Since the Fortress of Vice's early activation, Kilian considered the possibility of Jezebel's presence. However, his failure to sense her seemed to disprove his assumptions. That, or the zones existed in separate dimensions—preventing him to use the Fehl Bond to locate Jezebel. But if barriers interfered with the link, why was he still suffering from the rebound? She couldn't be far; she had to be here.
In this Fortress, how many people or things could deal Jezebel such injuries. Wrong question, how much danger was she in? Did she win? Was she safe? Where was she? The questions rattled Kilian's mind, and closing his now useless eyes, he activated his Eye of Revelation peering as far as he could while attempting to break all illusions if they existed. Failing to get results, Kilian narrowed his target to the surrounding walls, dark-gray light swirled in his third eye, formless forces clashed with the atmosphere to shred all masks of deception.
He could feel it, the so-called zone 13 was an isolated dimension connected to and controlled by the Fortress. But as he clashed with the barriers, images that didn't belong to this zone flashed in Kilian's mind. Bjorn hiding a miniature Carmen in his sleeve and hacking through hordes of fehls. Ayden, Tristan and Estrella sitting beside a lake, facing an uncanny daemon that sat crossed-legged above the water surface, and other blurred images that gave Kilian the impression...that his zone overlapped with others. Or perhaps, everything was false, all zones were one, but the current level of the Eye of Revelation prevented him from seeing the truth.
"Urag, after I tie some loose ends, the two of us will leave for the Bacchanalia and must find the gate as soon as possible," Kilian said, and used his Transmutation skills to restore his eyes' amber color, preventing others from realizing their current blindness. With sweat trickling down his forehead, he closed his Eye of Fehl—and without further explanations—walked out the room, leaving Lena and Urag behind. With no time to probe news or argue, they could only exchange worried glances. But as they both held functionable brains, they quickly reached the same conclusion.
"Jezebel is in danger..."
…
Tamara and Anke's room stood at Kilian's left. With no announcement, Kilian shoved the door open and walked in. Suppressed by Urag's magic, neither could use their abilities and seemed as helpless as average human girls. Ignoring Anke, Kilian walked toward Tamara's bed, facing her with no ounce of gentleness.
"Greetings, Tamara. I hear you want to kill me? That's pretty troublesome, now, isn't it? How are we going to handle that?" Kilian asked in a direct yet playful tone. If not for those amber eyes and the glint of insolence sparkling within, Tamara could deceive herself into thinking that this youth was her adored brother. But he wasn't, and everything in her mind screamed to take revenge against that impostor who robbed her beloved's identity and destroyed her family.
"Kill me if you dare! Every second I breathe is another chance to take your life, and believe me, as long as the opportunity presents itself, I will not miss it!" Tamara spat, but at the left corner of the room, Anke remained silent, studying Kilian's expressions with rapt attention. Tamara's threat seemed to stir something in Kilian, a conflicting mixture of pity and annoyance.
"Usually, I would do just that. Why waste time and energy trying to save a girl intent on deceiving herself? You're not particularly useful to me. If anything, I'd call you a liability," Kilian began, and closed in on Tamara, placing his hands on her bedsheets, "Unfortunately, in a moment of weakness, I made a deal with your brother. A miserable fellow, I must say. Threw himself into a life of contracted murder to put food on the table for his worthless sister and mother. Forced himself to endure his abject father because the weaker two couldn't bear slaying him. Where did that get him?" Kilian whispered in Tamara's ears, and as if his every word kindled something in her mind, she trembled in fright.
"I don't even need to check your brain or use my Eye of Revelation to find the truth. Forceful memory re-assembly damages the mind and cognitive abilities. Unless the Technocrats developed a cutting-edge method, you can't possibly be in such a flawless shape. There is only one explanation: You wanted to forget. You wanted to escape the truth, regardless of the means. It didn't matter to you that they'd redirect you at an innocent target.
As long as you could forget how your father cracked open your wailing mother's head with a brick, as long as you could find a culprit to all your pains that didn't involve your relatives, everything was fine!" Kilian said, activated his Eye of Revelation, and clasped the quivering Tamara's head between his hands—forcing her to stare into his third eye.
"But I won't have it! Why should I allow you to use me as the scapegoat for your own sins? Your weakness, your indecisiveness, your pathetic clinging to destructive bonds ruined your brother's life! They prevented an outstanding talent from finding his place in the world, and made him suffer a death that'd fill factory pigs with grief!" Kilian spat, the dark-gray light of Revelation swirled in his third eye, breaking down the barriers Tamara allowed the Technocrats to plant in her mind.
"No...no...noooo! Stop! This isn't true, this isn't true, you're lying....liar! Stop…please!" She squealed, but Kilian wouldn't stop.
"Do you know what his last words were? Kill my father, bury my mother and save my sister! Even as he burned to death on the Desolate Knife Cult's altar, your brother still could only think of you two, and knew exactly what awaited you. Can you imagine his grief, knowing that his mother wouldn't survive him, and that without his protection, the best his sister could hope for was a life of slavery? Even in death, he couldn't find peace!
Blood ties are worthless. All bonds are hammered through nurturing. Who cares that he's your father? If he's a threat to those you love—you gut him—it's that simple. Your brother understood that truth, but because he knew that making the right move would forever haunt his relationship with you two, he didn't dare. Everything that followed stemmed from this point.
If your father died early, he would have never joined the Desolate Knife Cult, your family would have found a way out of the slums, and your mother...would still be alive. So don't you dare blame me! And shoulder your reality!" Kilian's face twisted into a fiendish look, and the Eye of Revelation broke all that remained of the Technocracy's brainwashing—forcing Tamara to regain her true memories.
Her pupils dilated, and she screamed, such a shrill and mournful cry that Anke felt as if thorns were growing out of her ears.
His work done, Kilian dropped Tamara on the bed, and as she convulsed unceasingly, he tilted his head to the right, casting a lopsided glance at Anke.
"Been a while since I played the devil's chap. Almost forgotten that I sometimes lose myself in the role. Right, Anke?" Kilian said, and in an absentminded move, Anke rose from the bed.
"It's you...Kilian, it's really you."