The blaring alarm pierced through every corridor of NEUS, its shrill tone echoing across the facility like a call to arms. Red warning lights flashed in rhythmic pulses, bathing the long halls in a harsh crimson hue.
Outside the containment ward, soldiers immediately sprang into motion. Boots thundered against the metal floors as security teams assembled in formation, rifles and shock batons in hand. The air filled with clipped commands and the rustle of gear being fastened in haste.
Inside the command center, Alice's voice cut through the chaos. "Lock all entrances! I want visual feeds on every corridor now!" she ordered.
"Secure all sectors, leave no room for escape!" she added, eyes fixed on the flickering monitors.
"Yes, ma'am!" the operator on the consoles responded, their fingers flying across keyboards as multiple security screens came alive with live footage of the containment ward.
"A report just came in!" one of the operators called out. "They say the Warden is still inside, he's engaging the Bearer!'
Alice's eyes narrowed. "Tell them to hold position outside the containment ward," she ordered. "No one goes in until the Warden say so."
Back at Demurc, more and more shards of crystal shot toward him, yet none found their mark. Each one shattered harmlessly against his chains as he deflected them with effortless precision.
Cynthia's face twisted with fury, her brows drawn tight, teeth bared in frustration. With a sharp cry, she lunged forward, spear in hand, the air cracking around her from the force of her dash.
Before she could reach him, Demurc's chains whipped through the air, coiling around the spear's shaft. With a powerful jerk, he wrenched it free from her grasp and flung it aside, the weapon slamming into the wall with a resounding clang.
With her weapon gone, Cynthia leaped back, boots scraping against the floor as she halted her momentum.
"Tch!" She clicked her tongue in irritation, her eyes darting toward cell 1A, where a pair of wide, curious eyes peeked through the reinforced glass, watching as their fight unfold.
"Stop this, Cynthia," Demurc said, his voice calm. "It's pointless."
"Shut up!" Cynthia roared, sprinting toward cell 1A. Shards of crystal burst from her fingertips, one of them striking the reinforced door with a deafening crack. The glass splintered, and the lock gave way under the force.
Demurc's eyes widened as realization hit him, she was after Cecile. He moved to intercept, but Cynthia unleashed another barrage of crystal shards, forcing him to shield himself with his chains before he could close the distance.
As the door shattered, a low hiss of air filled the cell. Cecile sat calmly on her cot, eyes gleaming through the dust.
"Hi~," she greeted with a lazy grin, as if she'd been expecting company.
Cynthia forced a strained smile, her chest heaving. "Why don't you help me take the Warden out? We can both get out of here, don't you want that?" she urged, voice trembling between hope and anger.
"Hmmm… I'll think about it," Cecile teased, her tone light, almost mocking.
A vein throbbed on Cynthia's temple. "What do you mean think about it?! Hurry and help me!" she shouted, frustration spilling over.
"Eh, I kinda like it in here though," Cecile replied, hand covering her mouth as she let out a playful chuckle.
"Stop joking with me!" Cynthia snapped, a new crystalline spear forming in her grasp, its sharp edges glinting with fury.
"Oh my, I'm just joking. Jeez, why are you so angry?" Cecile's voice carried an infuriating calmness that pushed Cynthia past her limit.
"I'm gonna ask you one last time, will you help or not?!" Cynthia said, her voice high.
"Eh I don't really want to." Cecile said, her eyes drifting behind Cynthia's back.
With a furious scream, Cynthia thrust her spear toward Cecile, but before it could land, chains whipped through the air. Demurc closed the distance in an instant, his chains coiling around Cynthia's body like serpents.
"Enough," his voice was low and firm.
"Aggh! Let go of me!" Cynthia yelled, thrashing against the chains as crystal shards formed and shattered around her in panic.
Cynthia struggled, the crystals on her skin flickering erratically before the chains tightened. Her scream echoed once, then faded as her body went limp.
As Demurc lowered Cynthia's unconscious body to the floor, the soldiers finally burst into the containment ward, their weapons raised and eyes scanning the room.
Demurc turned toward Cell 1A, Cecile was standing there, waving cheerfully as if the chaos had nothing to do with her.
"Hi, Warden," she greeted with a grin, her tone light
"It seems like you had no intention of helping her. Why?" Demurc asked, his tone calm but edged with suspicion.
"Eh? Why would I?" Cecile replied, tilting her head slightly. "I'm starting to get accustomed to this place. Besides" a small, playful curve formed on her lips, "aren't you here to keep me company?"
Demurc knew he wouldn't get a serious answer from Cecile, so he ordered her transfer to another cell, given that Cell 1A was now destroyed.
Meanwhile, the soldiers carried Cynthia's unconscious body away, their boots echoing through the corridor. Moments later, a repair crew entered the containment ward, working swiftly to mend the shattered walls and embedded crystals that marked the chaos left behind. Repairing all the damages that had been done as well as making improvements considering how it easily got shattered.
"Good work," Demurc said to the personnel before turning away. He made his way back to his office to file a report on the incident, updating Cynthia's record and noting every detail of her display of power.
"I didn't feel anything during the fight with Cynthia… yet she turned violent," Demurc muttered, a quiet sigh escaping him. "What could it possibly be? her records showed nothing but clean."
After completing the paperwork, Demurc leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a brief moment of rest. All that was left now was to wait for the report that Cynthia had regained consciousness.
Somewhere within NEUS, a sign above a reinforced door read "Isolation Cell."
Inside, Cynthia sat motionless in the enclosed room, still unconscious. A restraint suit bound her tightly, additional straps securing her to the chair at the center of the cell.