Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Léonard massaged his temples, the weight of the information he had gathered evident on his face. He looked at the woman and said in Latin, "Me paenitet, domina, sed necesse est ut abeamus." ("I'm sorry, madam, but we must leave.")

She smiled warmly and replied, "Semper domum meam recipiamini, vos enim filium meum servavistis." ("You will always be welcome in my home; you saved my son.")

Léonard nodded, a faint trace of gratitude in his expression, before stepping outside with his small team. As they moved into the shadow of the forest, he constantly checked their surroundings to ensure no one was following them. Once they were deep enough within the woods, he stopped and turned back toward the trees.

"All right, guys, show yourselves. We've gathered a lot of information."

From the shadows, several operators emerged one by one, blending into the group now surrounding Léonard. He gave a subtle nod to one of the operators who had accompanied him in the house. The operator stepped forward, pulling out a small notebook.

"I've written down everything we gathered," he said, flipping through the pages. The group leaned in closer, their faces illuminated by the faint glimmer of a portable light device as they prepared to analyze the data together.

Léonard gestured toward the operator. "Give the presentation," he said. The operator nodded, stepped forward, and began:

"First of all, I want to confirm that we are in an extra-dimensional space. This place is called Univer'Isle, a nexus that once inhabited the skies of our universe but was expelled by the Catholic Church around the 17th century. The inhabitants, known as the Isleens, live under an absolute monarchy with a religious presence as oppressive as in medieval Europe.

Their monarch, Adrian V, governs the kingdom in a 'tyrannical' manner. The architectural style here is predominantly baroque, but most houses in what I would classify as the 'countryside' are made of wood. The kingdom is divided into three main factions.

First, we have the noble faction, which controls the cities, duchies, counties, and other territories through their city guards, mercenaries, and private bodyguards. They also dominate the economy and are known for hosting grandiose feasts to display their wealth.

Next is the army faction, which oversees all the kingdom's military forces. It's likely that they're the ones we've been fighting so far. They are led by General Griamore. Points of interest related to them include the Val-Céleste military camp, which concentrates their armed forces, and Sombrelune, a former prison city now located near Tartarus, their main penitentiary site. Their regular army consists of basic combatants as well as thaumaturgists."

The operator continued, his tone steady as he flipped to another page of his notes:

"Their army also has elite units, such as the Winged Cavaliers, the equivalent of their air force. They're likely the bastards who attacked the plane. Then there's the Order of the Void Guardians, tasked with protecting the borders and hunting down invaders. They're probably the ones who will be tracking us.

Finally, there's the religious faction, called the Church of the Celestial Vault. They worship the god of the sky, 'Phamses.' Their structure is eerily similar to the Catholic Church of old, except it's not led by a pope but by a High Priest called Solémar. The church holds an extremely xenophobic policy, viewing outsiders like us as 'impurities' or 'filth' that must be purged.

Their influence is omnipresent across Univer'Isle, and Solémar's authority is second only to, or possibly equal to, that of the king himself. Under their command are numerous religious orders composed of fanatics, such as the Sky Monks and the Ether Chanters. There's also a splinter group called the Celestial Disciples, a sect even more extreme and violent than the main church.

Their headquarters is the Cathedral of Clouds, located in Guérin, the royal capital."

The operator exhaled deeply, letting the weight of the information sink in, as the others exchanged uneasy glances.

Léonard sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

"So there we have it, folks. We're stuck in another dimension, in a magical kingdom that wants to put us six feet under. Lucky for us, we might be able to find some allies."

He nodded toward the operator, prompting him to continue. The operator cleared his throat and resumed:

"Well, with a government this oppressive, there are, of course, those who resist. First, we have the Delisian Movement, an active rebel group opposing the kingdom through acts of rebellion. Then there's another group called the Brotherhood of Shadows. To be honest, no one knows much about their motives. What we do know is that they've carried out numerous acts of sabotage and assassinations targeting the nobility and the clergy."

The team exchanged glances, their expressions impassive.

Léonard clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention.

"Alright, does anyone here have a brilliant idea for our next move?"

Alexei raised his hand immediately. "Boss, we can't stay here for long. We need to focus on finding a way back to Earth."

Another operator raised his hand. "During the conversation earlier, I heard the PoI mention a grand library where she supposedly learned to speak Latin. Maybe we could check that out for more information."

Léonard nodded thoughtfully. "Good point."

Alexei chimed in again. "We'll also need a base of operations. And some local clothing to blend in. Walking around like this, we stick out like a sore thumb."

Léonard smirked slightly. "Fair enough. Let's figure out how to make that happen. Alexei, you take 3 operators with you and go to this library, take the opportunity to find a map and some information."

"Me and the rest," Léonard continued, "we'll explore the area around here and stick close to the Person of Interest. I'm far too weakened right now. I don't have SCP-066-DE or SCP-4112. The only thing I can rely on is my Demon Mode, but I need to train myself to control it."

He looked around the group with a firm expression. "All operators, copy all the information from the notebook into your own. Then rest up. Alexei's team, you're leaving tomorrow morning to go explore said library."

As the operators nodded and began their tasks, Léonard raised his voice. "James!"

The Demon Mode user quickly responded. "Yes, Boss?"

Léonard's eyes locked on him. "Come with me. You're going to teach me how to control my power."

James straightened up, a slight grin forming on his face. "At your orders, Boss."

Léonard and James stood in a secluded clearing surrounded by towering trees, the sound of rustling leaves filling the silence. The forest air was thick, the dim light casting long shadows as James crossed his arms, assessing Léonard's posture.

"Alright, Boss," James began, his tone calm but firm, "the Demon Mode isn't just about raw power. It's about control. You'll destroy yourself faster than any enemy if you don't understand its stages."

Léonard nodded, rolling his shoulders to loosen up. "Let's start. I'm listening."

James raised a hand, palm open, as faint black markings began to crawl up his arm, glowing faintly red.

"Stage One: Passive," James explained. "This is always active. It's subtle, enhanced reflexes, faster healing, sharper senses. You might not even realize it, but it's what keeps you ahead in a fight. Think of it like a pilot light in a furnace."

Léonard frowned, focusing on himself. "So, I've been in Stage One all along?"

"Exactly," James confirmed. "It's automatic. But it's just the foundation. Stage Two is where you start tapping into the real power."

James clenched his fist, and dark tattoos began to form on his skin, spiraling up his arms and neck. His eyes glowed faintly crimson as he exhaled slowly.

"Stage Two: Tattoo," James continued. "This is the first active stage. The tattoos appear when you channel your energy. It amplifies strength and speed but burns through stamina. Focus is key, push too far, and you'll lose control."

Léonard studied James, nodding as he flexed his hands. "Alright. Tattoos. What's next?"

James smirked, his body beginning to shift. His teeth grew sharper, his nails elongating into claws. A faint red aura surrounded him as his voice dropped into a deeper timbre.

"Stage Three: Half-Demon," James said, his voice reverberating slightly. "This is where things get dangerous. You're stronger, faster, and more resilient, but the demon's instincts start bleeding into your mind. Rage becomes harder to control. You need a clear goal or anchor to stop yourself from spiraling."

Léonard's expression tightened. "What's the drawback?"

"The longer you stay in this form, the more it eats at your humanity," James warned, his glowing eyes locking with Léonard's. "If you stay here too long, you might not come back the same."

Taking a deep breath, James's entire body transformed in an instant. His skin darkened, horns sprouted from his head, and his aura flared violently. His voice, guttural and otherworldly, carried a weight that made Léonard instinctively step back.

"Stage Four: Full Demon," James growled, his form towering over Léonard. "This is pure chaos. You're unstoppable, but you're also uncontrollable. You'll destroy friend and foe alike. If you reach this stage, you'd better have a damn good reason, because you won't last long before the power consumes you."

James exhaled, his body slowly reverting back to normal. He wiped his forehead, beads of sweat glistening despite the cool forest air.

"The key is balance, Boss," James said, his voice back to normal. "Don't rush through the stages. Learn each one, control it, and only escalate when you're ready."

Léonard clenched his fists, determination in his eyes. "Alright. Let's start with Stage Two. Show me how to summon the tattoos."

James smirked, stepping closer. "Focus on your energy. Picture it running through your veins. Then, let it rise to the surface. But don't let it overflow. Start small."

Léonard closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. A faint warmth began spreading through his body as he focused. After a few moments, faint black lines started forming on his forearms, glowing faintly purple.

"Good start," James said, nodding approvingly. "Now, hold it. Don't let it spread too fast."

Léonard's breathing quickened as the tattoos started to crawl up his arms. His heart pounded, and the urge to push further gnawed at him.

"Stay calm!" James barked. "Control it. You're the master, not the power."

Léonard gritted his teeth, forcing the tattoos to stop mid-way up his biceps. He exhaled shakily, the lines dimming slightly but holding steady.

"Not bad," James said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've got potential, Boss. But we've got a long way to go."

Léonard opened his eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm ready. Let's keep going."

James crossed his arms and nodded.

"Sit down, and take the lotus position. It'll help circulate your energy through your body."

Leonard frowned but complied, lowering himself to the ground and crossing his legs, his hands resting lightly on his knees.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You want control? Then yes," James said firmly. "Now, close your eyes. Breathe in deeply. Feel the energy moving through you, don't force it. Let it flow naturally."

Leonard sighed but did as instructed, inhaling deeply. The ambient noises of the forest faded as his focus sharpened. A strange warmth began to well up inside him, spreading through his chest, his limbs, and finally his mind.

James's voice softened.

"That's it. Now, follow it. Don't let your thoughts distract you. Sink into the flow."

Leonard's breathing slowed. The warmth intensified, becoming almost tangible. And then, without warning, everything went white.

When Leonard opened his eyes, he was no longer in the forest. He found himself in an endless white void. He stood up, confused, looking around at the featureless expanse.

"What the hell…?"

A voice echoed from behind him, dripping with smug amusement.

"What up, bitch? You finally gonna use my power?"

Leonard spun around, coming face-to-face with another version of himself, identical except for one glaring detail, this Leonard's eyes shimmered like galaxies, filled with countless stars.

Leonard crossed his arms and gave a tired nod.

"Ah, it's you…"

The demon smirked, leaning slightly forward.

"So, finally decided to use me, huh?"

Leonard sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Well, I don't really have much of a choice."

With a snap of the demon's fingers, two chairs materialized in the void. He casually sat down on one, crossing his legs, and gestured toward the other.

"Sit," the demon said, his tone playful.

Leonard hesitated but eventually sat across from him. The demon's grin faded, replaced by a serious expression. His starry eyes locked onto Leonard's.

"Listen, I don't mind giving you my power. But you'd better understand one thing."

The air grew heavier as the demon leaned forward.

"Forget about Stage 3 and Stage 4 for now. Your body isn't ready for it. If you try to push that far, you'll die."

Leonard leaned forward, locking eyes with the demon.

"Alright, but I'l have a few questions to ask you, since we're both here."

The demon smirked, slouching into his chair. "Of course, go ahead."

Leonard didn't break his gaze. "Your power… it's far stronger than that of my subordinate, another Demon Mode user. Who exactly are you?"

The demon burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the white void. "Bahaha! Comparing me to those inferiors? You're hilarious, Leo."

He leaned forward slightly, his starry eyes gleaming. "Right now, I'm your demon. That's all you need to know."

Leonard's expression hardened, but the demon waved him off.

"If you want to know more about me, prove yourself strong enough. Until then, don't waste your breath."

Leonard tensed up, his brow furrowing as he asked, "Alright, then how did you make those weird weapons appear during the fight with 096?"

The demon leaned back, tapping his chin theatrically. "Mmmmmmh, how to explain it in a way you'll understand… Mmmmmm… Oh, I've got it!"

The demon grinned mischievously. "It's like when you get an erection."

Leonard blinked. "A What?!"

The demon carried on, ignoring him. "When blood rushes to your thing, your hormones trigger it, and voilà, you 'unsheath your sword.' The principle is the same for these energy-made weapons."

Leonard buried his face in his hands. "Please, stop talking."

But the demon wasn't done. "Focus your power into any part of your body, shape it into a form you've prepared beforehand, and then just let it out. The weapon will manifest in the form you intended. It takes preparation and experience."

Leonard stood abruptly, puffing out his chest with a confident grin. "Oh, don't worry, I've got plenty of experience!"

The demon froze, giving Leonard a blank, incredulous stare. "Excuse me, what?"

Leonard coughed, his face flushing. "Uh… never mind. Forget I said that."

Leonard sat back down on the chair, exhaling deeply. " Anyways, I think that's it. I don't really have any more questions."

The demon grinned wickedly. "Perfect. Now, fuck off."

With a snap of his fingers, Leonard felt the world around him dissolve into nothingness.

In an instant, his eyes flew open. He was back, still sitting in the lotus position on the forest floor. The faint rustle of leaves and the cool evening air greeted him.

James knelt nearby, arms crossed, watching him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You're back. How do you feel?"

Leonard closed his eyes again, drawing in a slow, measured breath. The world around him seemed to fade as he focused inward, his mind locking onto the energy coursing through him.

James stood by, arms crossed, observing closely. The air shifted, growing heavy with an otherworldly presence.

A faint shimmer began to emerge from Leonard's tattoos, starting as barely visible streaks before blooming into a radiant display. The patterns across his skin shifted in hue, darkening to deep shades of black and violet, like the endless expanse of space. Tiny points of light, like distant stars, appeared within the darkness, glittering faintly as though a galaxy had been etched into his flesh.

The glow pulsed softly, the stars shimmering with each beat of Leonard's heart. The tattoos no longer just marked his body, they seemed alive, an infinite cosmos contained within him.

James raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Now that's more like it. Keep it steady, though. This kind of energy isn't something you want slipping out of control."

Leonard furrowed his brow, his focus unyielding. The cosmic glow rippled and swirled, but he held it firm, refusing to let it overwhelm him. Each pulse of light became steadier, more deliberate.

Sweat trickled down his temple, but he didn't waver. "Alright," he said, his voice calm but resolute. "I think I've got it under control."

James nodded, his expression approving. "Looks like you've tapped into the core of it. That's raw potential, boss. But remember: power like this isn't just for show. If you can't channel it when it matters, it'll burn you out."

Leonard opened his eyes, the black and violet glow of his tattoos reflected faintly in his determined gaze. Tiny stars flickered within the darkness of the ink, mirroring the cosmic expanse etched onto his skin.

"I didn't come this far to let it burn me out," he replied firmly.

James chuckled, stepping back. "Good. Then let's see if you can keep that promise."

Leonard stood in the clearing, his tattoos still shimmering with the dark, starry glow of his awakened power. He flexed his fingers, feeling the immense energy coursing through him. His body felt lighter, stronger, like every movement carried the weight of a tidal wave.

James leaned casually against a nearby tree, watching with his usual calm demeanor. "Alright, boss, let's see what you can do now. Start small. No need to blow up the whole forest."

Leonard smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Small, huh? Let's test that."

He walked toward a nearby tree, a sturdy one, easily two feet in diameter. Placing his hand on the rough bark, he sized it up. The cosmic glow in his tattoos intensified as he channeled a fraction of his newfound strength into his right hand.

He raised his hand, his index finger extended, and gave the trunk a light flick.

The impact was anything but light.

The tree exploded out of the ground, roots and all, as if hit by a wrecking ball. It flew backward, crashing through the air with a deafening whoosh before smashing into the ground several meters away. Splinters and debris rained down, the ground trembling from the impact.

Leonard blinked, staring at the destruction he'd caused with such a simple gesture. "…Okay, that's new."

James burst out laughing, clapping his hands slowly. "A flick ? Damn, boss, remind me never to get on your bad side."

Leonard flexed his fingers again, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Not bad. But I think I'll need more control before I start shaking hands with anyone."

James smirked, walking over to inspect the fallen tree. "Control comes with practice. But hey, at least we know you're not lacking in raw power. Let's see what else you can break."

Leonard cracked his neck, turning to a nearby boulder. "Let's."

Leonard stretched his shoulders, his starry tattoos dimming slightly but still vibrant against his skin. He turned toward James, who stood across the clearing, arms crossed and a grin plastered on his face.

"You think you're ready for a fight?" James asked, rolling his neck. The faint shimmer of his own demon tattoos, dark and edged with red, began to pulse.

Leonard smirked. "You tell me. Just try to keep up."

James's grin widened. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Without warning, Leonard dashed forward, his speed faster than even he anticipated. The world blurred around him as he swung a punch at James's midsection, but James sidestepped just in time, his reflexes sharp. Leonard's fist connected with a nearby boulder, shattering it into a cloud of dust and jagged shards.

"Watch your control, boss!" James teased, leaping back and launching a sharp kick toward Leonard's ribs.

Leonard twisted awkwardly, narrowly avoiding the strike but stumbling as his momentum carried him farther than he intended. "Damn it, I overshot!" he muttered, planting his foot and skidding to a stop.

James didn't let up, dashing forward and aiming a flurry of punches. Leonard blocked most of them, but the force still sent him sliding backward.

"You're fast," Leonard admitted, his breathing steady.

"And you're clumsy," James retorted. "Speed and strength mean nothing if you can't control them, boss."

Leonard lunged again, this time trying to slow himself. He threw a punch aimed at James's shoulder, but his timing was off. James ducked and countered with an uppercut that sent Leonard staggering.

"Focus!" James said, his tattoos flaring brighter as he unleashed a sweeping kick that Leonard barely deflected.

"I'm trying!" Leonard growled, frustration mounting.

He surged forward once more, this time focusing on precision rather than power. Leonard swung a calculated punch, but James caught his wrist, twisting it and forcing him to pivot. Leonard reacted instinctively, using the spin to bring his leg up for a roundhouse kick.

James raised his arm, blocking the kick, but the impact sent him sliding back a few feet. His grin faded slightly, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "Not bad. You're learning."

Leonard exhaled, steadying himself. "Give me a few more rounds, and I'll wipe that smirk off your face."

James chuckled, crouching into a fighting stance. "You're welcome to try. Let's see what you've got, boss."

The two charged at each other again, their strikes and counters sending shockwaves through the clearing. Though Leonard's raw power was overwhelming, James's mastery of the Demon Mode kept them evenly matched. It was a battle of experience versus raw potential, and neither was ready to back down.

---

William sat up, his head aching as he looked at the night sky outside. His mother was sitting across from him, reading a book by the light of a candle. When she noticed that William was awake, she rushed to his side, stroked his forehead, and murmured softly: "How are your wounds?"

William smiled faintly. "Much better." He slowly sat up and looked at his mother. "Mother, where are the strangers who saved me?"

His mother's smile stiffened. "William, forget those strangers. Getting involved with them will put you in grave danger."

"Why?" William asked.

His mother sighed. "They're Earthlings…"

William froze, then clenched his teeth. "Earthlings or not, they saved me. I have to repay their kindness."

His mother pleaded. "Don't do this, or the Church will kill you."

William smiled at her. "Mother, you always taught me to repay kindness with kindness. They saved me; I have to return the favor."

His mother looked at him with a complicated expression before relenting. "Fine. But please, be careful."

Suddenly, they saw several flames ignite throughout the village, accompanied by shouting and the sound of barking dogs.

William froze as the sound of frantic footsteps and shouts filled the night air. The dim glow of torches reflected off the walls of the small home, and he could see shadows dancing wildly through the window. His mother gripped his arm tightly, her face pale with fear.

"Stay here," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't move."

Before William could respond, the door burst open with a deafening crash. Three men in long, dark robes stormed inside, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Each held a torch or a staff adorned with strange, glowing symbols.

One of the robed figures pointed at William's mother. "Come with us. Now."

She stood her ground, shielding William with her body. "Leave my son alone!" she cried, her voice breaking.

The cultist ignored her plea and motioned to the others. Two of them grabbed her by the arms, dragging her toward the door as she kicked and screamed.

"Mother!" William yelled, rushing toward her, but one of the men shoved him back, his strength far greater than expected. William stumbled, falling to the ground.

Through the doorway, he saw the chaos unfolding outside. Villagers were being pulled from their homes, some begging for mercy, others struggling against their captors. Children cried as they were separated from their parents. The once-quiet village was now a scene of pure terror.

"Why are you doing this?" William shouted, his voice hoarse.

One of the cultists glanced at him briefly, the glow of their torch illuminating the faint glint of steel beneath their robe. "The Church of the Celestial Vault commands it. All impurity must be cleansed."

William's blood ran cold. He scrambled to his feet, his hands shaking as he searched for anything he could use to defend himself. A wooden stool caught his eye, and he grabbed it, holding it like a weapon.

"Let her go!" he demanded, though his voice wavered.

The cultist laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "You have no power here, boy. Stay out of our way, or you'll join the others."

His mother turned her tear-filled eyes to him. "William, run!" she pleaded. "Save yourself!"

"No," he whispered to himself, gripping the stool tighter. "I won't let this happen."

Determined, William forced himself to move. If he was going to stop them, he had to act now.

But suddenly a powerful gust of wind exploded from his mother's outstretched hands. A glowing, intricate magic circle appeared before her, swirling with energy.

"Mother!" he managed to shout before the wind caught him, hurling him through the window like a ragdoll.

The world spun as he tumbled through the air, shards of glass cutting his skin. He landed hard on the ground several meters away, the breath knocked out of him. Dazed, he pushed himself up on shaking arms, his ears ringing.

Through the ringing, he heard a panicked voice shout from inside the house.

"Damn it! A mage! Kill her!"

William's heart sank as he looked up, just in time to see a horde of cultists storming toward his home. Torches illuminated their weapons and cruel grins, but they didn't make it far.

With a sweeping motion of her arms, his mother unleashed a barrage of razor-sharp wind blades that tore through the attackers like paper. Blood sprayed into the air as bodies collapsed one after the other.

One of the remaining cultists screamed, his voice high with terror. "That mana signature, shit, it's her! The Wind Witch! She's a wanted criminal! Kill her at all costs!"

The others hesitated for a brief moment, their steps faltering as recognition dawned on them. Then they rallied, more cultists rushing forward, weapons raised.

William stared in shock, his mind racing to process what he had just heard. "The Wind Witch?" His mother, a wanted criminal? How could this be?

The roof of William's house and his mother rose into the air, lifted by the swirling winds she commanded. She floated high above, her silhouette framed by the flames' light. Turning toward William, her voice was calm but firm.

"Run, William," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

William's heart twisted, and he shouted back, desperation in his voice. "NOT WITHOUT YOU! WE CAN STILL ESCAPE TOGETHER!"

But before she could respond, a piercing shriek echoed from above, cutting through the chaos. Both of them looked up as bright lights appeared in the night sky, descending rapidly toward the village.

His mother's face grew pale as she whispered, "Oh no… the Winged Cavaliers."

William followed her gaze and saw them, figures on winged mounts, glowing weapons ready, diving straight for the village.

She turned back to him and forced a smile, tears glistening in her eyes. "Will… remember this, no matter what happens… I love you."

A single tear slipped down her cheek as she raised her hands, summoning another powerful gust of wind. William barely had time to react before it struck him, launching him backward like a leaf in a storm.

"MOOOOOOTHEEERRR!" he screamed, his voice breaking as he tumbled through the air.

Through blurred vision, he saw her smile one last time in his direction, tears streaming down her face. She turned back toward the incoming threat as one of the Winged Cavaliers dove straight for her, their blade glowing with deadly energy.

His mother raised her hand and summoned another circle of wind, meeting the rider head-on. Her bare hand clashed with their sword, and the air exploded with raw energy, sending shockwaves across the village.

William landed hard on the ground, struggling to his feet. His chest heaved as he stared at the chaotic scene above. Despite his mother's parting words, his heart screamed for him to fight, to do anything to save her. But he saw several cultists coming towards him, and he ran, he fled into the depths of the forest, in tears.

---

The forest was silent, bathed in the dim light of glowing insects. The lack of a moon turned the night into an abyss of darkness, where only faint luminescent specks broke the void. Léonard rested against the trunk of a massive tree, his breathing slow and labored after the grueling training earlier. His exhaustion was evident as his head tilted slightly, eyes closed.

Three operators stood on guard a few meters away, their silhouettes blending into the night. One of them, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, glanced at his colleagues and muttered, "Hey, you guys up for a bit of chatter? I'm dying of boredom here."

The second operator, a tall figure with his weapon resting against his shoulder, scowled and hissed, "Are you crazy? Do you want Alexei or the boss to catch us slacking? We'll never hear the end of it."

The first operator shrugged, leaning casually against a tree. "I don't know, I think the boss is pretty chill. He let us blow off steam before this mission, didn't he? Even joined our party the night before departure."

The third operator, a wiry man with sharp eyes scanning the perimeter, sighed and muttered under his breath. "Yeah, but if you'd seen the faces of the higher-ups… they looked like they were ready to strangle all of us. The only reason we didn't get torn to pieces was because the boss gave them the signal to let it go."

The first operator smirked, leaning in a little closer to his colleague. "That's exactly my point. The boss has our backs. Not like Alexei, dude's terrifying. I swear he doesn't even blink."

The second operator raised a hand to silence them, his tone sharp. "Shut it. If Alexei's terrifying, imagine what happens if the boss wakes up and hears you badmouthing his subordinate. You really want to test that theory?"

The first operator straightened up, grinning sheepishly. "Alright, alright. I get it. No badmouthing."

The third operator, still focused on the shadows of the forest, suddenly stiffened. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Enough talking. Something doesn't feel right."

The group fell silent, their jovial tone replaced by a tense readiness as they scanned the forest around them, weapons at the ready. The soft rustling of leaves in the distance was the only sound, barely audible over their own breathing. The night seemed to grow heavier, the glow of the insects dimming as if even they sensed something was wrong.

One of the operators squinted toward the dense thicket ahead, his voice low but tense. "Guys, I'm picking up heavy EVE activity. Concentrated. Multiple signatures coming from that direction."

The second operator glanced at him, frowning. "Too suspicious. I'm going to wake Vice-Commander Alexei."

Before he could move, a deep voice interrupted, calm but commanding. "No need. I'm already awake."

The three operators snapped their heads around to see Alexei rising from where he had been seated, his imposing figure illuminated faintly by the glowing insects. His expression was sharp, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the same direction the first operator had pointed out.

Alexei took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on the distant trees as though he could see through the darkness itself. "Impossible to sleep with EVE activity this intense. It's practically suffocating." He turned his head slightly, his voice cold and efficient. "Wake everyone. Now."

The operators didn't hesitate. They quickly moved to rouse their comrades, their movements swift but quiet as the tension in the air grew thicker. Meanwhile, Alexei kept his eyes on the forest, his hand resting on his weapon, ready for whatever was coming.

Leonard was shaken awake by one of the operators. He groggily sat up, stretched, and yawned before walking over to Alexei, who was standing with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the distant forest.

"What's going on?" Leonard asked, his voice still tinged with fatigue.

Alexei turned to face him, his expression serious. "Boss, I have a strong feeling that the village you visited earlier today is in trouble. There's heavy EVE activity coming from that direction. What's the call?"

Leonard blinked, his drowsiness vanishing as he processed Alexei's words. He rolled his shoulders, his voice calm but resolute. "We head out for reconnaissance. Gear up and move. Let's see what's going on."

Alexei gave a firm nod, already signaling the rest of the team to assemble. The operators quickly readied their equipment, their movements swift and practiced. Leonard grabbed his gear, his mind racing with possibilities as they set out into the dark, silent forest.

---

William sprinted through the dense forest, tears streaming down his face, blurring his vision. His breathing was ragged, his chest tightening with every step. The underbrush clawed at his legs, ripping through his tattered clothing and leaving scratches on his skin. The sting of the cold night air mixed with the warmth of his tears, but he didn't stop.

Behind him, the ominous glow of flames illuminated the trees, casting flickering shadows that seemed to reach out for him. The shouts of the cultists grew louder, their guttural voices cutting through the forest's stillness.

"There! He went this way!" one of them roared, and William felt his heart drop.

His foot snagged on a root, and he stumbled forward, barely catching himself on a tree trunk. He didn't dare look back. Keep moving. Just keep moving.

The crackling of twigs and leaves under his feet was drowned out by the sound of snapping branches and heavy boots gaining on him. His body was growing weary, the adrenaline that fueled him beginning to wane.

Suddenly, he felt a weight slam into him from behind. The force sent him crashing to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs. His face scraped against the dirt as strong hands pinned him down.

"Got him!" the cultist snarled, his breath hot and foul against William's ear. William struggled, kicking and thrashing, but the man's grip was ironclad.

The flames in the distance grew brighter, and the cultist leaned in closer, his voice dripping with malice. "You're not going anywhere, dirty heretic."

William's cries echoed through the clearing as the cultists dragged him to a tree. They tied his hands behind him with rough, fraying rope, the fibers digging into his wrists. His struggles only made them laugh, their jeers cutting deeper than the bindings.

"Look at him squirm," one sneered, a twisted grin on his face. "Doesn't he look like a scared little lamb?"

Another cultist, taller and broad-shouldered, leaned down and grabbed William by the chin, forcing him to look up. His face was hidden behind a mask carved with jagged runes, but his voice carried clear disdain. "Such soft skin. You're the son of that witch, aren't you?"

William spat at him, his trembling lip betraying his defiance. The cultist's head tilted slightly, and then, without warning, he struck William across the face with the back of his hand. The boy's head snapped to the side, blood dripping from a fresh cut on his lip.

"Feisty," the masked man said, his voice amused. "That won't last long."

Another cultist approached, carrying a metal stick, he left it heated a little on the fire of a torch and then took it out. The tip shone with a faint orange, radiating heat. William's eyes widened in terror as the cultist smiled, holding the stick a few centimetres from his face.

"This one's for your mother, boy," the man hissed, pressing the hot metal against William's arm.

William screamed as the stick seared his skin, the scent of burning flesh filling the air. The cultists howled in laughter, some clapping and others mocking his cries.

"Not so brave now, are you?" one of them jeered, kicking dirt in his face.

William's head drooped, his body trembling from pain. His vision blurred with tears as another cultist approached, brandishing a dagger. The blade was ornate, etched with blue symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light.

"Shall we see how deep his courage runs?" the dagger-wielding cultist asked, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.

The others roared their approval, circling William like vultures around a dying animal. William struggled against his restraints, but his movements were weak and frantic, his breaths shallow.

Through the haze of pain and fear, he whispered to himself: "Mother, help me… someone, help me…"

From the darkness surrounding the clearing, faint whispers of movement broke the silence. Before the cultists could react, multiple shadows emerged with deadly precision. They moved like wraiths, their footsteps silent against the forest floor.

The first cultist barely had time to turn before a glint of steel slashed across his throat. He crumpled to the ground, his torch extinguished by his falling body.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" another cultist shouted, reaching for his blade.

The words barely left his mouth before a knife buried itself in his chest, the force sending him staggering back into the flames. His scream was cut short.

Panic spread like wildfire.

The cultists, disoriented, turned in every direction, their torches flickering as they tried to locate the attackers. But the shadows gave them no chance. They struck with unparalleled efficiency, each movement calculated, each blow fatal.

One of the robed men raised a staff, chanting hurriedly in a guttural language. The air around him began to shimmer with magical energy, but before his spell could form, a knife flew through the air and pierced his throat. The glowing staff fell from his grasp as he gurgled, collapsing to the dirt.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" one cultist screamed, raising his weapon.

It was futile. The attackers, silent and relentless, descended on him. A blade swept across his legs, cutting his tendons. He fell, and the shadow standing above him finished the job with a single, brutal thrust.

William, still tied to the post, could only watch in horror. The cultists who had been tormenting him moments ago were now being slaughtered like cattle. One by one, they fell, their cries for mercy ignored.

The cultists tried to regroup, some raising torches to illuminate the area. The flickering light revealed glimpses of their attackers: dark figures with knives glinting in their hands, their faces obscured by the night.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" a cultist shouted desperately, his voice cracking with fear.

There was no answer. The attackers moved as one, cutting through the cultists with ruthless precision.

A burly cultist wielding a mace charged at one of the shadows, swinging wildly. The figure ducked under the attack, then leapt forward, plunging their blade into his chest. The cultist let out a choked gasp before collapsing.

Another cultist, trembling, dropped his weapon and tried to run. He barely made it three steps before a knife sailed through the air, embedding itself between his shoulder blades.

The leader of the cultists, the man who had orchestrated William's torture, raised his hands, shouting an incantation. A glowing circle of light formed in front of him, crackling with energy.

"FOOLS!" he roared. "YOU DARE CHALLENGE US-"

A shadow materialized behind him, a knife slicing cleanly through the air. The circle vanished as the leader's body jerked forward, the blade protruding from his chest. He fell to his knees, blood pooling around him as his lifeless body slumped forward.

The last cultist, realizing the fight was lost, screamed in desperation and lunged toward William with a dagger. Before he could reach him, one of the shadows intercepted him, a swift slash severing the tendons in his wrist. The cultist howled in pain before a final strike silenced him for good.

The clearing was silent once more, the only sounds the crackling of dying flames and William's ragged breathing.

The shadows gathered, their knives sheathed, as one of them approached William. Without a word, the figure cut the ropes binding him to the post. William fell forward, catching himself on trembling hands and knees.

He looked up at his rescuer, his voice barely a whisper. "W-Who are you?"

One of the shadows stepped closer to William, holding a small, strange device in their hand. With a soft click, it emitted a beam of bright white light, cutting through the darkness and illuminating the figure's face.

William's breath hitched as the familiar features came into focus. His bruised and tear-streaked face broke into a shaky smile.

"Liam…" William whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and disbelief.

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I'm so sorry for taking so much time for this chapter, I was trying to look right and left for writing techniques and tips to improve the chapters posted, so don't worry the Univer'isle arc won't last long. 🙏