"Nothing." Thomas said simply. "Nothing would happen if you declined, princess. I am not here to give commands, only to offer counsel."

Ines turned slightly to look at him. "Then speak your counsel plainly, Premier."

He inclined his head. "My only wish is that King Cillian's legacy not be stained by fear and ignorance."

"The kingdom mourns him, yes, but they also whisper. They whisper that the king fell because of corruption, that his hybrid blood turned him into something unholy before the end. I would see that rumor silenced."

Her expression didn't shift, but the way her shoulders tensed showed that his words had struck something.

"You want me to tell them otherwise?" she asked.

"I want you to tell them the truth," Thomas replied. "That those who fought beside him that night, the hybrids, were not monsters, but men. That they fought with their sanity intact, with loyalty to the crown and kingdom. That they bleed and die as we all do."

Ines was quiet, studying him with those piercing eyes. "What is it you truly want me to do, Thomas?"

He met her gaze evenly. "Declare it publicly. As your father's heir, your word carries power."

"I want you to announce that the hybrids who fought in the battle are heroes of Camelot. That they do not spread any disease or corruption. That they are simply enhanced, stronger, faster, and tougher, but still human."

Her brow furrowed slightly. "You want me to bless their existence."

"I want you to preserve your father's honor," he said softly. "Cillian was one of us, in the end. If we allow the world to treat hybrids as demons, then they will say the same of him."

He paused. "Do you want your father remembered as a hero… or as a beast who lost his mind?"

Silence filled the air. For a long while, neither spoke.

Ines's fingers tightened at her sides. She wanted to argue, to resist. But deep down, she knew Thomas was right.

The people loved her father. They would not accept the truth of what he became unless she commanded them to.

Still, she didn't trust Thomas. She never had.

Finally, she turned to him, her voice calm but distant. "Alright. Do it. If you believe this so strongly, make the declaration in my name."

Thomas studied her face for a long moment. Then, slowly, he bowed. "As you wish, Your Highness."

She waved her hand dismissively, her gaze returning to the golden armor before her. "Leave me."

He straightened, offered another polite bow, and turned to go.

The doors closed behind him, leaving her alone in the hall with the body of her father.

For a long while, she didn't move.

Then, softly, she whispered, "What would you have done, Father?"

But only silence answered her.

[][][][][]

The capital's lower districts were a maze of ruins.

Arlo moved through one of its narrow alleys, his hood drawn low, ignoring the destruction spread around him.

He soon stopped before what remained of a collapsed building. It was a former tavern with its roof caved in and walls blackened by fire.

To anyone else, it was just another ruin. To Arlo, it was a door.

He slipped inside through a narrow gap in the wall, his steps soundless.

The interior was dark, the faint light from the street unable to pierce the gloom.

He walked towards the back of the building, moving past overturned tables and charred beams, until he found a section of the floor that looked different. To his eyesight at least.

He knelt, running his hand along the wood. A hidden handle gave way beneath his touch.

With a faint creak, the panel lifted, revealing a set of stone steps leading down into darkness.

Arlo descended.

The air grew colder with every step. The stench of mold and earth filled his lungs, and soon the faint light from above vanished completely.

He stopped, then reached up and untied the blindfold wrapped around his head. The black cloth fell away, fluttering softly to the ground.

His eyes opened.

Brilliant green light flared softly within them, like twin gems catching fire. The world around him shifted instantly.

The darkness vanished.

In its place, he saw everything. The tunnel walls, the spiderwebs clinging to the ceiling, even the faint trails of footsteps glowing faintly on the floor.

His eyes did not see light. They saw reality.

And reality, here, told him the path was true.

He walked forward confidently, his movements sure. The catacombs twisted and turned, branching into narrow corridors.

He was close.

He could feel it.

The path ended at a heavy iron door half-buried in stone. He pushed it open silently and stepped inside.

The chamber beyond was larger than he expected. The ceiling was low, supported by stone arches.

Several rough wooden beds lined the walls, each occupied by sleeping figures. Men, dozens of them, dressed in dark robes with the insignia of a coiled serpent embroidered on their shoulders.

Arlo's jaw tightened. His hand brushed his spatial ring, and a dagger appeared in his grip.

He moved without hesitation.

He passed one bed, then another, plunging the blade into the throats of the sleeping men. None woke. None cried out. The only sound was the wet whisper of steel sliding through flesh.

When he reached the far end of the chamber, he found a larger bed, covered with cleaner sheets. A single man slept there, his hair streaked with gray, his robes finer than the rest.

Arlo stopped beside him, pressing the cold edge of the knife against the man's throat.

The man's eyes snapped open, panic filling them. He tried to move, but Arlo's free hand held him down easily.

"Don't struggle," Arlo said quietly. "If you answer my question, you'll live. If you lie, you'll die."

The man's lips trembled. "W— what do you want?"

Arlo's eyes glowed brighter, the green light reflecting off the steel. "Tell me who the Lady in Dark is."

The man froze, eyes darting nervously. "I— I don't know—"

Arlo's hand pressed harder. The blade nicked skin. A bead of blood ran down the man's neck.

"Lie again," Arlo said softly, "and I'll know."

The man gasped, trembling. "Please! I'll tell you! I'll tell you what I know!"

Arlo waited.

"She's… she's our High Priestess," the man stammered. "The leader of our faith."

"We call her the Lady in Dark, because she communes with the Abyss itself. She's said to be all-powerful. But that's all I know, I swear it!"

Arlo's eyes flickered. The green glow deepened, threads of light shifting across his irises as they read the truth in the man's soul.

He wasn't lying. Not completely.

But there was more.

"High Priestess?" Arlo repeated.

The man nodded quickly. "Y— yes. We call ourselves the Reunifiers. Our creed is the merging of flesh and Abyss. The uniting of man and beast."

"We seek the day when all will become one eternal consciousness. The Lady guides us towards that end."

Arlo raised an eyebrow. "The Reunifiers."

The man nodded again, desperate. "We believe that the Abyss is not corruption, it is perfection. The blending of human will and abyssal power. Soon, we will all transcend—"

Arlo's expression hardened, though his voice stayed calm. "Enough preaching."

The man fell silent, swallowing hard.

Arlo leaned closer, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Tell me more about…"

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