(READER DISCRETION ADVISED: The following content may contain mature themes, graphic violence, or disturbing subject matter. Reader discretion is advised.)
Axel's fury had been an unstoppable force, driving him to relentless actions that bordered on the edge of sanity. After the chaos, the scene in the basement had become the backdrop for his deepest revenge. Mateo's body, still bearing the wounds inflicted by Lila's knife, was now a testament to Axel's rage.
He had pulled Mateo out of the basement, the man's barely conscious form dragged through the dimly lit corridors of the palace. Raul, his trusted advisor, watched silently, his expression a mix of apprehension and understanding.
In the cold, sterile confines of the palace's medical wing, Axel laid Mateo on a table, his rage barely contained. The room was filled with the faint smell of antiseptic and the sharp, clinical light that cast harsh shadows on the walls.
A doctor, summoned in haste, approached with a look of nervous dread. "Your Majesty," the doctor began, bowing slightly as he took in the sight of Mateo's battered body.
Axel's voice was icy, each word dripping with disdain. "Tend to his wounds. He's not to die yet."
The doctor's hands shook slightly as he began to clean and bandage Mateo's injuries. Each touch was meticulous, yet his movements were tinged with unease. Axel watched with an unyielding gaze, his expression devoid of compassion.
Once the doctor had finished, Axel dismissed him with a curt nod. Mateo's wounds were now partially healed, but the pain was far from over. Axel had a different kind of justice in mind.
With a flick of his hand, Axel signaled Raul, who moved to fetch a selection of instruments. The table was set with a variety of tools, each one designed to inflict pain and suffering. Mateo, barely conscious, could only whimper as he was restrained once more.
Axel approached with a cold detachment. His hands were steady, his resolve unshakeable. "Mateo," he began, his voice a chilling whisper, "do you remember what you did to Bianca?"
Mateo's eyes fluttered open, a flicker of recognition in his pain-filled gaze. He managed a weak nod, though it was clear he was struggling to stay conscious.
"You assaulted her," Axel continued, his tone growing more intense. "You imprisoned her. You killed her."
With a grim determination, Axel picked up an instrument, a cruel twist of fate that made the doctor's work feel like a mere prelude. He began to reopen and aggravate Mateo's wounds, each cut and tear accompanied by the sounds of Mateo's pained gasps. The man's suffering was amplified with each new injury, a brutal testament to Axel's vengeance.
Axel's hands were relentless. He made sure that Mateo felt every ounce of his anger, every ounce of his grief for Bianca. He paused occasionally, only to let Mateo's wounds be partially healed again, ensuring that the cycle of pain would continue. This was not a simple act of torture; it was a meticulously planned retribution.
As the hours passed, Mateo's suffering reached its peak. His body was a canvas of blood and pain, his once-proud visage now a mask of sheer agony. Axel watched with a grim satisfaction, his rage slowly subsiding into a cold, calculated calm.
Raul, standing by with a silent intensity, watched the scene unfold. He had seen Axel in many states, but this was a new level of cruelty—a reflection of the depth of Axel's betrayal and anger. Raul knew better than to intervene. Axel's vengeance was a personal matter, one that transcended the boundaries of duty and honor.
When the final blow was struck, when Mateo's screams had faded into exhausted whimpers, Axel stepped back, his breathing heavy but controlled. He surveyed the room, the aftermath of his rage leaving a stark imprint on the once-pristine medical wing.
"Let him be," Axel ordered, his voice echoing with a finality that left no room for further action. "He will remain here, a living monument to his crimes."
The room fell into a somber silence as Axel turned to leave. His steps were heavy, burdened with the weight of what he had done. He knew that justice had been served, but the personal cost of his vengeance lingered in his heart. As he walked away, Raul followed silently, their shared understanding of the gravity of the situation unspoken but deeply felt.
As Raul left Axel, Raul was seen by Prince Theo, the dim light of the Northern Empire's palace flickered faintly as Prince Theo and Raul conversed in a secluded corner of the grand hall. The room, filled with the echoes of distant battles and strained alliances, was now a space for a personal reckoning.
Theo's face was a mixture of worry and frustration. His usually composed demeanor was edged with raw emotion. "Raul, where have you been? We've been searching for you."
Raul, visibly weary and disheveled, finally met Theo's intense gaze. His voice was hoarse, burdened by the weight of recent events. "Mateo... Mateo had me locked in his basement. I was imprisoned there for weeks, and it's been hell."
Theo's eyes widened with shock and anger. "Mateo? But... he was supposed to be dead. What are you saying, Raul?"
Raul nodded grimly, the gravity of his words sinking into Theo. "Mateo is alive. Emperor Axel, he—he took Mateo's body from Azro and brought him here. Mateo is being kept at the Emperor's basement."
Theo's face went pale, his mind racing with the implications. "Mateo is still alive? Why would my brother bring him here? What's he doing with him?"
Raul looked away, a pained expression crossing his features. "The Emperor has been torturing Mateo. He's holding him as punishment for everything Mateo did, especially for what he did to your sister, the late princess, Bianca."
With that, Prince Theo stormed through the grand halls of the Northern Empire's palace, his mind a whirlwind of rage and disbelief. The revelation that Mateo was alive, imprisoned, and tortured by Axel was overwhelming. Driven by a surge of anger, Theo sought out Emperor Axel with a single, urgent demand.
The throne room, a symbol of power and authority, felt oppressive as Theo burst through the doors. Axel, seated on his imposing throne, looked up with a mixture of curiosity and cold detachment.
"Theo, what brings you here with such urgency?" Axel's voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed a hint of tension.
Theo's voice was trembling with fury as he approached. "Axel, you must end Mateo's life immediately. He's a monster who has caused too much suffering, and his continued existence is an affront to everything we stand for."
Axel's expression remained unreadable. "You've been briefed on the situation."
Without waiting for further argument, Axel rose from his throne and motioned for Theo to follow. The two men moved through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, Theo's steps heavy with purpose, Axel's with a detached resolve.
They reached the basement, a stark contrast to the opulence above. The dim, cold air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. Axel led Theo to a heavy, iron-bound door, opening it with a creak that echoed ominously. Inside, Mateo lay in a state of pitiful agony, his once-proud figure reduced to a broken shell of a man.
Theo's eyes widened as he took in the scene. Mateo, bruised and bloodied, was chained to a rough wooden chair. The sight was grotesque, a stark reminder of the cruelty that had unfolded.
"Brother, you can't just let him continue to live like this," Theo pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "He deserves to die for what he's done, and you know it!"
Axel's gaze was unyielding as he stepped closer to Mateo. "You don't understand, Theo. Killing him now won't erase the damage he's caused."
Theo watched, his anger mingling with a helpless sorrow. "You're right, but this isn't justice—this is torture. If you won't do it, then I will!"
But Axel's voice was firm, silencing any further protest. "You're right, I'm really getting tired of this but I'll handle it."
Theo's face was a mixture of frustration and resignation as he stepped back, giving Axel space. Axel approached Mateo, who looked up with a mix of defiance and resignation in his eyes.
With a cold determination, Axel unsheathed a blade from his belt, the steel glinting in the dim light. He approached Mateo with grim finality. The room seemed to hold its breath as Axel positioned the blade over Mateo's chest.
Mateo's eyes, once so filled with malevolent fire, now reflected a fleeting glimpse of fear. Axel met his gaze with an unyielding resolve, his expression a mask of steely resolve.
In a swift, practiced motion, Axel drove the blade into Mateo's chest. The sound of steel meeting flesh was accompanied by a gasp from Mateo, who flinched and then slumped forward, his life draining away rapidly. The blood flowed freely, pooling around him, a stark testament to the finality of Axel's action.
Theo watched in somber silence, his emotions a tumultuous mix of anger and a profound sense of finality. Axel stood over Mateo's lifeless body, his face a cold mask of detached justice.
With the deed done, Axel turned to Theo, his expression hardening. "It's over. Mateo's suffering ends here. We must now focus on rebuilding and addressing the future of the Northern Empire."
Theo, though deeply unsettled, nodded in agreement. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him, but the death of Mateo marked a decisive end to a dark chapter.
In the end, just like in their first lives, the only one who can kill Mateo is Axel.