The chamber was dimly lit, its walls carved from dark stone that seed to absorb rather than reflect light, creating an atmosphere that pressed heavily on the senses. At the center of it lay Justin, his body motionless against the cold ground, his breathing shallow and uneven as though he had already been dragged to the edge of death and left there.
His clothes were torn, stained with dried blood, and his once fiery presence had been reduced to sothing fragile and helpless. Standing before him were three figures whose re presence warped the air with authority and danger. Zermon, Nero Void and Vermain, whose eyes glead with a dark, calculating interest as he stared down at Justin like a craftsman examining a tool he intended to claim.
Vermain stepped forward first, his movents slow and deliberate, as though savoring the mont before action. He crouched slightly, his gaze fixed on Justin's weakened form, and a faint tallic glow flickered around his fingers as his Lock System stirred.
"He is still usable," he said, his tone low but filled with a quiet excitent that bordered on obsession.
"His will is fractured, his body weakened, his resistance nearly gone. If I apply the lock now, I can take full control permanently. No struggle, no instability. He would beco a perfect vessel." His lips curled faintly as he extended his hand, the invisible chanisms of his power beginning to align with Justin's fragile state. His lock System allowed him to inhabit objects and living things in common. He had been the one who had helped Nero Void take hold of Justin. Before he could proceed, a sharp force interrupted him.
Nero Void's foot slamd into Vermain's arm, knocking it aside with enough force to disrupt the forming lock entirely. The impact echoed faintly through the chamber as Vermain staggered back a step, his expression twisting into irritation as he turned toward Nero with a glare.
Nero stood there, his white robe brushing lightly against the ground, his expression calm but firm, his eyes carrying a quiet authority that refused to be ignored.
"That's a waste," Nero said flatly. "You're thinking too small. A controlled pawn is useful, but a hostage is far more valuable. This one is connected to Zakar. Use him correctly, and you don't just gain a tool you gain leverage."
Vermain's irritation deepened, his fingers twitching slightly as the remnants of his power faded.
"Leverage?" he scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. "You think that boy will hesitate because of this?" He gestured sharply toward Justin. "Zakar isn't weak-minded. He's already killed once. He will kill again if it benefits him. A hostage like this won't hold him for long. But a controlled body? That gives us a weapon from within his circle. That is far more effective."
Nero's gaze didn't waver. "You're assuming control guarantees loyalty. It doesn't. You're forcing obedience, not creating strategy. A hostage creates pressure, forces decisions, limiting movent and forcing to stay where we want him. That is how you control soone like him." His tone remained even, but there was a clear edge beneath it now, a growing tension between two powerful individuals who both believed they understood the ga better than the other.
The air between them tightened as their opposing views clashed, neither willing to yield, their voices rising just enough to break the stillness of the chamber. But through it all, one figure remained completely silent.
Zermon.
He had not moved, not spoken, not even shifted his gaze. He simply watched, his eyes resting on Justin's broken form as though the argunt unfolding before him held no real weight in his decision-making process. When he finally stepped forward, the room fell silent instantly not out of respect, but because his presence demanded it.
"Stupid... stupid... both wrong. ," Zermon said quietly. The words were not loud, but they carried absolute authority.
Vermain and Nero both turned toward him, their expressions shifting slightly, the tension between them dissolving into sothing more cautious as they waited for his judgnt.
Zermon stopped in front of Justin, looking down at him for a brief mont. There was no emotion in his gaze, no anger, no interest, no satisfaction. Only decision.
"A hostage creates delay," he continued calmly. "Control creates dependency. Both are temporary solutions." His eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't deal in temporary solutions."
Nero's expression shifted, a faint unease creeping into his usually composed deanor. "Then what do you suggest?" he asked, though sothing in his tone suggested he already suspected the answer.
Zermon didn't respond imdiately.
Instead he raised his hand, just slightly. Then flicked a single finger.
The effect was instantaneous.
Justin's body exploded in an instant. There was no buildup force, no visible attack, no mont to react. One second he was there broken but alive and the next, his body shattered into countless fragnts, blood and flesh scattering violently across the chamber floor in a grotesque, final display that left no room for survival.
Silence then followed.
Even Nero Void's eyes widened slightly, the calm composure he carried cracking for the briefest mont as he stared at what remained. Vermain froze completely, his earlier confidence replaced with sothing far more uncertain as he processed the sheer finality of what had just happened.
Zermon lowered his hand slowly, as though nothing significant had occurred.
"Package it," he said calmly, his voice returning to its usual asured tone as he glanced toward Vermain. "Send it to Zakar. Let him see what happens when he becos interesting."
Vermain hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding stiffly, forcing himself to move despite the lingering shock. "Understood," he replied, though his voice lacked its earlier certainty.
Zermon turned away from the remains without another glance, his attention already shifting elsewhere as though Justin's death had been nothing more than a minor step in a much larger plan. "And Nero," he added, his voice cutting through the silence once more.
Nero straightened slightly, his expression tightening as he focused on Zermon again. "Yes?"
Zermon paused briefly.
Then spoke.
"Thion is back."
The words landed heavier than anything that had co before. For the first ti, genuine tension appeared on Nero Void's face.
"…That's not possible..," he said quietly, though there was no denial in his voice only disbelief. "...he disappeared years ago. No one has seen him since."
Zermon's gaze remained forward, unreadable. "And yet… he's here."
Nero's jaw tightened slightly, his mind already racing through the implications. Thion was not just another enemy. He was a na that carried weight even among Tailors. A being equal to a million army by his Hallucination System. A man who could dismantle entire groups without ever physically touching them. It was folktaled that he had single handly defeated twenty upper class Tailors.
"…If he's really back," Nero said slowly, "then this changes everything." Zermon nodded once.
"It already has," he replied. "He's currently facing Enjin."
That was enough.
Nero's eyes darkened, the earlier confidence in his posture replaced with sothing far more cautious, far more calculated. If Thion was truly involved, then even soone like Enjin who had just proven his strength was walking into sothing far more dangerous than a simple fight.
For the first ti in a long while Nero Void felt sothing close to unease and even for Zermon? Though calm as ever he was watching carefully. He didn't intend to open sour wounds.
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