[Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence, torture, and disturbing imagery. Reader discretion is advised.]
Nero sat slumped in the chair, eyes shut, forcing his body to steady itself. His arms still burned from the screws, but he tried to drown the pain, to focus. Breathe. Focus. Break free.
The heavy door groaned open.
Nero's eyes snapped open.
Dorne entered first, carrying the rest of the strange materials. Behind him followed Anika and Calla.
Calla's eyes flicked across the room, widening slightly. "Wow. That's… a lot of blood." She turned to Dorne. "All his?"
Dorne's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Yeah. Every drop. Though… it looks like it multiplied."
His gaze fell to the torn jaw lying on the floor. He crouched, picked it up, and studied it. Then his eyes shifted back to Nero. "What's this? You regrew a jaw?" He touched Nero's chin, almost curious. "Interesting. Looks like it was never gone at all."
Nero said nothing. His stare burned back at him.
Dorne straightened. "I get you're pissed, Anika. But don't kill him. We need him alive if we want the King to take him."
Anika barely acknowledged him. She grabbed Tobin by the arm and dragged the boy across the stone, laying him at the center of the circle in front of Nero.
Nero's voice cracked, fear lacing through. "What are you going to do to him?"
Dorne tilted his head. "Nothing much… but you might not like it."
Anika began muttering under her breath—words twisted and foreign, sliding like oil across the air. Calla handed her the claw Dorne had brought. She brushed Tobin's hair back gently, murmuring, "Such a good boy. Always listened to Ilana."
Then Anika pressed the claw to his wrists and ankles. The sharp edge bit deep, arteries opened, blood spilling fast onto the circle.
Nero lurched forward against the bolts. "Sto—!"
Dorne's palm clamped over his mouth.
"Shhh," Dorne whispered near his ear. "Don't distract her."
Nero screamed into his hand, muffled and thrashing, the sound raw and guttural.
Dorne's voice dropped, calm and chilling. "You don't know this, but we saw it. We watched when the creatures dragged you into that castle. We saw what you did. How you erased it—castle, ground, everything. Left nothing behind but a crater." He leaned closer, his words a quiet confession. "We felt that chill from you. Worse than death itself. That's why we stayed away… until we thought it through. Two days. Two days of weighing the risk. In the end, I decided—I'd be the one to wake you."
Nero's eyes burned with fury, but Dorne's hand silenced him.
The chant cut off. Anika withdrew a syringe from her bag and drove it into Tobin's neck. She left the boy bleeding where he lay, crimson soaking into the stone.
Dorne finally pulled his hand away. Nero's scream tore through the room. "What have you done?! He's just a child! What did that boy ever do to you?!"
Calla stepped closer, her tone almost tender. "They didn't do anything. But we need them. To gain immortality… and the King's blessing."
Nero's voice broke, desperate. "Please… stop. They're innocent. They have futures. Let them go."
Calla smiled gently, eyes soft with mock pity. "Oh… you look so helpless like that. I almost feel bad. But you see… we don't want to die."
She bent down, pressed a kiss against his blood-smeared forehead, and ruffled his hair as if he were a child. "Try to keep the little ones calm… when they wake up, alright?"
Dorne snorted. "Let's go. His screaming is giving me a headache."
The three of them left, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. The lock clicked.
Nero was left alone again—bolted, trembling in the suffocating silence. The children's small bodies lay scattered across the floor, silent.
Nero stared at Tobin's small body sprawled before him, blood pooling across the floor. The crimson spread until it touched the edge of the circle, where faint red light flickered to life.
He thrashed against the screws, desperate to break free, but the circle drank in the blood until not a single drop remained. The floor was dry, as if nothing had happened—only Tobin's lifeless body lay in the center.
Tears blurred Nero's vision. His throat tightened.
"It's all my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Angelo's voice echoed through his mind, low and unwavering.
Yes. It's our fault this boy died. But you must break free—and save the rest.
Nero shook his head. "I can't… I don't think I can break these screws."
If you can't, then tear your arms and legs off. Freeze them, snap them like before. I've seen what you can do.
"That time I had control," Nero rasped. "Now? It hurts just to breathe."
Focus, Angelo pressed. For yourself. For the children still alive. For Grant.
Nero screamed and pulled with everything he had. Flesh ripped open, blood poured—but his body only regenerated, knitting him back together. He fell back in the chair, gasping, coughing blood. He tried again—arms and legs tearing, only to stitch themselves whole.
"It's not working," he panted. "I'm healing too fast."
Then snap it, Angelo urged. Just like before. Focus.
"I'm trying… but the pain won't let me."
Upstairs, the others carried on as if nothing had happened.
Jaren leaned back, a cup in hand. "So, you killed the soldiers?"
Thom drank from his own cup and shrugged. "One. Elias got the other. The last is still out there somewhere, searching for Nero."
Anika frowned. "If he comes back, he could be trouble."
"I'll keep watch," Thom muttered. "He won't last long if I spot him."
Dorne entered, arms folded. "Ilana's not back with CH yet?"
Jaren shook his head. "No. She's still searching."
"Damn old goat," Dorne clicked his tongue. "Where the hell did he run off to?" He glanced at Calla. "See anything?"
She peered out the window. "No movement. Nothing."
Anika stepped over Rhea's corpse with a wrinkle of disgust. "Can we throw her out already?"
Dorne smirked. "Be my guest."
"I'm not touching her. You do it. You snapped her neck."
Dorne turned to Jaren. "You, then."
Jaren nearly spat out his drink. "Hell no. Why should I clean up your mess?"
Dorne grinned. "Do it just this once. I'll owe you big."
"Oh no, not again," Jaren scoffed. "Last time you said that, I never got my favor back. And I'm the one who risked my ass bringing in the Hell Lizard's arm while the soldier was distracted."
With a huff, Dorne grabbed Rhea's body by the arms, muttering under his breath as he dragged her outside. He tossed her next to Kato's corpse, the body landing with a wet thud.
Reentering, he dusted his hands. "Out of your hair. Happy now?"
The group carried on, cooking dinner in Thom's blood-stained home as though it were any other night.
Hours passed before Anika rose. She moved downstairs, opened the door, and stepped into the dim basement.
Nero slouched in the chair, his gaze fixed on Tobin's drained, motionless body. He didn't even look at her when she entered.
She said nothing. She simply grabbed Tobin by the arm and dragged him away from the circle. Then, without hesitation, she hauled Nico and Mira forward, placing them in the center.
Nero begged her to stop, voice breaking. A shadow slithered out from Anika, curling around his face, sealing his mouth shut.
She began chanting again, that same unearthly language. The claw gleamed in her hand. She slit their wrists and ankles, precise as before, and blood spilled freely onto the circle. She drove the syringe into their necks, cold and methodical, leaving them to bleed.
The shadow ripped out Nero's throat, silencing his screams before sinking back into her form.
Anika turned without a word and went upstairs, shutting the door behind her.
Nero's body healed, but the scream clawed its way out anyway, wet and broken. His throat stitched itself back together as the sound echoed in the basement—raw, ragged, and useless.
He was left alone again, bound, bleeding, forced to watch as more children's lives slipped away before his eyes.