The darkness of the cabin was suffocating.
Urano woke up suddenly, his breath broken by a muffled scream.
His heart pounded in his chest, as if it wanted to explode inside him.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened.
For days now, every time he closed his eyes, Karna was there, waiting for him.
He saw him everywhere.
The claws that tore into his flesh, the twisted grin on that demonic face, the insinuating whisper that blended with the sound of the waves.
A whisper that never stopped, not even when he was awake.
He staggered in the dark, grabbing the edge of the table to avoid falling.
His wounds burned as if they were still open, pulsating, alive.
He approached the mirror and forced himself to look at his reflection.
His skin was pale, his eyes sunken with red circles.
He lifted the bandage on his shoulder and saw the black scars stretching like sick roots.
Those wounds weren’t healing.
No, something worse.
He grabbed a bottle of liquor from the table and brought it to his lips with trembling hands.
The glass clinked against his teeth as he took a long drink, letting the fire of the alcohol burn his throat.
A noise.
He spun around, breath short.
Nothing. Just the shadow of his own fear reflected in the mirror.
But he was sure he had heard something.
He ran a hand over his face and turned, finding Aton standing in the doorway of the cabin.
His face was impassive, arms crossed.
He was staring at him with the usual impenetrable calm.
Urano gritted his teeth.
"What the hell do you want?" he growled, his voice hoarse from the alcohol and broken sleep.
Aton looked at him for a few seconds, then, with his usual slowness, spoke cold and cutting words:
"A man who lets himself be consumed by his nightmares no longer has control over anything, not even his own death."
Urano felt rage explode inside him.
He took a step toward Aton, but he didn’t move.
No need to.
Urano had been reduced to a shadow of himself, and Aton knew it.
In the end, Urano was the one to look away.
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, took another drink from the bottle, and walked away without saying anything else.
The ship’s cell was damp and cramped, the wooden walls soaked with the salty smell of the sea.
Love was curled up in a corner, her head resting on her shoulder, her eyes half-closed.
Her body was covered in bruises and cuts, her clothes torn into dirty shreds stained with dried blood.
Her wrists were chained to the wall, the skin reddened and marked by the cold metal that bound her.
Ayperi floated beside her, its light flickering in the shadow of the hold.
"Little lost one..." it whispered, its voice thin as the wind.
But Love didn’t respond.
She breathed quietly, silently, letting exhaustion wrap around her.
Ayperi moved closer, trying to offer her some warmth.
Then the door suddenly swung open with a violent crack.
Urano stormed in like a tempest, swaying slightly, but his eyes burning with furious fire.
The smell of alcohol followed him, pungent and thick.
His eyes, swollen and red, locked onto her with visceral hate.
"Whore."
The word left his mouth with a venom that pierced Love’s chest more than any chain.
But she didn’t have time to respond.
Urano stepped forward, grabbed her by the chin, and lifted her face, gripping hard.
"Look at what you’ve done.
Look at what you are."
She stared at him with dead eyes, not reacting.
The slap came like a lightning strike.
Love’s head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.
Ayperi flinched but could do nothing.
"Because of you, so many have died."
Another slap.
"Because of you, I am like this."
Another slap.
"You don’t deserve to be in this world."
The world spun around her.
Pain was everywhere, but she no longer had the strength to react.
Urano let her go with a violent shove, spat on the ground, and turned toward the door.
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"Enjoy these last days, abomination. Your show will end soon."
And with a violent slam, he closed the door behind him, leaving her in the solitude of her cell, with the taste of blood on her lips and Ayperi’s eyes watching her, full of silent despair.
The salty air of the sea crept into the hold, bringing with it the smell of seaweed and brine.
The dull sound of the anchor plunging into deep waters marked the end of the journey.
Through the small grate of the cell, Love could only see a sliver of clear sky as the ship approached the shore.
The noise of seagulls grew louder, mingling with the hurried voices of the crew moving frantically on deck.
Urano and Aton appeared on the ship’s deck, their bodies still marked by the battle.
Urano’s armor, despite the hasty repairs, was stained with congealed blood.
His face was gaunt, with deep circles under his eyes, and his breath was labored.
Aton, on the other hand, remained impassive, fresh bandages wrapped around his torso, his stern face turned toward the city rising on the horizon.
Fendris.
From the ship, the city appeared like a jewel nestled along the coast, a stretch of tall, slender buildings with golden roofs gleaming in the morning sun.
The streets were paved with white stone, perfectly clean, and long lines of merchants wound through the harbor, beneath crimson and gold banners waving elegantly in the wind.
The ships docked at the piers were of a refinement surpassing any other port in Elysium: sleek vessels decorated with carved mythological figures at the bow, sails painted with aristocratic symbols.
Fendris was not a city for common folk.
The port, vast and perfectly organized, was teeming with servants carrying crates of spices, silk, and fragments of the Aeternum.
The city guards wore decorated armor, their weapons polished to reflect the sunlight.
Even the sailors, men who elsewhere would be covered in salt and fatigue, moved with composure, their uniforms in perfect order, with not a single strand of carelessness.
When the gangplank was lowered, Urano’s soldiers began to disembark, maintaining a rigid formation.
Soon after, Love was dragged from her cell.
Her wrists were still shackled, her legs weak from the long imprisonment.
The sun hit her full in the face, forcing her to close her eyes for a moment.
Her hair, matted with dried blood, hung in disheveled strands over her gaunt cheeks. It was a pitiful sight in a city like this.
A man dressed in a golden-embroidered tunic approached the soldiers, eyeing the prisoner with a raised eyebrow, as if her mere presence was a stain on the city’s purity.
"Is this the... creature?" he asked haughtily, addressing Urano.
The emissary merely gave him a disgusted glance before pushing Love forward without a word.
The procession began, moving down the gangplank with Love escorted at the center, the chains clinking with every step she took.
Every eye was on her.
The noblewomen, dressed in fine fabrics, covered their mouths with silk fans, watching her with a mix of curiosity and revulsion.
The nobles, leaning from marble balconies of inns and trade halls, whispered to one another, commenting on the scene with condescending glances.
Love lowered her gaze, feeling like an animal on display.
Beside her, Ayperi floated invisibly to most, its gaze filled with anger and sorrow.
"Little lost one..." it murmured, but its voice was lost in the clamor of the soldiers’ boots on the cobblestones.
The high sun in the sky reflected the cruel irony of the situation: they were crossing Elysium’s wealthiest city, but Love was nothing but a wretched trophy displayed before a crowd that would never know misery, fear, or suffering.
As the procession wound through the main streets of Fendris, the caravan of carriages waiting to take them to the capital awaited further ahead, but for Love, the journey had only just begun.
The chains on her wrists rang with a dull clinking as the soldiers roughly pushed her toward the carriage.
The crowd of Fendris, now gathered on either side of the street, watched her with a mix of disgust and morbid curiosity.
Whispers were incessant, a venomous murmur accompanying every step she took.
Love did not raise her eyes.
Her legs gave way with each movement, and her arms were stiff from the pain.
She tasted the metallic blood still fresh on her split lips.
The wounds Urano had inflicted with such ease on the ship continued to burn.
The black, imposing carriage waited. It resembled more a mobile cage than a means of transport: heavy bars replaced the walls, leaving her body exposed to the eyes.
Urano approached with a twisted, cruel smile.
His figure was unstable, his body marked from the battle with Karna.
His bandages covered his torso, but his breath was irregular, sweat beading on his forehead, and his eyes, veiled by exhaustion and alcohol, burned with a sickly intensity.
"Look at the lovely little cage I’ve prepared for you, whore," he hissed, his voice thick.
He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the carriage.
Love let out a cry of pain but didn’t react.
She no longer had the strength.
Urano threw her inside without a second thought.
Her back hit the hard surface of the floor with a dull thud.
Before she could get back up, he entered the carriage, deliberately stepping on her with his heavy boots.
"Oh, forgive me," he chuckled, "my feet have a knack for ending up where they shouldn’t."
Love gritted her teeth, weakly clenching her fists, her breath shallow.
Urano crouched next to her, his rough fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"Tell me, whore, what does it feel like to be the failure of your entire race?" he whispered with a twisted grin.
His eyes were empty. Madness seeped into every word, every gesture.
"You were born to be the damnation of your kind, Love.
Look at what you’ve done.
You’ve condemned all those who touched you.
You’ve brought death to anyone who crossed your path."
He let go of her chin with a sudden snap, making her head hit the wood.
"You deserve to be torn apart right here and now," he snarled.
"But no… I’ll let you rot in terror. You won’t die right away.
Oh no.
I’ll let you watch. I’ll make you see what happens to those who dare challenge the gods.
I want you to know there will be no one to mourn you."
A bitter laugh shook him, and he ran a trembling hand through his hair.
His fingers scratched his forehead, leaving thin, red marks.
Love curled up in the corner of the carriage, wrapping her arms around her body.
Her skin burned wherever it had touched.
Fear was a knot in her throat, a suffocating weight that kept her chained more than the chains around her wrists.
Urano laughed once more, then staggered to his feet and exited, slamming the iron door shut behind him.
Silence fell within the carriage.
A soft rustling broke the stillness.
"Little lost one…"
Ayperi.
Its faint light floated beside her, enveloping her in a soft glow. Its expression was filled with pain and helplessness.
"Don’t listen to him.
Those aren’t words from a sane man.
He’s just a wreck, an empty shell desperately trying to fill his own nothingness with the pain of others."
Love didn’t answer.
She felt her heartbeat in her ears, her breathing irregular.
Ayperi lowered itself, resting beside her, as though offering her an invisible embrace.
"You’re not alone," it murmured gently.
"You never were.
No matter what that beast says, you’re not the failure of anyone."
Love’s tears silently slid down her dirty cheeks.
She didn’t speak, didn’t move a muscle.
But she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the gentle voice of her only friend lull her.
The caravan moved forward, raising a cloud of dust as the black horses advanced through the paved streets of Fendris.
The sound of the carriage wheels echoed between the refined buildings, blending with the murmur of the crowd gathered along the road to witness the passing of the prisoner.
Love remained still in her corner, chained inside the cage-like carriage.
The wood creaked with every jolt, and the cold metal bars pressed against her skin.
Her head throbbed with pain, her body weakened by wounds and fatigue.
Outside, the sun shone high, reflecting off the golden domes and marble towers of the city, a cruel contrast to the darkness oppressing her.
The world continued to flow indifferently, as if her tragedy were just a spectacle for the curious eyes of Fendris’s inhabitants.
"Little lost one…"
Ayperi’s ethereal voice reached her barely, a whisper amid the city’s clamor. Its light flickered beside her, pale and melancholic.
"You don’t have to give up. This is not yet your destiny."
Love slowly opened her eyes, but didn’t respond.
The energy to speak had left her, every breath a battle against the pain.
The carriage jolted violently over a stone, making her slam her shoulder against the wood.
She clenched her teeth to keep from groaning.
An awkward, hysterical laugh came from the carriage in front of hers.
Urano.
Love felt herself freeze.
From where he was sitting, her tormentor could clearly see her through the bars.
He stared at her with bloodshot, feverish eyes, his face twisted in a crazed grin.
He had a flask in his hand, the amber liquid trembling slightly as he twirled it with his fingers.
"I see you, little whore," he mumbled, bringing the flask to his lips.
He drank incessantly, yet he never seemed satisfied.
"You’re not very talkative today… Too busy whining, huh?"
Love remained silent, her face hidden in the shadow.
Urano tilted his head, observing her with a mix of amusement and disdain.
"You know, the more I look at you, the more I wonder…
How the hell did a filthy creature like you make the world tremble?"
Another graceless laugh.
Then his expression suddenly changed.
He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, his breath suddenly irregular.
"But of course..." he whispered, as if he had had an epiphany.
"You never had any power.
It was the others who gave you power.
Those who yielded to your filthy existence, who were fucked by your damned flesh and lost everything.
It was their sin, not yours."
His eyes became glassy, his pupils dilated. He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her.
Then, in an instant, the grin disappeared from his face.
Urano grabbed his head with both hands, staggering inside the carriage.
The flask fell to the ground, spilling the liquid onto the floorboards.
"No... No, no, no..." he started muttering between his teeth, his muscles tense like cords about to snap.
Love watched him with tired but attentive eyes.
Her lips barely moved. "…What do you see?"
Urano stopped dead.
He lifted his gaze toward her, and for a moment, all that was in his eyes was terror.
"Karna," he hissed. "I see him everywhere."
He pressed a hand to his chest, panting like a man drowning.
He spun suddenly to face his own reflection in the carriage’s shiny wall and took a step back, as though seeing a monster.
Then, without warning, he struck the glass with a fist.
The sound of the broken glass echoed in the air.
Aton, riding beside the caravan, turned slightly, observing Urano with an impassive expression.
"Everything okay, Urano?" he asked, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Urano took a few seconds to regain control.
He ran a trembling hand over his face, then turned to Aton, trying to force a crooked smile.
"I’m doing great," he lied.
Aton didn’t respond. He just stared at him with his cold, penetrating gaze before returning to watch the road ahead of them.
Love watched him.
He was the only one who hadn’t mistreated her until now.
But that didn’t make him an ally.
Love closed her eyes and clenched her chained wrists.
She felt Ayperi approach again, its intangible warmth trying to offer her impossible comfort.
"Stay with me, little lost one," it whispered.
"Don’t let them drag you into the abyss with them."
Love didn’t respond.
The caravan moved forward, and with each meter traveled, it brought her closer to death.