QUICK RECAP-
Arthur, Ruby, and Adam lie unconscious in Bexam's chamber, bound by flesh-like vines that drain their memories.
Bexam—a monstrous, stitched being with razor fingers—studies them like specimens.
He effortlessly defeats them: dislocating Arthur's shoulder, drinking Adam's water blades, and refracting Ruby's light attacks.
As Arthur fades, he sees visions of James dying.
The chapter ends with Bexam releasing purple mist to keep them sedated, whispering: "Let's see how you break." The trio's fate seems hopeless.
-RECAP ENDS
Arthur wasn't unconscious.
But he wasn't here.
Not fully.
His awareness swam just beneath reality, suspended between breath and oblivion. The purple mist drifted through him—soft, sweet, rhythmic—designed not to suffocate, but to seduce. To cradle him under.
And the vines?
They pulsed around his arms like leeches made of rhythm.
Ether veins.
Each pulse drained thought.
He couldn't feel his legs.
His shoulders burned.
His chest rose—then hesitated—then fell again, as if his lungs were no longer on his side.
And his head?
It tilted softly to the right, neck muscles too tired to protest gravity.
James.
His son's name flickered across the black canvas of his brain, not as memory, but as threat.
If Arthur slept—
If this mist swallowed him—
James didn't just lose him.
James lost time.
Twelve hours to reach the capital.
Seven had bled out inside this cave.
Only five remained.
Arthur wanted to scream.
But his lips wouldn't part.
The vines weren't just suppressing Ether.
They were suppressing urgency.
He blinked slowly.
Each flutter cost more effort.
And his thoughts began to break into fragments:
Mouth too dry. Air tastes sweet. Am I floating? Is this what dying politely feels like?
And above those thoughts—
James gasping in his death bed, clutching the edge of time with fingers too young to fray.
Arthur exhaled once.
It was shallow.
Not willful.
And the vines took that exhale and whispered: give us the rest.
He knew what was happening.
This wasn't magic.
This wasn't combat.
It was erasure through lullaby.
But Arthur wasn't gentle.
Never had been.
If he was going to fall asleep—
He'd bite himself first.
Hard enough to wake.
Hard enough to rip.
Hard enough to hurt through haze.
His jaw tensed.
The vines responded with a pulse of restriction—but they were focused on his arms, his glyph.
They didn't silence his teeth.
He slid his tongue sideways.
Felt the sharp edge of his molar.
A familiar place.
A vulnerable place.
And—
He clenched.
CHNK.
Pain detonated inside his mouth.
Not a stab.
A tear.
The tongue split open beneath pressure.
Copper exploded across his lips.
Blood pooled instantly—thick, hot, acidic.
He gagged.
But didn't inhale.
Instead—
his brain snapped awake.
A sharp flood of memory surged upward.
Not full clarity.
Just enough.
The pain kept him present.
The taste kept him anchored.
His heart punched against his ribs.
Not once.
Twice.
Then again.
Adrenaline spilled behind his eyes.
Vision returned in static.
Blurred symbols.
The ceiling.
The vines.
His arms.
His tongue.
His name.
He was Arthur, and he was bleeding, and he was still here.
The vines around his chest pulsed angrily—recognizing the spike.
But they weren't fast enough.
He was conscious.
Not lucid.
Not unbroken.
But refusing sleep.
Blood soaked his chin.
His lips trembled from force.
But his jaw stayed clenched—like pain was a blade he'd hold in place.
Even when it hurt.
Especially because it hurt.
His muscles twitched.
His right wrist jolted softly.
Still bound.
But now?
He could feel the strain.
He could feel choice.
And in the Hollow, that was the same as rebellion.
Arthur didn't think yet.
Thinking came next.
For now—
He bled.
And stayed.
Blood pooled on the stone, hot and sticky beneath Arthur's chin.
The taste of iron blistered his mouth from the bite.
But he was conscious.
One hand free.
Left arm still gripped in vines that pulsed like nerves carved from Ether.
He wasn't safe.
But he was awake.
And Ruby was close.
He looked at her—still bound, slightly slumped. Her glyph shimmered faintly beneath her collarbone.
Arthur swallowed against pain.
Then whispered:
"Ruby…"
His voice didn't echo.
It crawled.
No response.
He dragged his body sideways—his torn forearm trailing blood across the ground, each inch a threat against his lungs.
He reached her.
Barely.
He touched her wrist.
Her glyph pulsed once beneath the skin.
Arthur inhaled sharply.
"Ruby…"
Her eyelids fluttered.
Then opened.
Softly.
Sluggishly.
Then sharply.
Her eyes focused on his face.
Arthur, pale and bleeding, lips crimson.
Her breath caught.
"Arthur?"
He smiled through cracked teeth.
"You're…here…"
She blinked twice.
Looked down.
Her gaze paused on his forearm.
What she saw froze her face.
A flicker—of guilt.
Her lips parted slightly. Not to speak. Just to breathe through realization.
Arthur's arm was mangled.
And he'd done that to reach her.
Because her shield hadn't held.
Because her Light had failed.
And because she hadn't woken fast enough.
Her jaw clenched.
Then—
She reached for her glyph.
"I feel…"
She placed one hand against her chest.
"I… I feel better."
She closed her eyes.
"My Ether—it was down to thirty before. Almost gone."
She inhaled slowly.
Then blinked at Arthur.
"But now—it's seventy."
Arthur raised a brow.
Still shaking.
Ruby nodded.
"I think my Light adapted. To the miasma. It's not burning me anymore."
She reached for his arm.
Arthur flinched instinctively.
Then relaxed.
"Do it."
Her Light shimmered—soft, silver-gold veins unfolding from her palm.
When it touched Arthur's torn forearm, he hissed.
Not in pain.
In relief.
The Light didn't flood him—it stabilized.
Held the muscle where it threatened collapse. Cooled the nerve endings. Gave his body permission to hold on a little longer.
Arthur exhaled.
Ruby kept casting—deliberate, controlled.
"You're still bound," she said, eyes tracing his left arm locked in pulsing vines.
"I only needed one," Arthur whispered.
She gave a faint smile.
Then traced the vine lightly.
"I can burn it off—"
"No," Arthur cut in.
She paused.
He looked up.
"We don't have time."
Her gaze sharpened.
"How much?"
Arthur blinked.
"When I bit my tongue? Five hours."
He glanced at the mist.
"Now? Less."
Ruby didn't hesitate.
She stepped toward Adam.
His Hydro glyph was cracked—barely glowing.
He hung limp, mouth ajar, fingers twitching against the suppressive vines.
Ruby raised her hand.
Light shimmered—but as she summoned a dome, her eyes flicked back to Arthur.
One quick glance.
An apology that didn't need words.
Then—
She slammed the dome gently into Adam's forehead.
THWACK.
The Ether impact triggered a surge.
Adam's glyph reacted—but not normally.
The water rippled upward, flickering blue—
Then black.
Then blue again.
Like Light had disturbed something submerged.
Ruby blinked.
Arthur narrowed his eyes.
Adam jolted.
Then gasped.
"What the—?"
He blinked rapidly, body radiating gently as Hydro re-stabilized.
His eyes locked on Ruby.
Then Arthur.
Then the mist.
His voice came broken.
"Did I… die?"
Arthur coughed.
"Not yet."
Ruby stood quietly, watching his glyph flicker a final time.
Arthur pointed to the wall.
"We need to leave."
Adam nodded slowly.
Then looked at Ruby.
"Your Light—it messed with my glyph."
Ruby shrugged.
"Your water's still scared."
Adam grinned faintly.
"Scared of you."
Arthur groaned.
"We're out of time."
Adam blinked back into life.
Ruby's Light shield had cracked him awake like a memory refusing to be forgotten. His glyph surged again—unstable but responsive. Ribbons of water danced across his arms, flickering between clean blue and hints of corrupted black.
Hydro-Volt wasn't healed.
But it was breathing again.
Arthur leaned against the stone wall, blood dried along his chin, the taste of his tongue-bite still lingering like a wound earned with purpose.
"Adam," he rasped. "Get my sword."
Adam frowned.
Arthur nodded toward the far end of the dome—there, lying on a slab beside flickering glyph jars, was his blade.
A hundred meters away.
Their final tool.
Adam flexed his fingers.
The water answered.
Not in perfection—but with cooperation.
Hydro surged beneath his palms like a loyal current nursing old bruises.
He knelt slightly, aimed.
Then cast.
Twin spirals of water shot forward, thin but swift, weaving through the chamber's air in arcing elegance. They danced around suspended chains and jars housing organs that pulsed like forgotten names.
The stream reached the hilt—
Wrapped around it—
And recoiled.
The sword flew across the chamber in a silver blur and landed in Adam's hand with a satisfying hiss.
He turned to Arthur.
Arthur took the weapon, the weight familiar—but heavier with context.
Then he approached Ruby.
She raised her chin slightly.
Arthur nodded once, lifted the blade—
And cut.
The vine snapped with a shriek of resistance, Ether sparks flaring violently—but Ruby dropped free.
Arthur caught her as she stumbled.
Then turned.
Adam stepped forward.
Arthur sliced through his restraints, and Adam tumbled into a crouch—then rose, glyph glowing steadily.
Finally, Arthur sliced through his own remaining bind.
One twist.
One hiss.
Freedom.
All three stood.
Pain clung to them like old cloth.
But they were moving.
Together.
Adam stretched his arms, his glyph flaring.
"I'm good. Maybe better."
He glanced between Arthur and Ruby.
"I think we can fight Bexam."
Arthur stared at him for a moment.
Then slowly shook his head.
"No."
Adam narrowed his eyes.
"I felt strong. Ruby's Light—my water's cleaner—"
Arthur cut in.
"He watched us."
Adam flinched.
Arthur continued.
"He mirrored me. Absorbed you. Reflected her Light."
"He studied us."
"He didn't beat us with strength."
"He dismantled us by observation."
Ruby stepped up.
"He's right."
She glanced toward the distant arch—an exit barely visible behind chains and glyph distortion.
"We're not here to win."
"We're here to survive."
Arthur turned toward the exit.
"If we run—hard—we can still make it."
Adam hesitated.
Then nodded.
They moved.
Not with uncertainty.
With clarity.
Three broken engines ready to chase their own escape.
Arthur led—sword now sheathed, body stitched by Ruby's Light. Each step throbbed through his arm.
Ruby followed—her glyph burning faintly, casting shielding waves where the mist tried to thicken.
Adam turned sideways, his glyph shimmering along his feet.
Then he cast again—
Water exploded beneath him.
A thin pool spread across the cave floor—then curved upward.
Adam stepped onto it—
It held.
Hydro stabilized beneath him, forming a slick, ribboned platform.
He shifted his stance—
Then gestured.
Ruby grabbed Arthur's arm.
Adam raised one hand.
Water surged again—
And they lifted.
Hydro twisted into a hovering stream—an impromptu surfboard forged from motion, sweat, and urgent design. Adam rode the edge, steering the board as Ruby and Arthur balanced against its momentum.
Light wrapped around them for balance.
Hydro hissed underneath.
And suddenly—
They flew.
The cave blurred around them.
Stone passed like wind.
Chains snapped in their wake.
The exit grew closer.
And for the first time—
Speed outpaced fear.
Minutes fell behind them.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Twenty-five.
Their breath came in sync.
Arthur gritted his teeth.
Ruby cast in waves to keep balance.
Adam leaned harder—guiding turns, adjusting glyph output.
Then—
Half an hour.
Silence.
Then—
A scream.
No.
A roar.
Deep.
Gnashing.
Unmistakable.
Hydro wavered.
Adam clenched his fists.
Ruby steadied her Light.
Arthur turned.
The sound rolled through the cave like thunder learned to whisper.
Far behind.
The dome chamber pulsed.
The throne—
Now occupied.
Bexam stood.
Slouched.
Grinning.
One razor finger traced the armrest.
His glyphs flared violet across his spine.
He sniffed the air.
Then spoke.
"Run."
"This is more fun."
**"When Footsteps Echo,
Control Dies"**
END OF CHAPTER-10
-To Be Continued-