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"Kids these days…"
Shaking her head, Cornelia exhaled, withdrawing her focus from her Domain.
What Ashen and Seraphine didn't realize was that they'd had a front-row spectator to their little slash-and-burn special.
Lucky for them, Cornelia wasn't in the mood to catch them.
She had been watching Ashen more out of protection than surveillance, after all.
And, more importantly, everything happening in this city operated under the tacit approval of the Alliance.
Otherwise, with her Domain…
She could turn this cesspool back into a paradise of discipline in under half an hour.
The Alliance, a shadow council formed by the upper echelons of every major faction, oversaw matters that truly impacted humanity's future.
And what could be more critical than managing a city filled with their future soldiers?
They had invested far too much into this place to let petty morality get in the way.
So even if Cornelia's faction had been assigned as this semester's overseer, she wasn't allowed to alter the fundamental rules.
And one such rule?
Let the trainees indulge their sins; so long as they were discreet and weren't caught.
Plot. Scheme. Murder each other in the dark.
If there was no proof, there was no crime.
Of course, the trainees had no clue about this rule. If they did? The city would burn down faster than a snowman in hell.
But the benefits of such a policy were obvious.
It weeded out the naive.
It forced the cunning to thrive.
The monsters they'd face beyond these walls wouldn't be their only adversaries. Wherever factions and power existed, conflict was inevitable.
And some of the real beasts out there?
They were more calculating, deceitful, and vicious than any human could ever be.
So no, Cornelia hadn't lifted a finger to stop Ashen and Seraphine, even when they blatantly broke half a dozen rules in the last ten minutes.
Not that she wanted to stop them.
Rules or no rules, that Chris prick had tried to kill them first.
He got what was coming to him.
Besides… Ashen was the man her cute little sister had her eye on.
And that was reason enough to let this one slide.
❖⛧❖
Ashen finally reached the door of his apartment, with Seraphine still latched onto his side like a limpet with abandonment issues. Her constant clinging made the walk feel twice as long.
"Well, we're here… Are you gonna let go now?" he asked, arching a brow.
"Hmm… No," she murmured, not even pretending to think about it.
"What then? We staying like this forever?" He honestly couldn't tell if she was shaken or just back to being her weirdly affectionate self.
"...Ash, let me stay over," she finally said, her voice soft. "I don't want to be alone tonight. Please."
He stared at her for a beat before sighing. "Alright."
Whatever her reasons, he couldn't bring himself to say no. Anything was better than standing around in the hallway, still half-drenched in blood and God knows what else.
Tok.
The lock clicked open, and as soon as they stepped inside, Seraphine peeled off and darted to the bathroom like a girl late for her date with a scented bubble bath.
Ashen collapsed into a kitchen chair, dragging a hand down his face. The quiet hum of the water running in the distance gave him space to think… maybe too much space.
The memories of what they'd done crept back like shadows slipping under the door. But the guilt… wasn't there.
There were flickers; occasional spikes in his heart rate, but when he examined the feeling closely, it wasn't remorse. It was fear. Fear of the consequences. Of being found out. Of dragging Seraphine down with him.
Not regret.
He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
'Am I turning into a monster…?'
A normal person would feel something after killing a man, right? Even if the bastard deserved it. Even if it was justified. Even if it was a man like that.
But no… here he was, numb. Bored. Slightly annoyed at the smell still clinging to his clothes.
His eyes dimmed.
Maybe it wasn't just because the one he killed was Chris that he reacted the way he did
Maybe his whole perception of death had shifted. Warped. Shattered and reassembled into something unrecognizable since he came to this continent.
The countless deaths in his dreamscape, the agonizing repeats in the DDD, the mutilated corpses during that first week… half-eaten, half-human, and not to mention the constant daily toll of new deaths being discovered every day…
It all chipped away at something sacred, something not meant to be met this frequently. Until the concept of death stopped being horrifying and started becoming routine.
Chris was just one more broken body in the pile.
"Ash! I'm done~ You can go in now!" Seraphine's voice floated from the bathroom, sing-song and cheerful like she hadn't mutilated a man less than an hour ago.
'Finally…' He stood, glad to have something else to do. No more philosophical spirals for tonight.
Still, as he got up from his chair, he wondered… how was she dealing with all this?
'No matter what the answer is, I'll be by her side,' he decided. Even if she was a psycho…
But deep down, he suspected her usual bubbly demeanor was just a different kind of armor. A smile so blinding it deflected the horror.
And when that armor cracks… who knows what'll be left?
'Something that outwardly sunny can hide a void so vast, it swallows guilt whole…'
He exhaled.
'What a wild, spinning illusion we live in…'
Seraphine apparently didn't appreciate his prolonged silence… because she barged right into the room like she owned the place.
Ashen looked up—and froze.
Steam clung to her skin like a second veil as she padded barefoot across the hardwood floor, the soft sound of each step muffled by the lingering warmth of her shower.
A towel was wrapped around her body, though barely. It hugged her curves like a desperate lover, far too short, too tight, too... everything.
Ashen blinked.
He wasn't sure if she'd mistaken a hand towel for a body towel or if she'd simply declared war on his sanity.
Either way, his thoughts scattered when he noticed a single droplet sliding from her soaked blonde curls, tracing a slow, seductive path down her neck, gliding across her collarbone—then vanishing beneath the edge of the towel.
His breath caught.
Seraphine followed his gaze, then turned slightly to peek at herself in the hall mirror still visible through the open door.
Time seemed to stop.
And so did Ashen's ability to form coherent thoughts.
Her reflection was... lethal.
Flushed cheeks. Glossy, pouty lips. Skin glistening with droplets. A towel clinging on like it had been bribed not to fall.
Her soft giggle broke the spell.
"Oops," she said, inspecting herself with a feigned innocence. "I forgot to dry off properly again…"
'A masterpiece…' Ashen thought absently.
His gaze dropped.
'A round, bouncy masterpiece…'
"Ash...?" Her voice snapped him out of it.
He exhaled slowly and muttered under his breath, "What light through yonder window breaks? 'Tis the east, and Juliet is stacked."
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