Slowly regaining consciousness, Arthur opened his eyes to nothing but darkness. A single drop of water landed on his forehead, sending a cold shiver down his spine.
"Ugh… where am I?" he muttered, his voice echoing in the silence.
As he tried to move, he realized his hands were bound together, tightly sealed by something unyielding. He struggled, twisting and pulling, but it was useless. With a deep sigh, he slumped back, frustration settling in.
"Oh, you're awake, kid?" a shaky voice called out.
Arthur tensed. "Huh? Who's there?"
Though he couldn't see anything, he could sense someone standing before him. A sudden flicker of light broke through the darkness—flames erupted in the stranger's hand, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
Before Arthur stood an old man with long, unkempt hair, his sharp eyes glinting behind a pair of worn glasses.
"Who are you?" Arthur asked again, his voice steadier this time.
The old man chuckled, his laughter dry and weary. "Haha… No one."
Arthur's gaze dropped to his legs—his ankle was chained to the wall. But his hands… they were free.
"What?" he muttered, his tone blank with confusion.
The old man smirked. "Well, I have no name after all."
Arthur frowned. "How is that possible?"
Still holding the flame in his hand, the man sat down, exhaling slowly. "Something ate my name."
Arthur's confusion deepened. "What? How can something eat a name?"
Leaning against the wall, the old man conjured a cigarette with a flick of his magic. He lit it with the fire in his palm, taking a slow drag before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.
"There are things in this world you don't want to know, kid," he murmured.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
The man let out a dry chuckle. "Never mind… You'll forget me anyway."
Arthur stiffened. "What?"
In the blink of an eye, the old man was gone—vanished as if he had never existed.
So was Arthur's memory of him.
"Ah! Where am I?" Arthur gasped, his mind scrambling for answers.
Looking around, he found his arms locked in restraints, but his legs were free. Instinctively, he tried to channel his aura into his legs to break free—
BZZT!
A sudden, searing pain shot through his chest. His heart clenched, his body convulsing as if something were forcefully rejecting his power.
"Gakh—!" he choked out, his scream echoing through the darkness.
He gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his forehead.
"What the hell… is this…?"
A guard in a cloak slowly opened the cell door and dragged Arthur out.
"Where are we going?" Arthur asked calmly.
The guard didn't answer—perhaps he didn't hear, or maybe he simply chose to ignore the question. He continued dragging Arthur down a dimly lit corridor until they arrived at a round room.
In the center of the room, strange symbols covered the floor—letters or markings Arthur couldn't recognize. A pattern of interlocking square lines stretched across the surface, but something was missing. The middle section was empty, as if something had been removed or had taken its place.
"Wrong child, damn it!" the man in the middle screamed in rage, still wearing a cloak.
"Wait... it's not this one?" the guard muttered, glancing at Arthur in confusion.
From the edge of the room, a man with red hair chuckled.
"It's the interesting one I fought," he said with amusement. "The one you were supposed to bring is in the other cell."
"What the hell is this place?" Arthur asked, his voice calm.
"You're pretty composed for a child," the red-haired man remarked.
"Well, it's not the first time I've been captured," Arthur replied.
Just as he spoke, a scream echoed through the room.
"Let me go!" a girl's voice cried out.
Arthur recognized it instantly. It was Alice.
"Oh, it's her," he said, still unfazed.
"Now that's the child. Take this boy back," the cloaked man ordered.
A guard grabbed Arthur and began dragging him toward the exit. But just before the door closed, Arthur caught a glimpse of Alice—her back exposed as her clothes were torn apart.
His eyes widened. The missing pattern from the room—it was on her back.
"Wait a minute—" Arthur blurted out.
As Arthur was dragged back to his cell, his mind raced, searching for a way to escape. But before he could think further, a familiar sound reached his ears—ragged breathing, weak and strained.
He froze.
"Leclerc?" he called out hesitantly.
"Alhu?" a garbled voice responded.
Arthur turned his head, stepping closer. His stomach twisted at the sight before him.
Leclerc stood there, barely human anymore. His hands had been severed, wrapped in stained bandages. One of his eyes was missing, leaving behind only an empty socket. His tongue had been cut out, and his teeth—gone.
"The fuck they done to you?"
Leclerc didn't answer