Morning — Dungeon Cell

  Isaac was on his knees in a rotten cell, half-buried in mud and old blood.

  The spiked-helmet brute kept hitting him with that iron club—slow, brutal swings that didn’t need skill. Every impact snapped Isaac’s head sideways. His vision smeared. He spat a thick mouthful of blood onto the floor and tried to breathe through it.

  Boots stopped outside.

  The door opened.

  Light spilled in.

  Shapes entered—guards first, then a woman. Everyone bent their heads.

  Isaac forced his eyes up.

  Everything was still blurred… but he knew the posture. The silence around her.

  Yae.

  She didn’t step close. She didn’t need to.

  Yae’s voice came quiet, not angry. Just hollow.

  “...What a disappointment.”

  Isaac tried to speak. Only a broken cough came out.

  Yae’s eyes shined wet. She blinked fast like she hated that anyone could see it.

  “I could’ve given you everything, Isaac.”

  Her voice cracked on his name.

  She turned away sharply and left like running from her own feelings.

  The door shut.

  The brute didn’t stop.

  A kick to Isaac’s ribs. Another to his stomach. Isaac curled, gagged, and tasted iron again.

  The guards finally dragged the brute out.

  Silence dropped back into the cell like a weight.

  Isaac lay there shaking, barely conscious.

  “...Shit,” he whispered.

  Later — The Hall Outside the Cells

  Isaac heard movement. Chains. Bodies being dragged.

  He forced himself to sit against the wall, eyes heavy. Through the bars he saw guards hauling a pile of corpses past the corridor.

  And the brute was with them—giving orders like it owned the place.

  “Take it to disposal,” it said. “I don’t want the queen smelling this.”

  Isaac blinked hard, trying to focus.

  A face rolled into view among the dead.

  Derek.

  Isaac’s breath vanished.

  “No…”

  His throat burned.

  “NO!” he screamed—weak, ruined, but loud enough to hurt.

  The brute pulled a cleaver.

  Isaac watched, frozen, as it began cutting into the bodies like they were meat.

  Isaac’s stomach turned. His eyes watered. His hands shook—useless.

  He tried to stand.

  His legs refused.

  Darkness hit him again.

  Later — Throne Room

  Isaac came back to a harsh pull.

  He was being dragged.

  Mud scraped his skin. Blood stuck his hair to his forehead. Someone threw him down on stone.

  He landed face-first, coughed, and painted the floor red.

  He lifted his head.

  Yae sat on the throne—head lowered, hat shadowing her face. Not looking at him like before.

  Not soft.

  Just… broken.

  Isaac tried to push himself up. His arms trembled and collapsed.

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  Yae’s voice filled the room.

  “For betrayal… and an attack against your queen… you are condemned, Isaac. King of Olympia.”

  Isaac looked up, eyes burning.

  Yae exhaled like saying it hurt her.

  “Bring the other.”

  Guards returned, dragging a woman across the floor and throwing her beside Isaac like garbage.

  Amanda.

  Beaten. Bloody. Unconscious.

  Isaac crawled a few inches to her, desperate.

  “Amanda… Amanda—”

  She didn’t respond.

  Yae’s gaze flicked to Isaac’s hand near Amanda’s shoulder.

  A sharp jealousy crossed her face—fast, ugly, honest.

  Yae’s voice hardened.

  “For betrayal… false identity… theft…”

  She paused, staring at Amanda.

  “Amanda… codename Safira.”

  Isaac’s eyes widened.

  Yae continued, cold now.

  “You will both be sentenced to death. Take them.”

  Guards stepped in.

  But then—

  Amanda’s fingers moved.

  She grabbed Isaac’s hand.

  And she smiled.

  Not sweet. Not calm.

  A ready smile.

  “It’s not over yet,” she breathed. “It’s time.”

  Isaac swallowed. “Time for what?”

  Amanda’s hand slipped to something she’d kept hidden even through all this.

  A capsule.

  She crushed it.

  Something dropped and hit the floor—small and bright.

  A fragment.

  Light bloomed—soft at first, then stronger, growing fast like a living flame.

  People flinched. Guards raised their arms. The whole hall reacted like the light was biting them.

  But Isaac—

  Isaac didn’t look away.

  He stared straight into it.

  And the pain inside him… shifted.

  His cuts closed. Bruises tightened and faded. His lungs opened like someone removed a stone from his chest.

  Isaac stood up.

  Slow.

  Steady.

  He bent, grabbed the glowing fragment with his bare hand—heat pouring into his palm.

  It was fragile. It was already breaking down, dissolving at the edges.

  Isaac clenched his fist around it.

  The light vanished into his skin.

  His body shuddered.

  Power returned—not full...

  But enough.

  Enough to kill.

  Everyone stared.

  Yae stood up so fast her chair scraped.

  Guards rushed him.

  Isaac moved first.

  He caught one by the throat and slammed her into the wall. Another came in—Isaac twisted and threw her across the floor like she weighed nothing.

  Yae’s eyes narrowed.

  Her hand snapped toward Isaac’s neck.

  The collar reacted.

  A magic cord pulled tight—yanking Isaac down.

  Isaac’s jaw clenched.

  He reached up, grabbed the collar with both hands, and held it.

  Yae’s eyes widened.

  Isaac looked straight at her.

  And with one violent pull—

  He ripped the collar off his own neck.

  Skin tore. Blood ran.

  The magic cord burned his hand like a rope of fire.

  Isaac squeezed harder.

  The cord disintegrated into ash.

  Yae stumbled back, staring at her scorched palm.

  “Isaac…” she whispered.

  Isaac didn’t answer.

  He inhaled.

  And screamed.

  A raw, tearing scream that shook dust from the ceiling and cracked stone under his feet.

  The floor split.

  A blast of fury shoved everyone back—guards sliding, chairs tipping, plates flying.

  [Berserk Mode]

  Heat climbed Isaac’s face.

  His skin split—only halfway this time, not full.

  A bright glow lit his bone under the torn flesh.

  His eyes burned blue.

  Guards charged.

  Isaac’s gaze snapped.

  A laser tore through armor—clean, cruel. One guard dropped. Then another. No struggle. Just holes and silence.

  Fire caught along curtains. The room started to burn.

  Yae stood back, frozen.

  Not because she was weak.

  Because she was watching the man she wanted… become something she didn’t control.

  “Isaac…” she said again, voice breaking.

  More guards poured in.

  Isaac stomped his hand into the ground.

  Stone warped. Long cracks ripped forward like tunnels opening.

  Guards fell into sudden holes. Screams rose and cut off.

  Then—

  A heavy impact slammed Isaac’s head.

  The iron club again.

  Isaac staggered but didn’t drop.

  He turned slowly.

  The brute in the spiked helmet stood there, trying to swing again.

  Isaac disappeared in a blur.

  He grabbed the brute by the helmet and smashed it into the wall.

  Once.

  Twice.

  The brute tried to lift the club.

  Isaac pinned its arm.

  Isaac planted his foot on its throat and pressed it into the stone.

  Then Isaac yanked the club-hand back—

  Hard.

  The arm tore with a wet crack.

  The brute dropped to its knees, choking and screaming.

  Isaac picked up the iron club.

  One swing.

  The helmet flew off the neck like it was nothing.

  The body collapsed.

  The remaining guards tried to pull Yae away from the flames.

  Amanda stepped in front of them.

  She was bleeding. Shaking. But her eyes were sharp.

  Amanda drew a blade and went through the guards one by one—fast cuts, clean moves.

  Yae watched, stunned.

  Soon the throne room was empty.

  Only Yae remained.

  Only Amanda remained.

  Only Isaac remained.

  Yae’s voice shook with rage.

  “So you’ll fight me too… traitor?”

  Amanda breathed hard, then looked at Yae.

  “No,” Amanda said. “But he will.”

  Amanda pointed behind her.

  Yae turned.

  Isaac was right there.

  Too close.

  Isaac’s hand clamped around Yae’s throat and lifted her off the ground.

  Yae’s eyes widened. Tears spilled.

  Isaac’s voice came out low, rough, still burning.

  “Take us to your room. Now.”

  Yae trembled.

  Then electricity wrapped the air.

  A veil of lightning swallowed them.

  The Queen’s Room

  They landed in the private room.

  Isaac threw Yae aside. She hit the floor, coughing, hair falling out from under the hat.

  Amanda stepped to Isaac.

  “How’s the fragment?” she asked fast.

  Isaac opened his fist.

  A faint light remained… weaker than before.

  “Fading,” Isaac said. “We don’t have long.”

  Amanda spotted the amulet.

  They grabbed it.

  Amanda seized Yae by the collar and dragged her up.

  “Get us out,” Amanda snapped. “Now.”

  Yae’s voice came strained, stubborn through pain.

  “Never.”

  She looked at Isaac—tears in her eyes, angry and hurt at the same time.

  “Kill me if you want. But you’ll stay here forever.”

  Isaac stared at her for a second.

  Then he said quietly:

  “Let her go.”

  Amanda turned. “What? Isaac—”

  “I know how to leave,” Isaac said. “This place is built like Elysia. It has a seam.”

  Amanda blinked. “Elysia…?”

  Isaac didn’t explain. He just looked up—slow, searching, eyes scanning the edges of the room like he was reading it.

  Then he pointed.

  “There.”

  A thin, wrong line in the air. A crack that didn’t belong.

  Amanda threw Yae down.

  Yae hit the floor, shaking.

  “Isaac…” she whispered.

  Isaac looked back at her.

  His expression wasn’t cold.

  Just tired.

  “Goodbye, Yae,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Yae’s eyes widened like she wanted to say a hundred things at once—and couldn’t choose one.

  Isaac grabbed Amanda.

  “Close your eyes,” he warned. “I don’t know where we’ll land.”

  Amanda obeyed.

  Isaac grabbed Amanda tighter, then launched upward.

  He flew straight to the thin crack in the air—the seam he’d spotted.

  At the last second, he angled his body, shoved through the fenda like breaking through a curtain…

  and they were gone.

  Yae remained on the floor, staring at the empty air.

  Her hands were burned.

  Her chest hurt.

  And for the first time in a long time…

  She cried like a normal person.