Keon exhaled quietly, then unclasped his Cloak of Disguise and pulled it off. The air inside the space carrier felt colder without it, but he didn't let it show.
Now fully visible, he stood tall in his long, crimson coat, its deep red fabric almost glowing under the harsh lights. The coat's high collar framed his sharp features, adding an air of quiet authority to his presence. Beneath it, his form was lean yet sturdy, exuding an unspoken sharpness. But what truly caught attention were his violet eyes—a deep, almost hypnotic shade that gleamed like polished amethyst. Combined with his navy blue hair, they gave him an aura both striking and enigmatic.
The medic's visor flickered as she initiated a full-body scan. The device emitted a soft hum, casting faint pulses of blue light over Keon. Seconds passed, data processing in real time.
Then, she paused.
"There's tissue damage on his ears," she murmured, adjusting the display. The screen showed faint internal injuries—small tears that should have been painful. "Or rather… there was."
She zoomed in on the readings, narrowing her eyes. The damage was healing—too fast. Almost in real time.
The red-accented elite from earlier leaned in slightly. "Regeneration?"
The medic nodded. "It seems his Esperia density is abnormally high, allowing for accelerated recovery. That would explain why the wounds are closing so quickly."
Keon stayed silent.
In reality, his fast healing had nothing to do with Esperia density. It was because he had pumped Stat Points (SP) into Endurance, raising it to 40 during his battle with the Obsidian Howler. His body was adapting to the damage, growing tougher, stronger—far beyond normal Esperia users.
But they didn't need to know that.
The medic finalized her scan, then stepped back. "No critical injuries. Just minor tissue repair in progress." She glanced at Keon again, eyes unreadable behind her visor. "You have an impressive recovery rate. Most would still be in pain from this kind of damage."
Keon shrugged, offering a simple response. "Guess I'm just lucky."
The red-accented elite scoffed but said nothing.
With the examination done, Keon was left standing in the center of the space carrier, fully exposed yet still a mystery. He had passed one layer of scrutiny.
But he knew better than to let his guard down.
This wasn't over yet.
The medic gave Keon one last glance before closing her visor. "You're clear," she said, stepping back. "Try not to strain yourself too much."
With that, she turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving only Keon and the red-accented elite troop behind.
A heavy silence settled between them. The hum of the carrier's engines was the only background noise.
Keon shifted slightly, testing the weight of the handcuffs still secured around his wrists. With a sigh, he finally spoke.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" His violet eyes flicked toward the elite, mildly annoyed.
The man didn't miss a beat. "I do." He crossed his arms, leaning casually against the nearest wall. "Watching you."
Keon let out a dry chuckle. "That's dedication." He tilted his head. "At least take these cuffs off. It's not like I can go anywhere."
The elite didn't even hesitate. "Denied."
Keon clicked his tongue. "Figures."
As Stella was escorted away, the door slid shut with a mechanical hiss, leaving Keon alone in the dimly lit interrogation room. The air inside was cold, sterile, and heavy with the weight of silent scrutiny. The metal walls, illuminated by the overhead lights, felt suffocatingly enclosed, as if pressing inward with invisible force.
The only sounds were the faint hum of the ship's engines and Keon's own steady breaths. He remained still, his posture composed, but beneath the surface, his mind was already working through the layers of the situation.
Then, the silence broke.
The door slid open with sharp precision, and a group of soldiers stepped inside. Their uniforms bore the insignia of a high-ranking division, their disciplined movements betraying no hesitation. These weren't just ordinary enforcers—they were trained interrogators. Observant. Calculated.
Keon's gaze flicked to the man at the front of the group. His stance, the way he carried himself, and the authority in his piercing eyes confirmed that he was the one in charge. He was slightly older than the others, with short-cropped dark hair and a face carved from years of discipline. In his left hand, he held a sleek holo-tablet, its glowing interface subtly reflecting against the dull metal table.
Without introduction or any form of pleasantry, the officer spoke.
"State your full name."
The words were direct, cutting through the air like a blade.
Keon remained silent for a moment, maintaining his unreadable expression. He had no intention of making this easy for them.
The officer didn't seem fazed by the lack of immediate response. Instead, he continued, his tone measured, yet firm.
"How did you take down the Obsidian Howler in the abandoned city?"
Keon's violet eyes remained locked onto the man, but internally, his thoughts moved fast. So, they already knew about that.
Another pause, but the officer gave him no space to breathe.
"You were also seen near the Destroyer Lab—the site where the Mutated Bloodwick was neutralized. How did you manage to defeat it?"
The soldiers positioned around the room stayed silent, their eyes unwavering as they absorbed every detail of Keon's body language. They were waiting for something—any flicker of hesitation, any minor slip that would betray his thoughts.
The officer's expression remained unreadable as he glanced at his holo-tablet, scrolling through information that Keon couldn't see. Then, his gaze lifted, his scrutiny intensifying.
"How did you survive encounters with two high-level threats without sustaining any severe injuries?"
His voice carried no disbelief—only the expectation of an answer.
Keon didn't react, but inwardly, he was aware of what they were implying. An ordinary person wouldn't have walked away from those fights intact. Even trained Esperia users struggled against beasts of that level. And yet, here he was—without a scratch, as if those encounters had been nothing more than routine.
The officer didn't stop. His questioning was methodical, relentless.
"Your body scan showed accelerated healing." He leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze pinning Keon in place. "How exactly does your Esperia enhance your recovery?"
The room grew colder. Not physically, but in atmosphere. Every soldier was listening, dissecting his silence as much as they would his words.
The officer's eyes narrowed. His voice dropped to a quieter, more dangerous tone.
"Who are you really?"
Silence settled like a dense fog.
Keon felt every gaze on him, waiting, measuring. He had been in dangerous situations before, but this was different. These weren't mindless monsters lunging at him in the dark—these were people who knew how to dig, how to peel back layers until nothing was left hidden.
And he had no intention of giving them what they wanted.
This was only the beginning.