The Dagger’s Edge

The chamber reeked of damp stone, charred incense, and something darker—the scent of pain itself.

Torches lined the cavernous walls, their flames flickering eerily as if alive, casting shadows that slithered like restless specters.

The air was thick, suffocating, pressing against Ariel's lungs like a vice.

She stood in the center of it all, frozen, fingers clenched around the dagger the Saya had placed in her hand. It felt wrong— cold as ice

Her gaze landed on the prisoner kneeling before her.

Her stomach dropped.

The body was frail, hunched over in agony. Their arms were tied behind their back, trembling. The fabric of their clothes was ripped, stained with blood and dirt.

No.

No. No. No.

The Saya's voice rang through the chamber. "This one is too weak. A simple kill. You should be grateful."

Grateful.

Ariel's grip loosened. She hadn't moved, hadn't even breathed.

This wasn't happening.

It couldn't be happening.

The prisoner stirred. A slow, weak movement. And then—their hood slipped back.

Ariel's breath stopped.

Her vision swam.

Because the face staring back at her—pale, bruised, barely recognizable—

Was Kathleen.

Her friend.

Her only friend.

Ariel's chest constricted. The room tilted.

Kathleen's lips parted. A shaky breath left her throat.

Then, a smile.

Not fear. Not despair.

Hope.

"Ariel…?" Kathleen's voice was so soft, so broken—but filled with relief.

She thought Ariel was here to save her.

'How?'

How was she here?

Kathleen stirred weakly, head lifting inch by agonizing inch until her hollow, sunken eyes locked onto Ariel.

And then…

A smile.

A weak, trembling smile.

"Ariel…?" Kathleen's voice was a whisper, cracking like shattered glass. Hope flickered across her face, pure, raw, devastating hope.

Ariel felt her stomach twist into a million knots.

No. No, don't look at me like that.

She should have known. She should have expected this.

The Saya had promised Ariel two tests. The first had been endurance—the unbearable, skin-searing torment of hellfire oil sinking into her flesh. But this… this was worse.

The Saya's voice echoed through the cavern, smooth as silk, sharp as knives. "Your second test is before you, Ariel. The simplest of them all. You should be grateful."

Grateful.

Ariel barely heard her. The world around her blurred, fading into nothing but Kathleen's trembling body.

Then, a chuckle.

Low. Amused.

The Devil leaned lazily against his throne of obsidian and bone, watching her with those molten, unreadable eyes. His lips curled, the ghost of a smirk dancing along his sharp jawline.

Enjoying this.

Ariel's fingers curled tighter around the dagger's hilt, her nails digging into her palm. She could barely breathe.

Kathleen tried to move forward, struggling against her restraints. She thought Ariel had come to save her.

She didn't know.

Ariel's knees nearly buckled.

"This is mercy," Kyla murmured, stepping forward, her voice dripping with something close to boredom. "She's weak. She wouldn't last much longer anyway."

Ariel's nails dug deeper into her palm.

Kathleen wasn't weak.

She had fought beside Ariel, stood by her, bled for her. And now… they expected Ariel to kill her?

A sharp laugh cut through her spiraling thoughts.

"I see hesitation." The Devil's voice was smooth, rich—dangerous.

Ariel's head snapped up. His smirk deepened.

"This should be easy for you," he continued, tilting his head slightly. "After all… you endured far worse."

Ariel's breath hitched.

He was testing her.

Again.

Kathleen's eyes flickered between Ariel and the dagger clutched in her shaking hands. And then—understanding dawned.

Her breath faltered.

"Ariel?"

Silence.

Ariel couldn't speak. She couldn't move.

Kathleen's entire body stiffened, and then—she laughed.

A broken, shattered laugh.

"Oh," she whispered, voice barely audible. "Oh, God."

Her gaze darted around the chamber—at the Saya, at Kyla, at the Devil, and then back to Ariel. Her lips trembled.

"They… they want you to kill me."

Ariel's throat closed.

Kathleen let out a hollow, breathless laugh.

"That's why you're here," she whispered.

Ariel took a step forward.

"Kathleen, I—"

Kathleen moved.

Just an inch.

Just enough to reach for Ariel.

To cling to the hope that this was all a mistake.

A chance to escape.

To survive.

Crack.

The sound split the air like a whip of thunder.

And then, a scream.

Kathleen's scream.

A flash of crimson.

A blur of movement.

And then Kathleen was on the ground, gasping, trembling.

Blood pooled beneath her. A deep, violent gash ran across her back.

Ariel barely saw him move—but the Devil had.

And he was still holding the whip.

Ariel's breath came in sharp, panicked bursts.

The weapon coiled in his grip, shimmering like something alive. Long, black, breathing fire. The runes along its length pulsed—slow, steady. Like a heartbeat.

Majestic. Terrifying.

Kathleen coughed, blood trickling down her chin.

Ariel snapped.

"You—"

She turned on him, rage blinding her.

But the Devil barely acknowledged her.

She turned on him, her heart pounding, rage boiling beneath her skin.

He merely arched an eyebrow.

"She moved first," he said, calmly.

Like that explained everything.

Like that justified this.

Ariel's fists clenched, her body shaking.

The dagger in her grip burned cold.

Kathleen coughed, blood staining her lips as she tried to lift herself up.

Ariel dropped to her knees beside her, hands shaking.

"You'll be okay," she whispered, voice cracking. "I—I'll fix this, I promise, I—"

Kathleen's fingers grasped weakly at hers.

She tried to smile.

A broken, trembling smile.

And then—

The Devil took a step forward.

The air around them grew heavy.

Ariel stiffened.

The smirk on his lips had faded.

And in its place…

Something far worse.

Curiosity.

Interest.

As if she was nothing more than an experiment. A puzzle to be solved.

"Kill her," he murmured.

It wasn't a command.

It was a game.

A test to see if she would break.

Ariel's grip tightened around the dagger.

The blade trembled.

Her heart pounded.

The room felt smaller, suffocating.

Kathleen's breathing weakened.

The Saya watched with delight.

Kyla smirked.

And the Devil—

He simply waited.

Ariel's mind screamed.

She couldn't do this.

She couldn't.

Her nails dug into her palm, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

And then—a thought struck her.

A thought so wild, so reckless, she nearly gasped aloud.

If she killed Kathleen… she would break.

If she refused… she would die.

But if she chose something else—something unexpected.

Her grip on the dagger shifted.

And before she could hesitate—before she could let fear consume her—

Ariel lunged.

But not at Kathleen.

At the Devil.