Hello, everyone.

  First, thank you for the patience. Volume 1.5 has been both a challenge and a gift to write. The Rats are no longer just surviving. They're making choices. And choices have costs.

  I'm currently deep in the final act of the Volume.

  Volume 1.5: "Decide" will be posted in either March or April.

  Until then, here are two small glimpses of what's waiting in the dark.

  Dozai pushed himself to his knees, his eyes stinging. "Roll call," he rasped, the words scraping raw.

  "Alive," Rizaru's voice came from his left, followed by a pained cough.

  "Here," Nobu, tight and alert.

  "Ugh... Fine," Kenny groaned.

  "Functional," Roi said, her voice trembling with adrenaline.

  As the dust settled, the gloom resolved into a scene of methodical horror.

  The walls were smooth, reinforced stone, not rough cave.

  To his right, a massive preservation tank lay shattered, glass shards like teeth around its base. A thick, gelatinous fluid had long ago seeped out, leaving a stained pool on the floor.

  Ahead, metal gurneys stood bolted to the floor, their surfaces stained a permanent, rust-brown.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  And the chains. They were thick as his forearm, ending in manacles sized not for a human wrist, but for something with the girth of a tree trunk. One set was snapped, the broken link lying on the floor.

  There were no bones gnawed clean. No nests of refuse.

  This was a place where things had been taken apart. Studied. Kept.

  The shared understanding settled over them, colder than the air.

  They stood in the heart of the Deep Dark's secret and the secret was a room.

  His trajectory changed mid-stride, not toward Anabia's group, not toward the exit, not toward victory.

  Toward the space between.

  His eyes went still.

  The stillness of something that had stopped asking for permission.

  The mask didn't crack. It didn't need to.

  It had simply... ceased to matter.

  Teeth bared in focus so absolute it looked like something feral and hungry.

  What do I want? What do I want?

  WHAT DO I WANT?

  The question became a rhythm.

  A mantra. A prayer.

  I want—

  I WANT—

  And then, rising from somewhere deeper than thought—

  He didn't have words for it yet. Couldn't name it. Could only feel it.

  A hunger that wasn't like Lucious's emptiness, wasn't like Kota's need to be seen, wasn't like Delnora's twisted joy.

  A hunger for something more.

  For a path that wasn't just the right thing. Wasn't just winning or losing.

  Wasn't just survival.

  What to expect in Volume 1.5:

  The Deep Dark is not a punishment. It's an orientation. The Rats will learn what the camp is really built on and what the Kingdom is willing to do to build it. Lucious will teach them what it means to survive as a predator. Delnora will show them that monsters aren't born; they're made. And Kota will force them to answer the question none of them want to face:

  What are humans if not memories? And if that's true, does it matter what we become in the end?

  Thank you for reading. Thank you for waiting.

  Stay tuned for more!

  A quick note on the numbering:

  But for now, Volume 1.5 needs to prepare them for that.