Lumiea froze. His amethyst eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway. A deep hood covered the man's face, hiding his features in shadow. But even without seeing his face, Lumiea could feel the crushing weight of his presence. It wasn't just his size—it was the raw surge of mana pouring from him, thick and suffocating. A chill ran down Lumiea's spine.
Instinct kicked in. Before the figure could move, Lumiea slammed the door shut with a deafening boom. His heart pounded as he sprinted deeper into the building. Maybe—just maybe—he could escape.
Bang!
The illusion shattered as the door exploded into splinters. The man stepped inside, his dark cloak swallowing what little light filtered through the grimy windows. Lumiea's breath hitched. His eyes locked onto the symbol on the man's chest—the sigil of Entigon.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," the man said, his voice low and dangerous. Every step he took echoed with quiet menace. "I was told to bring you in alive. But that doesn't mean I can't break a few bones first."
Lumiea swallowed hard. His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Who are you?"
The man chuckled, cold and humorless. "You think I'm stupid?"
Then he moved.
Fast.
A blur of black surged toward Lumiea. His body barely had time to react. A crushing force slammed into his gut. Thud. His breath vanished in a strangled gasp.
"AHHH!"
Pain exploded through him, white-hot and merciless. But as he doubled over, a spark of defiance flared within him. His fingers twitched—dark mana pulsed to life in his palm, glowing blood-red.
The man's eyes flickered. He moved again, faster than Lumiea could track. A brutal punch crashed into his ribs, sending him flying. He smashed into the concrete wall. Crack. Agony shot through his shoulder.
"AHHHH!"
Vision blurred. The room spun.
Through the haze, he saw the man standing over him, studying him with a frown. "Has he awakened already?" he muttered. "No matter. My orders stand."
A steel grip closed around Lumiea's wrist.
Snap.
"AHHHH!"
A scream ripped from his throat as his bone broke. The man smiled—cruel, satisfied. Then he pressed a palm to Lumiea's forehead.
The pain that followed was worse than anything before.
"AHHH!"
Darkness crept at the edges of his mind. His body went limp.
"That should keep him down," the man murmured, lifting Lumiea with ease and slinging him over his shoulder.
The world tilted. Through the fog of pain, a voice whispered in Lumiea's mind.
"What happens once Entigon takes you?"
His lips barely moved. "I don't know… maybe brainwashed…"
The voice slithered closer. "Then let me help you."
"How?" Lumiea's voice was a rasp.
"Give me control."
His thoughts wavered. "What?"
"Do you trust me?"
A bitter laugh echoed in his mind. "I trust no one… except her."
The voice remained calm. "But you don't have a choice, do you?"
A harsh truth.
"If you lose consciousness now, it's over. Your bloodline is too weak."
Lumiea gritted his teeth. He had no options. But what if he lost himself? What if he became nothing more than a puppet?
His breath was shaky. "... What do you plan to do? Kill him?"
"No. Not yet."
Frustration flickered. "Then what?"
"I can help. But you need to let go."
Silence stretched between them.
Did he really have a choice?
His fingers twitched. "How… do I do it?"
"Just let go."
His eyes fluttered shut. Pain dulled to an ache.
"..."
A whisper.
"Here I go."
The last thing Lumiea heard was his own voice, barely a breath.
"Stay alive, Azareth."
Then, his amethyst eyes bled red.
A slow smile curled his lips. "Finally," he murmured. "It's been too long."