Deep beneath the heart of the pace, a pce that should never have existed.

  It held more silenced truths than the cries it produced.

  Not many knew of it, not even the pace guards themselves. Everything happened behind the curtain.

  This time, one of the torture chambers had a special guest: the girl of light.

  No one knew how long she had been imprisoned in that suffocating room. Her mouth no longer made a sound, only the growl of an empty stomach haunted the silence.

  “Mama… help me…” Yoei whimpered, her hand pressing against her rumbling belly.

  She leaned against the sealed door, hoping someone would open it and wake her from this nightmare.

  But time only drove her mad. Hunger gnawed at her sanity, and it seemed no knight would ever come to rescue her, unlike the stories she had always heard.

  The scurrying of rats in the darkness never faded. With each passing moment, more and more gathered, as though waiting for the feast their master had promised.

  One curious rat climbed onto Yoei’s palm. Finding warmth, the small creature stayed still, unaware that her fingers were slowly curling around it, holding it in pce.

  What it received was not a gentle touch, but a merciless grip. The rat shrieked in panic, its legs filing, its teeth biting desperately, begging for freedom.

  The other rats startled, their steps scattering in chaos as if trying to call for help. But it was useless. Slowly, Yoei lifted the pitiful creature to her face.

  “Forgive me, little creature… don’t hold a grudge against me, okay…” she wept softly, fully aware of what she was about to do.

  And without a farewell, Yoei’s mouth smothered its cries. At once, the rest of the rats fell silent.

  Stillness. No more commotion.

  Only the sound of someone savoring something in the dark remained. At times, the crack of breaking bones pierced the silence.

  Everything happened in the pitch bck. No one could see the horror of what Yoei had done to the little creature.

  “Not enough…” her hands now groped in the dark, searching for the other rats.

  One by one were caught and met the same miserable end as the ones before.

  Just before she could catch the ninth rat, her hand first touched something—it felt like a human hand.

  She traced upward, finding the head of a man still breathing. Startled, Yoei screamed and quickly pulled her hand away.

  “Please… reach out your hand again…” came the voice of a man from within the darkness. His tone shattered, as if his voice had been stolen away.

  “Why should I trust someone I can’t even see?!” Yoei replied, her voice echoing in the sealed chamber.

  “Would I really ask for help from someone who just took the life of an innocent rat?!” the man shot back.

  The rats began squeaking again, as though siding with the mysterious man.

  With hesitation, Yoei’s hand once more reached out to touch the cold arm, her lips tightly sealed.

  “Hold my hand. We’re both freezing… I can make fire, but I need your mana,” he added, his voice weaker than before.

  Without any protest, Yoei easily trusted the man, following his instructions even though her heart screamed against it.

  “Exhaurire animam arcana, transire in corpus meum; robur suum fiat robur meum!” the man hastily chanted, gripping Yoei’s hand ever tighter.

  Her scream filled the entire chamber. That mana transfer was not merely a sharing—it was also the theft of her memories.

  “No wonder you’re so obedient—”

  Suddenly the man vomited, as though the memories he obtained from Yoei were cursed.

  “Forgive me, I just didn’t expect… you’re so disgusting!” the man protested, his breathing ragged.

  Yoei remained silent, listening to all his ramblings, broken up by harsh coughing fits.

  “A dying man should not talk too much… or you’ll end up like those rats in my belly!” Yoei cut in, her voice restrained as if battling with what sanity she had left.

  “Now, quickly make the fire you promised.” she added.

  Slowly, the man released Yoei’s hand, raised his own, and prepared to chant.

  “Ex tenebris et cinere, fmma orior!”

  At once, a small fme appeared, floating above his filthy hand. Its light revealed the mystery hidden within the darkness of the room.

  Corpses. Bones. Even the remains of rats still scattered.

  Yoei’s figure was now visible—her hands drenched in blood, her skin growing ever paler. Her mouth was stained red with blood, her eyes empty and hollow.

  Beside her y a man cd in a silver robe, soaked in blood. His neck still bore the damage caused by someone’s cruelty.

  “Do you recognize me, Lady Yoei?” the man asked, a thin smile curling on his ruined lips.

  “You…”

  “Yes! I’m Torv—”

  His mouth was suddenly silenced by Yoei’s hand; he could only struggle feebly, trying to move his weakened limbs.

  “You don’t get to call me disgusting, you corpse!” Yoei muttered.

  Provoked by her words, the man bit down on the bloodied hand, leaving a deep mark.

  Yoei reacted by ripping her hand away from his bite, her jaw cmped shut against the searing pain.

  Before he could draw a third breath, a barrage of kicks from Yoei nded perfectly across his face.

  In his battered state, the man was forced to take each blow as his teeth began to crack under the assault.

  “Why don’t you just die?!” Yoei snapped; she stopped kicking once the count reached seven.

  “Nghhhh…” the man groaned, his breath shallow.

  “You’re just like everyone here—so cruel!” he yelled at Yoei, yet the fme in his hand still burned as if nothing had happened.

  “So why did you bite—”

  “What did you expect to do when faced with that situation, huh?! Stay silent and take it all?!” the man’s voice peaked; exhaustion crept in and the fire in his palm began to wane.

  Yoei fell silent at his words. Her legs could no longer hold her; she simply stared at the cold floor.

  Slowly she opened her mouth, hair falling over her face like a white waterfall, hiding her expression.

  “That silver robe… that scar on your cheek… even your ugly smile. I remember it all…” Yoei said, her small voice carrying across the still room.

  “Aren’t you the leader of the Angel Hands Division?” Yoei asked shyly, crimson eyes peeking through the curtain of hair.

  “But I forgot your name…” she added.

  “Names don’t matter to those whose presence goes unvalued,” the man replied, his gaze fixed on the only light that illuminated them.

  Yoei exhaled, fingers pying with the bones beside her like a child. She bowed her head as she listened to his rambling.

  “So why did you end up like this, unnamed sir?” she asked.

  “Why should you care about me? Can you—” the man’s words cut off completely as the sound of bone cracking echoed from Yoei’s hand—a hand once known as a symbol of life…

  “Entertain me with your story. Your weak body can’t even move its legs,” Yoei ordered sharply, her tone leaning toward Suna’s.

  The man offered a small, practiced smile, as if he already knew how this would end.

  “Very well, if that is your command, Lady Yoei.”

  “But before that, I’m curious about what you said earlier,” he paused, watching Yoei skillfully stack tiny bones into a tower.

  “Have you ever truly understood what you just said, Lady Yoei?”

  He fell silent, waiting for an answer from the girl who had been so violent moments before.

  “I haven’t lost the use of my legs because my body is weak; let us say both simply fell when Mira dragged me into this hellish chamber,” he said, the veins in his neck taut remembering what had happened.

  “You could say I betrayed the hypocritical Kingdom of Altheria,” he added.

  Beside Yoei, the bone tower had risen to shoulder height.

  “Betrayal…” Yoei repeated, like a child learning a new word.

  “And what follows after that?” she asked, beginning another tower.

  “What follows is bloodshed, hatred, and the desire to destroy those who no longer walk with me!” the man replied gleefully, like a child boasting of some accomplishment.

  Silence fell as he stopped speaking; only the sound of bones being stacked broke the quiet.

  “I don’t understand half of what you say,” Yoei said, blurring the silence.

  The man chuckled softly, then exhaled a heavy breath that disturbed Yoei’s concentration.

  “In other words, the sughter at the market and Valoric’s son’s death were my doing,” he confessed, spilling everything in front of the unstable girl.

  “Valoric’s son? You mean—” her hand froze midair, eyes narrowing on the man’s unyielding smile.

  “Yes! Kaelion Otorath. A young man of misfortune whose voice I borrowed—since mine was shattered by the devils of this kingdom!” he decred loudly; his words echoed through the chamber and repeated themselves in Yoei’s ears.

  The man’s grin faded into a look of surprise at Yoei’s coldness—so different from when he had bitten her.

  “Hey, you little demon!” he shouted at Yoei.

  “Where did that care for human life go? Wasn’t Kaelion so meaningful to you?!” he challenged, unaware he’d already lost control.

  Suddenly Yoei’s shoulders trembled—not from fear, but from ughter. Amid chaos, she preserved pace etiquette, pressing the back of her right hand to her mouth.

  “Oh? The devil who drove Man from paradise himself?” Yoei said.

  “What are you talking about, you crazy!” the man protested.

  “Let’s say I’m thinking of ways to make your death meaningful, like the ones you killed,” her ughter faded, leaving a breath thick with a vicious pn.

  “Manus Mea, Frange Fines Carnis!” Yoei chanted. Immediately her right hand turned a pale bluish hue, cold as moonlight.

  The man’s eyes widened—he knew the suffering Yoei would inflict. His mouth gaped, but no words came.

  “Oh, look! Who’s the frightened little human now, hm?” Yoei mocked cheerfully. A symbol glowed on the back of her right hand, identical to the one on the man’s robe.

  “You taught me this magic, remember?” Yoei said, stepping toward him, handling her limbs like a cook with a knife.

  “Of course!” the man stammered, trembling.

  “But I never taught you destructive sorcery!” he added, trying to rise. But it was useless—his limbs no longer obeyed. The fme in his hand sputtered.

  “You said Curamancy depends on the user’s intent, didn’t you?” she smiled, resembling Mira in that moment.

  Her hand hovered over his chest, aimed at his heart like a spear.

  “Please! Think about what you’re doing, Lady Yoei… what will people say if you—”

  “Shhhh.” Her index finger deftly silenced his mouth.

  “I just… want to borrow that lovely heart of yours, may I?”

  Without warning, his teeth nearly bit her finger again; his face slick with sweat, frustration in his eyes.

  “A man, yet he bites… how pathetic,” Yoei said, adopting a mournful expression as if disappointed by the attempt.

  Like water through cloth, her hand passed through yer after yer until she touched what she sought.

  “Good night, an honor to meet you, Torveth.”

  “Sanguis in Cristallo, Vita in Silentio!” Yoei chanted, and instantly what she touched froze into red crystal, its sharp tip piercing Torveth’s flesh.

  Slowly she withdrew her hand, lifting the prize she had cimed, a smile on her lips.

  The fire that had lit the room vanished completely as the light left Torveth’s eyes.

  Darkness swallowed everything again—but this time, everything was dead. Only Yoei’s breath remained to accompany her.

  Her smile faded alongside a return of loneliness that gripped her.

  “Now I’m alone again, and it’s so cold, isn’t it?” she said, trying to comfort herself so she wouldn’t regret what she’d done.

  “Mama… I have become a wicked girl…” she sobbed, breath coming in fractured gasps.

  “No… Mama is gone; I must cry to Suna, or perhaps Mira…” Her hands, without her noticing, began pulling at her hair again—the same as in her room.

  “Forget it… there’s no one I can take refuge in. I’ll keep crying until these tears run dry,” she added, her crying intensifying. Her hands covered her entire face, her legs kicking wildly.

  There was no one to help her now, nor anyone to hear the screams of her soul—everything silenced within that wicked chamber.