The freezing fog rolling off the Reignn river slowly seeped into the old Ironworks, wrapping its cold tendrils around the rusted metal pillars. Devin remained perfectly still on the blood-slicked concrete. He didn't shiver. The thick, dark Cyprian venom in Zain Ricky's veins kept his core temperature unnaturally high, a mocking reminder of the biological monster keeping him alive.
He stared at Kevin's lifeless eyes. The silence in the cavernous factory was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, hollow dripping of a ruptured alchemical vat.
Clank.
The heavy iron loading doors groaned, protesting against their rusted hinges.
Devin didn't turn his head. He didn't reach for the gutting knife resting mere inches from his knee. He simply sat there, utterly defeated, waiting for the reaper.
Footsteps echoed across the factory floor. They were measured, impossibly light for a man, completely lacking the heavy, arrogant thud of the Pale Hounds.
A shadow fell over Kevin's body.
Lotjed stood there. He was draped in a heavy, dark gray traveling cloak that seemed to actively absorb the dim alchemical light. In his left hand, he carried a dense, black canvas duffel bag. His ancient, scarred face was a mask of carved stone.
The former Royal Cleaner didn't gasp. He didn't ask what happened. His sharp, calculating eyes swept the room with terrifying, clinical precision. He registered the three dead syndicate enforcers. He noted the shattered distillation vat. He looked at the half-filled, glowing vials of sub-human blood resting on the wooden tables.
Finally, Lotjed looked down at his grandson.
Devin was kneeling in a pool of gore, completely drenched in crimson. The arrogant, untouchable 8.5 Star UEI student was gone. The vengeful Prince of Trangdar was gone. There was only a broken boy staring into the abyss.
"I didn't want to," Devin whispered, his raspy voice cracking, entirely stripped of emotion. "I came to save him. I tore them apart to save him. But when he ran at me... he was behind me, Lotjed. The venom smelled the anomaly. It smelled the Holy Gene."
Devin slowly lifted his blood-stained hands, staring at his palms as if they belonged to a stranger.
"I didn't even think," Devin choked out. "The body just reacted. It swung the knife on its own. I was trapped inside my own head while it slaughtered an innocent boy."
Lotjed remained silent for a long, heavy moment. He stepped forward and dropped the heavy canvas duffel onto the concrete with a dull thud.
"Autonomous biological override," Lotjed stated, his voice flat and analytical. "A proximity trigger hardwired into the nervous system. Count Sapien has refined his weapons far beyond what our spies reported."
"I can't control it," Devin said, looking up at his grandfather with desperate, haunted eyes. "If I go back to the academy... if Fenrys touches my shoulder, or if I bump into another sub-human in the halls... I'll kill them, Lotjed. I'll slaughter my best friends before I can even blink."
"Stand up," Lotjed commanded.
It wasn't a gentle request. It was the sharp, unyielding bark of a military commander.
Devin slowly pushed himself off the cold floor. His legs felt heavy, entirely drained of the euphoric, venom-fueled energy that had carried him through the massacre.
"Strip," Lotjed ordered, unzipping the heavy duffel bag.
Devin didn't argue. He peeled off Zain's ruined, blood-soaked woven jacket and tossed it onto the floor. He pulled off his canvas shirt, standing bare-chested in the freezing factory air.
Lotjed pulled a folded pile of dark, unassuming commoner clothes from the bag and tossed them to Devin. "Put those on. Keep your head down. And do not look at the boy again."
While Devin dressed, Lotjed went to work. The sheer, terrifying efficiency of the old man was a masterclass in subterfuge.
Lotjed pulled three heavy, glass flasks filled with a viscous, clear liquid from his bag. He walked over to the bodies of the Pale Hounds. Without a shred of hesitation, he unstoppered the flasks and poured the liquid over the corpses.
The reaction was instantaneous. The clear liquid hit the flesh and immediately began to hiss, boiling violently. A thick, acrid white smoke rapidly filled the air, smelling intensely of burning sulfur and lye. The bone, flesh, and heavy leather aprons of the syndicate enforcers began to rapidly, sickeningly dissolve into a dark, bubbling sludge.
Devin watched, horrified, as Lotjed turned and walked toward Kevin's body.
"Wait," Devin stepped forward, his hand instinctively reaching out. "Lotjed, no. He's innocent. He deserves a burial. He has a mother waiting for him across the hall."
Lotjed stopped. He turned his head, his ancient eyes locking onto Devin with a fierce, burning intensity that pinned the prince in place.
"Tears do not wash away blood, Devin," Lotjed said softly, his voice cutting through the hiss of the dissolving bodies. "You are playing a game of absolute survival against the most ruthless minds in the North. If the city guard finds this boy's body here, surrounded by dissolved syndicate muscle, they will lock down the district. They will sweep Marinakas. They will find Zain Ricky."
Lotjed raised the flask, holding it firmly over Kevin's chest.
"If you want to be a King, you must learn to bury your mistakes in the dark," Lotjed finished.
He tilted the flask.
Devin turned his head away, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. He listened to the horrific, violent hissing of the alchemical acid. He listened as the last physical evidence of his monstrous failure was entirely erased from the world.
Ten minutes later, the Ironworks was completely empty.
There were no bodies. There were only faint, dark stains on the concrete that looked like spilled industrial grease. Lotjed had shattered the glowing vials of stolen blood, washing them down the rusted floor drains with a bucket of river water.
"Follow me," Lotjed said, slinging the empty duffel over his shoulder.
They left the factory, stepping back out into the freezing fog. They didn't head toward the main thoroughfares of Reignn. They didn't head back to Zain's apartment in the slums.
Lotjed led Devin deep into the Undercity.
They navigated a complex, dizzying maze of subterranean maintenance tunnels, forgotten aqueducts, and collapsed brick walkways. The air grew progressively staler, heavy with the scent of damp earth and ancient mold.
Finally, Lotjed stopped before a solid, rusted iron grate set into a stone archway. He produced a heavy brass key, unlocked the grate, and pushed it open.
Devin stepped inside.
It was a small, windowless underground cellar. It was entirely barren, save for a single, heavy wooden chair bolted directly to the center of the stone floor. Heavy, iron chains with thick wrist and ankle cuffs were securely attached to the arms and legs of the chair. A single, flickering alchemical lantern hung from the low ceiling, casting long, menacing shadows across the damp brick walls.
"Sit," Lotjed instructed, tossing his duffel into the corner.
Devin stared at the heavy iron chains. A cold knot of apprehension tightened in his stomach.
"What is this place?" Devin asked, his raspy voice echoing slightly in the cramped stone room.
"This is a crucible," Lotjed replied, walking over to the heavy wooden chair. "You correctly identified the flaw in your vessel, Devin. If you return to Dr. Langstrum right now, you are nothing but a puppet. If you return to the UEI, you will inevitably slaughter your friends."
Lotjed turned to face him, his expression entirely devoid of grandfatherly warmth.
"The Cyprian venom controls the central nervous system," Lotjed explained clinically. "It waits for the biological trigger, and it autonomously overrides your royal consciousness to execute the kill. You cannot out-think it. You cannot rationalize with it."
"Then what do I do?" Devin demanded, stepping closer to the chair. "How do I stop it?"
"You don't stop it," Lotjed said. He reached into his dark cloak and pulled out a single, perfectly intact glass vial.
It glowed faintly in the dim light. It was a vial of pure, undiluted sub-human blood, carefully salvaged from the Alchemist's table before the cleanup.
"You break it," Lotjed finished.
Devin stared at the glowing vial. The absolute second his eyes registered the dark, anomaly-rich blood, the venom in Zain's veins violently flared. A sudden, massive spike of adrenaline hit Devin's heart, a primal, roaring demand to consume. His pupils dilated rapidly, swallowing the amber irises in a sea of solid, fathomless obsidian.
"Sit in the chair, Devin," Lotjed ordered, his voice echoing with lethal authority.
Devin fought the dark urge to lunge at the old man's throat. His muscles trembled violently, corded and tense. He forced his heavy legs to move, taking three agonizing steps forward, and collapsed heavily into the wooden chair.
Lotjed didn't waste a single second. He moved with lightning speed, grabbing the thick iron cuffs and ratcheting them securely around Devin's wrists and ankles. The heavy locks clicked shut with a harsh, metallic finality.
Devin strained against the chains immediately. The metal groaned under the sheer, unnatural strength of the sleeper agent, but the heavy bolts driven deep into the stone floor held firm.
"What are you doing?" Devin gritted out through clenched teeth, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The scent of the blood in the vial was suffocating. It was driving the monster absolutely insane.
"To beat the venom, you must sever the mind's reliance on the chemical response," Lotjed said calmly. He set the glowing vial on a small stone shelf directly in Devin's line of sight. "We are going to forcefully trigger the autonomy, over and over again, until your royal soul learns how to hold the leash."
Lotjed stepped back, pulling a heavy, wooden baton from his belt.
"The transition will not be peaceful," the Royal Cleaner warned, his eyes darkening. "Count Sapien spent twenty years programming this body to kill. I have exactly three days to break it."
Devin yanked violently against the iron chains, a low, feral snarl ripping through his throat. The prince was entirely submerged. The Cyprian beast was awake, furious, and trapped.
"Begin," Lotjed said softly to the dark room.
And the torture began.