The door did not burst open.
It gave up.
Wood cracked inward with a slow, aching scream as the broken lock finally surrendered. Splinters fell. Silence followed—thick, waiting.
Veron stood in the doorway.
Half his body drowned in shadow, half carved by the pale lantern glow behind him. His posture was loose. His presence was not. Cold, measuring eyes swept the room—distance, exits, breath.
Inside…
Asha was pressed against the wall above the bed, bare feet barely touching the floor, as if the stone itself had tried to swallow her and failed. Dark hair clung to sweat-damp skin. Her body was lean, trained, coiled tight with fear. Her chest rose sharply with every breath.
So much like Mira it hurt.
Veron's lips curved, just slightly.
"Found you."
Asha swallowed. Her voice came out thin but defiant.
"I heard everything. Don't touch Mira. If you do, Dirak and Skyrend will come for you."
Veron tilted his head, curious.
"Do you really think I fear Dirak," he asked softly, "or Skyrend?"
Asha backed up until stone stopped her. Her hand dropped—steel flashed.
A dagger.
For a heartbeat, instinct screamed fight.
Then reality crushed it.
The dagger slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. She raised her hands.
Too late.
In a blink, Dren was there.
One massive hand closed around her throat and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Her feet kicked uselessly. Air vanished. Panic detonated.
Dren's voice was flat.
"We only need one girl. Why should I leave you alive?"
Asha tried to scream.
The sound that came out was raw and broken. It ripped through the room and down the corridor.
"STOP—!"
Mira burst through the doorway.
Her eyes were red, swollen. Tears streaked her face as she ran forward without thought, without fear—only desperation.
"Veron—please! Please! She came because of me! Don't hurt her! I'll do anything. Anything!"
Veron inhaled.
"Anything…" His smile thinned. "Interesting."
Behind Mira, another figure staggered into view.
Lucen. Hair a mess. Eyes half-lidded with drunken panic.
"What is all this screaming?" he mumbled. "Are you killing someone again?"
Veron raised one hand.
Dren released.
Asha hit the floor hard, coughing as Mira collapsed beside her, arms wrapping tight. Their sobs blended together—small, cracked sounds.
Veron watched them.
Then his voice cut low and sharp.
"I don't hurt women. But I don't give second chances."
He paused.
"One more betrayal," he added calmly, "and I will drown you in blood. Both of you."
Silence.
He turned.
"Come to my room. Now."
He walked out.
Behind him, two sisters clung to each other, shaking.
Minutes later.
Veron's room was spotless.
No broken furniture. No visible violence. Yet the air reeked of iron—the scent of blood that refused to leave.
Dren sat like a king in a chair, arms crossed.
Lucen perched on another, pressing ice to his head, eyes darting.
Mira and Asha sat together on the bed. Fingers intertwined. Backs rigid.
Veron stood by the table.
A small red folder lay atop it.
Official seal. Darinval authority mark. Fresh.
He picked it up.
"I have news."
Lucen swallowed.
"N–News for who?"
"For us."
Veron opened the file.
One sheet slid out.
Photos. Names.
Mira.
Asha.
Veron.
Dren.
Lucen.
The room stopped breathing.
"…A red file," Mira whispered. "Is this an execution order?"
"A wanted list," Veron corrected lightly.
Lucen snapped.
"WHY AM I THERE?! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"
Veron tapped Lucen's name.
"You were present. You saw Fouja's men. And your screaming?" He tilted his head. "Unnecessary."
Dren chuckled.
"Looks like we're family now."
Mira tightened her grip on Asha's hand.
"Veron… Asha has nothing to do with this. Take me. Let her leave."
Asha smacked her.
"Shut up. I'm the older sister."
Veron stepped closer.
"Funny thing," he said quietly. "Her name wasn't on the original plan."
Lucen frowned.
"Plan?"
"Our world," Veron said, "is surrounded by endless walls. Somewhere… there's an exit."
Mira's breath hitched.
"The Ascenders…"
"They search for it," Veron replied. "My goal is farther."
"Farther how?" Asha asked.
"I want all worlds," Veron said calmly. "I want to become Wallstride."
Shock rippled through the room.
Only Dren smiled.
"I'll build my own legion," Veron continued. "I know where the crossing is. The Sacred Forest."
"You were gathering money here," Mira said slowly. "Before entering the Green Ice Kingdom."
"Yes. But Haisik won't let me leave. So I allied with someone stronger."
"…Fouja."
Three million Rizo.
One million already taken.
Wols' jaw shattered.
The rest—payment after Haisik's assassination.
Asha stood abruptly.
"You plan to kill a city head?"
"Easier than you think."
"So we're wanted because of you," Mira said.
"I saved you from slavery," Veron replied. "And spared your lives."
"But we can't return to Dirak without killing you."
"I don't care."
Mira's jaw tightened.
"Then let us join your legion."
Dren laughed.
"I like them."
Veron studied the sisters.
"You don't look like fighters."
"We are," Mira said stubbornly.
Asha paled.
"How did you know I was nearby?"
"I didn't. One of the special forces pointed."
"Special forces…?" Asha whispered.
"I'll accept you," Veron cut in. "Temporary. Prove your worth."
Relief broke through them—laughter, tears, shaking embraces.
Veron and Dren watched in silence.
Then Veron turned to Lucen.
"And you?"
Lucen straightened.
"I'll join," he said. "But I have another goal."
His gaze drifted to the window.
Sunrise spilled gold.
A flash—
A girl in chains.
Gray clothes.
A red tattoo curling over her waist.
Lucen's face stayed still.
But his eyes burned.