Cale rushed out of the room, his breath sharp, his body a tempest of movement. The metal slithered out of his skin, wrapping around him like a living entity, hardening into armor that gleamed under the flickering, sterile lights. His heart pounded against his ribs as his helmet sealed over his head, enclosing him in a shell of metal.He cast one st gnce at Tristan, whose words still echoed in his mind—"They feed us to you."

  Then he tore through the corridor like a force of nature. His fingers curled, metal twisting in response, wrenched doors from their frames with effortless, brutal strength. He kicked them open when his hands weren’t fast enough. One after another, he peered inside, searching. But each time, disappointment cwed at his gut. Empty rooms. Strange devices blinking in the dark. Hollow chambers filled with instruments that reeked of clinical coldness and death.

  A shadow of dread settled over him, its weight suffocating. Mirelle. Davion. He saw them in his mind, their small bodies limp, drained, lifeless on a surgical table, their skin shrunken and papery, mummified like husks. The thought made his vision blur with rage. His muscles tensed, his body screaming to move, to destroy, to stop this madness before it was too te.

  Another door. Another brutal strike.

  The hinges groaned. The metal screamed as it twisted apart under his grip.

  Cale stepped inside.

  He froze. His breath caught in his throat. Behind his visor, his eyes widened in horror.

  Suspended in vats of liquid, their bodies thin and shriveled, were children. Their skin was stretched tight over their bones, their features sunken, frozen in expressions of agony. Through the gss, he could see the remains of what once had been their vibrant, living selves.

  He knew them.

  Despite the years that had passed, despite the changes, he remembered their faces. He had trained with them.

  They had all arrived at the castle together on that first day, wide-eyed, uncertain, hopeful. They had been like him.

  Now they were nothing but withered husks, preserved like grotesque relics of some horrific experiment.

  His stomach twisted. His breathing became shallow.

  Tristan’s voice rang in his ears again. "They feed us to you."

  How?

  How could this be possible?

  His fingers trembled as he reached toward the gss, but he yanked his hand back as if burned. His armor shifted, rippling as if responding to his anguish. The weight of the realization crashed down on him like a colpsing mountain.

  Did I do this?

  "Did I... do this?" The words escaped him in a whisper, barely audible, as if saying them aloud would make them real.

  A sound.

  Footsteps.

  Cale whirled around.

  Two figures stood at the entrance, draped in gray robes.

  Their expressions twisted the moment they saw him. Panic fshed in their eyes.

  They turned to run.

  Cale moved before they could even take a second step.

  Metal surged from the ruined door behind him, shing forward, forming shackles in an instant. It snapped around their wrists, coiling around their ankles and mouths before they could scream.

  They struggled, muffled yells escaping through the metal bindings.

  Cale strode forward, his boots heavy against the floor, the air around him thick with fury. He knelt before one of them, his armored fingers gripping the man's robes, pulling him close.

  "What is happening here?" Cale’s voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with barely restrained rage. "Did I do this?"

  His grip tightened.

  He willed the metal covering the man’s mouth to shift, parting just enough for him to speak.

  But the man said nothing.

  He only stared at Cale, wide-eyed, lips trembling, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His silence was deafening.

  Cale’s jaw clenched. He smmed the metal back over the man’s mouth and rose to his feet.

  Time was slipping away. Soon, this pce would be swarming with guards, with mages, with people who would try to bury this nightmare before he could rip it open for the world to see.

  But he wasn’t done yet.

  He would find Mirelle and Davion.

  And he would make them pay.

  More gray-robed men appeared in his path, but he cut them down with ruthless efficiency. Metal shed out from his body, seizing them before they could react, twisting into bonds that yanked them to the ground, immobilizing them in an instant. Yet, just like the others, they offered no answers to his desperate questions—only silence, only wide, vacant eyes that refused to acknowledge the horror he had uncovered.

  He pressed forward, his breath ragged, checking every room he could find. Each door he wrenched open revealed the same emptiness—vacant chambers or spaces filled with strange, lifeless devices. His frustration and desperation grew, cwing at his throat like a beast. Every second wasted felt like another moment lost, another heartbeat closer to the possibility that Mirelle and Davion were already beyond saving.

  He was rushing down the hall when, as he cut a corner to the right—

  Something smmed into him with the force of a battering ram. His body jolted, skidding backward as his armor absorbed the impact. He twisted, metal slithering along his skin, forming defensive spikes, prepared to strike—

  But then he saw him.

  Alden.

  Cale’s breath hitched. His armor receded slightly, slithering back from his face, revealing his tear-streaked expression.

  "Wow, Cale," Alden said, dusting himself off with an easy grin. "I've been looking for you for a while. You weren’t in the training room. What’s the problem?"

  Cale stared at him, his body trembling—not from exhaustion, but from the storm raging inside him. He swallowed hard, his voice thick with emotion. "Alden… I discovered something horrible."

  His gauntlet groaned as his fist tightened. "Tristan is dead." His voice broke on the words, and fresh tears welled in his eyes. "They—they did something to him. To the others. A bunch of kids. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but we have to stop it. We have to find Mirelle and Davion before it’s too te. Please, you have to help me!"

  Desperation leaked from every sylble, raw and exposed. He was pleading—not just for aid, but for understanding, for someone to stand beside him in this nightmare.

  Alden stared at him for a long moment. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he closed his eyes.

  "I'm sorry, Cale."

  Cale barely had time to process the words before pain erupted in his side. A brutal, crushing force struck him in the liver, stealing the air from his lungs. His armor groaned upon impact. He gasped, choking as the world blurred around him. His body rocketed backward, smming into the cold stone wall with a sickening crack. The impact sent a sharp, agonizing tremor through his bones, the wind knocked from his lungs.

  Something warm trickled down the side of his head. Blood.

  He groaned, his vision spinning, the stone beneath him shifting unnaturally. The walls—no, the very foundation around him—began to move. The rock twisted, crawling like a living thing, tightening around him, encasing him.

  Trapping him.

  Cale struggled, metal screeching as it attempted to push back, but the stone was relentless, pressing tighter with every breath he took.

  His heart pounded in his chest. "Alden! What are you doing?!"

  Alden stood before him, his expression unreadable, a storm hidden beneath his gaze. His hands were clenched at his sides as if he, too, was battling something unseen within himself.

  "Just... just stay still for a while, okay?" Alden said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Cale’s body screamed in protest as the stone closed in. His chest tightened—not just from the physical restraint, but from the deeper, sharper pain sinking into his heart.

  Betrayal.

  "Why are you doing this?" Cale asked, tears streaming down his face. The betrayal cut deep, a wound that felt far worse than any physical injury. He had spent countless months training with Alden whenever Isa was away. He had trusted him. He had thought they were friends.

  Alden sighed, his voice strained. "Look, kid. I'm really sorry, but I can't just let you go."

  Cale's gaze dropped, his fists trembling.

  "I thought you were my friend, Alden," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "But it seems I was wrong."

  Alden looked at him, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, his face as rigid as the stone he controlled.

  Then, his eyes widened.

  A wall of stone shot up in front of him—just in time to block a barrage of razor-sharp metal shards hurtling toward him. The impact sent cracks rippling through the stone, but it held firm.

  Cale had made his move.

  With a roar, the stone cocoon around him exploded. Shards of rock flew in all directions as he tore free, his body surging with power. Alden turned toward him, ready to retaliate, but metal surged from the ground, forming an unbreakable wall between them.

  Cale didn't wait. He sprinted around the barrier, into the main hallway. He was at a disadvantage here—he couldn’t afford to waste any more time searching room after room. There were too many.

  If Alden caught him again, it would be over.

  He needed to move.

  The metal doors lining the hallway trembled, then ripped free from their frames, twisting and compacting, reforming into something new. A shape took form—a creature of steel and iron, standing tall and proud. A horse, its body composed of interlocking ptes, its hooves cnking against the stone floor.

  Cale leaped onto its back. With a thought, the creature surged forward, galloping down the hall at breakneck speed.

  A shimmering blue barrier materialized in front of him.

  Cale lowered himself against the cold metal, narrowing his profile. The horse smmed into the barrier and shattered it like gss. More barriers appeared, one after another, but they weren’t strong enough. He broke through them all.

  The hallway opened up—

  There. The elevator. His way out.

  A few more meters.

  Then—

  The horse froze mid-stride.

  A sickening force ripped through Cale’s body. His vision blurred, his breath caught in his throat. Pain. White-hot and searing, like molten metal had been poured directly into his veins. His bones, his brain, his heart—all of it burned.

  He was hurled from the metallic steed like a ragdoll, smming into the floor and skidding across the cold stone.

  Cale gasped, clutching his chest. Something was gripping his heart. A vice-like force squeezed, sending fresh waves of agony through his body. His muscles locked, his fingers twitching uncontrolbly.

  Footsteps. Heavy, armored footsteps.

  From the adjacent rooms, figures cd in bck metal armor emerged, weapons drawn. They moved with precision, their every step calcuted. A unit. Trained. Dangerous.

  One of them leveled a bde at him. "Move, and you will die."

  Cale’s body screamed in pain, but he pushed himself up, every muscle trembling, his breath ragged.

  His head lifted. His eyes burned with fury.

  "Get out of my way." His voice was a growl, sharp and unyielding.

  The air vibrated.

  The metal around him trembled.

  Even the bck armor of the mages hummed, responding to his presence.

  They were metal mages—but Cale’s control was stronger.

  He closed his fist.

  A deafening screech of metal filled the corridor as the armored figures were ripped from the ground. Their bodies lifted into the air, smmed together, twisting and contorting into a compressed ball of steel. Their screams echoed through the hall, desperate, furious, but Cale didn’t waver.

  With a swift wave of his hand, he hurled the massive sphere down the corridor.

  The trapped mages inside screamed, their voices muffled beneath yers of crushing metal. They fought against him, straining to resist his overwhelming control, but Cale’s will was unyielding. His body trembled from the exertion, but he held firm, guiding the sphere farther, faster—until it reached the edge of his influence.

  The moment it passed beyond his reach, the grip of his power snapped, and the metal mages were sent hurtling out of sight.

  Gone.

  Cale staggered, his breath ragged. His limbs were shaking.

  He turned, his vision swimming, and forced himself toward the elevator.

  He pressed the button on the panel, his breath ragged.

  Nothing happened.

  He pressed it again. Harder.

  Still—nothing.

  The elevator did not move.

  Cale’s heart pounded. His escape route was dead.

  'No, there was still a way out.'

  Cale’s gaze shot upward toward the ceiling of the elevator. A metal panel—his only way out—stood between him and escape.

  He cast a quick gnce down the hallway.

  "I need to move fast. Alden must be on his way here," Cale murmured through gritted teeth, forcing himself to push through the agony cwing at his body.

  With a flick of his wrist, the panel slid apart.

  He leaped, fingers gripping the edge of the opening. His muscles screamed in protest, but he hauled himself up, his body trembling as he pulled free of the elevator’s confines.

  The shaft stretched endlessly above him, a towering tunnel of darkness. Every few meters, faintly glowing stone rings lined the walls, etched with intricate runes, radiating a soft, pulsing light. The sight sent a wave of dread through him.

  'I need to keep pushing…' Cale thought, his heart hammering in his chest.

  The shaft was dozens—no, hundreds—of meters high. His breath hitched as he spotted faint blue barriers shimmering every few meters—security measures meant to prevent escape.

  His fingers twitched. 'If only I could focus more…'

  Cale gasped as pain surged through his body like molten fire.

  Under normal circumstances, he would have summoned a metal ptform, riding it upward in controlled bursts. But now? Now, he wasn’t sure if he could even hold his own body weight much longer.

  Frustration boiled inside him. He punched the side of the tunnel, his knuckles sparking as they struck the cold stone. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hand and willed a shard of the elevator’s metal to shift, twisting into a jagged spear before unching it forward.

  The stone cracked—but didn’t give.

  Cale’s eyes narrowed. He could feel something beneath the surface, just centimeters deep. Another barrier. And this one was strong.

  He took a deep breath and focused.

  The spear of metal screamed through the air, a jagged streak of silver slicing the darkness as it shot upward. Barrier after barrier shattered in its wake, each one exploding into fragments of blue energy, flickering like dying embers before fading into nothingness.

  Cale gritted his teeth, his muscles trembling as he stretched his control to its limit. When he felt the spear reaching the edge of his influence, he willed it to stop, embedding it deep into the stone wall of the shaft, anchoring it firmly.

  His left arm shifted, metal rippling like liquid, reforming with precision. The smooth surface hardened into a segmented spine, each section locking into pce like the vertebrae of a serpent.

  His only way up.

  With a sharp exhale, he hurled his arm behind him—then snapped it forward.

  The cw-shaped tip of his arm spread its metal fingers, twisting like talons, tching onto a stone ring higher up in the shaft. The moment it found purchase, he yanked himself upward, his entire body whipping through the air, propelled by sheer willpower.

  One step closer.

  Again.

  He swung, gripped, pulled. Over and over, his body aching with every motion. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum.

  His limbs felt like lead. The agony screamed at him to stop.

  But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

  When he reached the embedded metal spear, he willed it to move—

  It tore free, spiraling upward, smashing through even more barriers as it soared toward the top. Each shattered yer of protection sent a ripple of pain through him, a reminder of how much energy he was burning just to stay conscious.

  But now—

  Now, he could see it. The ceiling of the shaft. His escape.

  He reached out.

  Then—

  A sound. A deep, guttural tremor.

  The walls around him shook.

  Dust rained down from above. The air grew heavy, dense, suffocating.

  A cold feeling slithered down his spine.

  He looked down.

  Alden.

  He was rising swiftly, a floating stone ptform carrying him upward with effortless control. His silhouette was dark against the dim glow of the shaft, his expression unreadable—but Cale could feel the weight of his presence.

  His time was running out.

  Alden waved his hand, sending a barrage of stone projectiles hurtling toward Cale. They streaked through the air like bullets, the force behind them enough to shatter bone. But as they struck, the impact was dulled—the jagged shards cracked and splintered against his metal armor, unable to pierce through.

  Cale didn’t stop moving. He swung higher and higher, each motion more desperate than the st. Faster. He needed to be faster.

  His breath burned in his lungs. His arms ached from the repeated strain of pulling himself up, but he forced himself forward. His body screamed for rest, but rest meant death.

  Then—

  He reached it.

  The top of the elevator shaft.

  With a single flick of his wrist, the metal doors parted, peeling away like thin sheets of paper before him.

  Cale lunged through the opening, his boots smming against the cold stone floors of the corridor beyond. He didn’t stop to catch his breath—he ran.

  He pushed himself forward, heading straight for the main yard.

  Something was wrong.

  The corridors were empty. Silent.

  As he stepped outside through the main gates, the reason for the eerie emptiness became brutally clear.

  A trap.

  A wall of soldiers awaited him.

  A sickening realization curled in his stomach.

  Dozens of dark-armored metal mages stood in a semicircur formation, their helmets obscuring their faces, but their intent unmistakable. The air around them hummed, their presence pressing down on.

  And at the front of them stood Varra.

  She was cd in tight leather armor, her piercing gaze fixed on him like the tip of a dagger. Cold. Unyielding. Calcuting.

  Cale turned sharply, heart pounding, but before he could take a step—

  A thick wall of stone erupted from the ground, blocking his escape.

  Trapped.

  His gaze snapped upward.

  A shadow loomed over him. Something massive.

  Alden stood on a floating stone ptform, arms folded, looking down at him. His expression was unreadable, but Cale could feel the weight of his decision in his stare.

  No escape. No way out.

  Cale’s breath came in shuddering gasps.

  But then—

  The metal embedded within the castle trembled.

  With a low screech, it began to rip itself free, floating through the air, drawn to him like shards of a shattered bde returning to its master. Sbs of iron, broken chains, splinters of reinforced steel—all of it hovered at his side, forming a silent arsenal.

  His fingers curled. His shoulders squared.

  I am a hero.

  A hero never falters—not even when he knows he will lose.

  Varra took a step forward, her movements measured, her posture unwavering.

  In her hands, two bluish, ethereal bdes flickered to life, the edges gleaming with barely-contained power.

  "This is your st warning." Her voice was firm, steady. "Stop resisting, and you won’t be hurt."

  For a moment, Cale simply stared at her.

  Then, he shook his head. Slowly. Resolutely.

  Varra's eyes darkened. She raised her scimitar.

  And then—she dashed forward.