marched through the dark, suffocating corridors, he noticed the stares of other inmates from their cells—malicious, pitying, or even gleeful.
Amid the mocking jeers and echoing footsteps, they reached the end of the corridor and stepped onto a wide circular platform. One of the guards approached the console fixed to the central pillar and pressed several keys.
Aren watched in silence as the platform began to rise. As it ascended, he caught glimpses of different floors, each filled with criminals categorized by the severity of their crimes.
"Shouldn't the kid be sent straight to IMFA?" one of the guards muttered, his tone weary. All eyes from the nearby cells flicked toward him.
"Until the trial is held, prisoners must remain here in the temporary prison. That's the rule."
"This is complete nonsense! These bastards commit the vilest crimes, yet still get such rights? They should slit their throats the moment they're caught!"
The guard's gaze burned into the back of Aren's skull like a knife, filled with loathing and the urge to kill.
"Even criminals are still protected by basic human rights," another guard replied with indifference, shrugging.
"Human rights? For filth like him? He murdered his own father and the guests at his father's estate. Talking about rights for a monster like this is idiocy!"
"That's not for us to decide," the other answered coldly. "Besides… Madam Beryl herself demanded that the investigation be conducted fairly."
Aren's eyebrow twitched.
His mother? Was that in the novel? I couldn't remember. As far as I knew, Beryl had never shown any particular attachment to Aren.
"After today's trial, he'll be convicted anyway and sent to IMFA. This is nothing more than a formality."
"You're right." When the guard who had cursed at him earlier spoke, the cheerful tone in his voice was obvious, even without looking at him. "I've heard that trying to survive in IMFA is worse than death itself. A bastard like him belongs there perfectly."
Go to hell, you bastard!
Aren rolled his eyes, enduring the guard's grating laughter until the platform finally halted. His ears still rang with the man's shrill, obnoxious voice, and he burned with the desire to rip out his tongue.
At last, the platform stopped at their destination, revealing a massive white bridge before them. The mocking guard shoved him forward, forcing him to step onto the glowing structure. It stretched on endlessly through the void, their footsteps echoing as if in a bottomless abyss.
When they reached the end, two wardens emerged from the darkness to greet them. Their lower halves dissolved into the void, while their upper bodies stood stationed by the giant gates. With dry, pale skin like bleached parchment and no faces at all, they looked less human than alien.
"Prisoner number 257, Aren Rayne. Age: 14. Crime: Murder of his blood relative, Redian Rayne, and the guests present at the Rayne estate—Hugo Craik, Melissa Odel, and Ryan Fewer. One of humanity's greatest crimes: murder."