The dim light of the glowing wall-lamps cast soft bluish hues across the stone walls of Arslan's room. A faint twilight glow seeped through the narrow window, filtered by the magical energy barriers humming outside the Mythic Base. Scrolls, old manuals, and remnants of training equipment lay scattered on the wooden table, untouched for days.
Arslan sat on the edge of his bed, his dark hoodie draped over his shoulders like a shadow of burden. His black, messy hair hung slightly over his brows as he stared at the floor, jaw tense, fingers interlocked, mind running a thousand miles a minute.
The room was quiet—eerily quiet. Even the usual ambient hum of the base seemed subdued, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Suddenly, a faint ripple distorted the air near the far wall. It shimmered like fire reflecting on water—and then he emerged.
A figure cloaked in flames and shadow—Kar'Thæl. His horns curled with a subtle pulse of molten heat, eyes glowing red as embers. The faint outline of chains clinked softly as he moved, an ethereal reminder of their fusion.
"Hey buddy," Kar'Thæl said with a half-smirk, his voice crackling like kindling. "You look... a little worried."
Arslan didn't even flinch at his appearance. He looked up, voice low but firm. "Yeah... I'm just thinking about our goals."
Kar'Thæl raised an eyebrow, walking slowly toward the bed, his steps leaving subtle trails of dark energy. "Goals, huh? Let's clear that up for me."
Arslan took a breath, leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Day by day, we're getting dragged deeper into things we never asked for. Tournaments. Ambushes. Politics. Power games. But not once—not once—have we made time to pursue what we really came for."
"Arcana," Kar'Thæl said quietly.
Arslan nodded. "Our families. Our origins. Answers. Every day we waste here, it's like... they slip further away."
For a moment, the room was silent again. Kar'Thæl crossed his arms, his expression darkening slightly. "You are absolutely right. These events... it's consuming everything. And we're not even at the heart of it yet."
Arslan stood and paced, the silver embroidery of his bedding catching the light behind him. "We need time. Freedom to move. A plan. Something—anything—that lets us break away from this cycle and finally go to Arcana."
Kar'Thæl nodded slowly. "So what do you propose? We can't just walk out. Not with all eyes on us now. Mythic Rank or not, we're tangled in this web."
Arslan exhaled sharply. "Maybe... we ask for help. From the top."
Kar'Thæl tilted his head. "The King?"
"Yes." Arslan stopped pacing. "If anyone has the power to give us some space—or a reason to go—it's him. He respects us. He knows what we've done."
Kar'Thæl's fiery form flickered, lips curling into a thoughtful grin. "Hmm. A bold move. But I like it."
There was a pause. Arslan's tone dropped. "But even if he agrees... there will still be two problems."
Kar'Thæl raised an eyebrow. "Two?"
Arslan turned toward the window, his voice tinged with quiet urgency. "First, Lumisgrave. If we go... who protects it? You saw what happened last time. Devils, traitors, rogue knights. We can't afford another surprise."
Kar'Thæl narrowed his glowing eyes. "You don't believe the Echelon Knights are strong enough?"
"Not all of them," Arslan replied. "Some are brave. Some gifted. But as a whole? They're fractured. Divided by rank, ego, fear. If another high-tier demon invades while we're gone…"
Kar'Thæl crossed the room slowly, his chains gently dragging behind. "So you're saying: if we go to Arcana, we're leaving behind a city half-prepared for war—and we can't in good conscience do that."
Arslan nodded. "Exactly."
Kar'Thæl exhaled a slow hiss of flame, considering. "And the second problem?"
Arslan turned around. "Arcana itself. It won't welcome us. Whatever secrets lie there, they won't be unguarded. We'll need strength. Backup. Strategy."
Kar'Thæl walked to the center of the room, his voice rising with resolve. "Then we solve the first problem before we tackle the second. If we want to go to Arcana, we prepare Lumisgrave first."
Arslan's brows drew together. "How?"
Kar'Thæl's smirk returned, this time laced with something more serious. "We recommend a full-scale collaboration training for all Echelon Knights. Unified sessions. Practical combat drills. Demonic resistance simulations."
Arslan's eyes lit with the spark of a plan forming. "If they train together, they learn each other's strengths. They become more than ranks—they become a defense system."
"And when the time comes," Kar'Thæl added, "they'll be ready to defend this world without us."
The silence returned—but this time, it buzzed with purpose. Arslan looked at his bonded other half, a rare sense of clarity settling in his chest.
"You're right," he said. "Then one problem will be nipped before it grows."
Kar'Thæl stepped toward the door, a grin on his face. "Then what are we waiting for?"
Arslan followed, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter. "Let's go talk to the King."