home

search

Interrogation

  During the gala, I found myself trapped in conversations with strangers. I didn’t like being the center of attention; I would have preferred to be with my friends and my sister, just enjoying the night together. But at some point, we got separated.

  A fatal mistake.

  Suddenly, screams filled the room. Senators, politicians, businessmen… one after another, they began collapsing to the ground.

  Panic spread like a wave. I looked around, desperately searching for my friends. Naoko, Miguel, Kiomi… they were all fine. But something was missing.

  Lyra.

  The air felt heavy when I saw her. She was staggering, her legs barely holding her up. Her body trembled, her face was pale, her eyes glassy. My heart stopped.

  I ran.

  I shoved aside anyone in my way. I didn’t care about the screams or the chaos around me; I had only one goal—to reach her before she fell.

  But I wasn’t fast enough.

  By the time I reached her, her body was already giving in to gravity. I managed to catch her before she hit the ground, but her gaze was unfocused, her breathing weak, her skin cold.

  —LYRA! —I screamed with all my might, but my voice was lost in the uproar.

  People ran back and forth, no one stopped. No one saw her.

  Then, Naoko and Miguel arrived. Miguel took control immediately.

  —Stop all the staff! No one leaves this place! —his voice thundered through the hall.

  Kiomi, who had just caught up to us, didn’t hesitate for a second and used her chains to block the exits.

  —There’s a hospital nearby —Naoko said urgently—. If we run, we’ll make it in time.

  I didn’t hesitate. I lifted her in my arms and ran.

  The rain hit hard, soaking our clothes, blurring my vision. Each step felt eternal, each second was torture.

  Lyra always loved the rain. She used to say she liked watching TV while the raindrops fell or reading a book with the sound in the background.

  I always hated it.

  And now, under that very same rain, I was holding her in my arms, fighting the fear of losing her. When we reached the hospital, we barged into the emergency room. The doctors barely looked at Lyra before jumping into action. Her condition was critical.

  They took her away, and I stayed there, soaked, with the emptiness in my chest growing with every passing second.

  After what felt like hours of waiting, the doctor finally came out to give us news about her condition.

  My heart was pounding, but when we entered Lyra’s room, something stopped inside me. There she was, lying there, so peaceful, so unaware of the chaos she had been through. The silence of the room was so thick I could barely breathe, as if the very air had gotten trapped between the walls.

  The sound of the rain hitting the window was deafening, but even more terrifying was the constant monitoring of her vital signs, the soft and regular beep that, in my mind, was becoming increasingly distant.

  The doctor quickly explained. Lyra had been poisoned.

  It was hard to process what he was saying. Apparently, it was something she had ingested. The poison spread quickly through her body. However, somehow, it hadn’t killed her. Instead, it had left her in a coma-like state. Her breathing was steady, her vital signs intact, but something else had happened. She was trapped in a limbo between wakefulness and sleep.

  Everything had happened too fast, like a dream I couldn’t wake up from. My mind couldn’t process it. I collapsed to my knees, my body seeming to crumble along with the reality around me.

  And then, one word, just one word, echoed in my mind.

  —Could she have ingested it? —I asked the doctor, my voice choked by the fear still tightening my chest.

  —Yes, it seems that could have been the case —he replied, not adding more.

  —Alright. —I wasn’t sure if I was answering myself or some darker impulse beginning to form inside me.

  I quickly stood up, ignoring the pain running through me. I couldn’t stay there. Miguel stayed at the hospital with Lyra, taking care of her and notifying Alexander about what had happened.

  My only thought was to go back to the gala.

  When I arrived, I saw that Kiomi had taken control, binding all the staff. Her gaze was as cold as steel, as determined as always.

  —Check their necks —I said without hesitation, my voice sharp, firm.

  —Why? —Naoko asked, confused.

  —Judas once told me that everyone from the EDI has to get a black sun tattoo on the back of their neck —I said, almost breathless. My suspicion was materializing. —I have a strong suspicion that one of them could have been involved.

  Although they were still doubtful, they did it.

  And there it was. One of the employees had the tattoo.

  —Tell me, what did you do? —I asked, my voice low and cutting, the threat palpable in the air.

  The waiter looked at me with terrified eyes, but didn’t say anything.

  —I didn’t do anything —he murmured, clearly lying.

  I moved closer, my patience running thin. I grabbed one of the weapons from the guards stationed at the venue, the weight of the metal in my hand serving as a reminder of what I was willing to do.

  —I’ll tell you something —I said with a calmness that contrasted with the danger in my words. —I don’t have patience right now. Either you tell me what I want to know, or I’ll get the information from your rotting corpse myself.

  His face went pale, but he tried to stay firm.

  —I didn’t… —he began, but he didn’t finish.

  Without warning, I pulled the trigger. The sound reverberated through the air, and the waiter, horrified, noticed the flash of the gun. His breathing quickened, and fear reflected in his eyes.

  —Alright! Alright, I’ll tell you! —he said, finally giving in, his voice broken by fear. —They told me to put poison in the drinks of several important people, but your sister wasn’t a target. It was supposed to be you who drank the beverage.

  My face hardened at hearing that.

  —And who told you to do it? —I demanded to know, each word cutting through the air.

  —The people from the embassy —he replied, his tone now full of desperation. —They told me to kill everyone, to kill myself with a cyanide capsule... but I dropped it in the chaos.

  That was all I needed to hear. I straightened up immediately, knowing what I had to do. But before I could take a step, I felt someone grab my hand.

  It was Kiomi.

  —What are you going to do? —her voice was filled with concern.

  I didn’t answer, my mind already fixed on what came next. I tried to move forward, but she wouldn’t let go.

  —They’ll recognize you if you go like that. You shouldn’t ruin your public image. —Her words echoed in my mind, but my determination was stronger than any concern.

  Then, as if everything clicked, I saw the doctor I had spoken with at the beginning of the gala. An idea formed in my mind, a strategy that could give us the advantage.

  —Doctor. —I called him firmly.

  He looked at me, surprised by my tone.

  —Yes? How can I help you? —he replied, not understanding what I meant.

  —Do you remember the armor you told me about? —I asked, a spark of strategy lighting up in my eyes.

  The doctor didn’t respond immediately, but his expression shifted slightly.

  At midnight, I found myself in front of the EDI embassy. I knew we couldn’t trust them, and that all of this was part of a much larger game we were just beginning to become aware of. The attack, the public calm, everything seemed to fit into a dark puzzle that was only starting to reveal itself.

  I approached, listening to the rain hitting the helmet. In front of the entrance, two guards blocked my way, their cold, unwavering gazes.

  —Who are you?! Huh? Get lost! —one of the guards shouted, his voice filled with arrogance.

  Without saying a word, I summoned my sword, but not the one I usually wielded. No. This time, I gripped the one Lucian had left me. The steel gleamed with a cold light, reflecting the light from the room.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  In the blink of an eye, I cleaved them in half, both falling to the ground without a chance to react. Not a single scream was heard. In an instant, all that was left of them were two lifeless halves. I didn’t pause for a second longer. I entered without thinking.

  I barred the door with an unyielding coldness, using a piece of metal I bent with my hands. I slammed it shut with a resounding crash, ensuring that no one could escape. I knew this was the only entrance, and the only exit. None of those bastards were leaving alive.

  As I moved through the dark hallway, more soldiers awaited me. Well, they weren’t soldiers. They were just guards, poorly trained and armed. They began firing at me without thinking.

  I must admit it: the armor I’d been given was a masterpiece. Every bullet that came toward me bounced off effortlessly, as if nothing could penetrate it. The force of the impact pushed me slightly back, but I didn’t stop. I deflected the bullets with ease, as if they were nothing more than insignificant mosquitoes.

  With every step, I wiped them out, not with agility, but with a lethal calmness, crushing any resistance as if they were mere ants. I didn’t waste a second, and after dispatching several of them, I finally reached the ambassador’s office.

  I was met by an arrogant man, completely disconnected from reality. He was sitting, smoking a cigarette and drinking, as if nothing was happening outside his office.

  My presence, however, did not go unnoticed. As I approached, his expression shifted to one of discomfort. But he wasn’t scared yet. His cold, disdainful gaze scanned me from head to toe.

  —What do you want? Get out of here, I don’t have time to waste... —he said, his voice dripping with contempt.

  Rage overtook me in an instant. I grabbed his tie with brutal force, pulling it until his face was mere inches from mine. His eyes widened in shock as he noticed the bloodstain I had left in my wake.

  —You and I are going to talk —I growled, my voice low and filled with venom.

  The man, now more aware of the gravity of the situation, tried to resist, but fear was beginning to take control of him. I interrogated him mercilessly, every word that left his mouth crumbling in the face of the fury contained in my gaze. At first, the guy refused to speak, trying to maintain an air of superiority, but soon realized that facade was fragile.

  I used what I had at hand to make him understand: there was no escape. Through "intimidation" and a couple of "actions," his resistance crumbled.

  —What kind of poison is it? —I asked, my voice as cold as the steel I held in my hands.

  —One that’s never been seen here, but in the Empire, yes —he replied, his voice trembling, no longer filled with pride.

  —Empire? —I repeated, almost not believing what I was hearing.

  The man, desperate to save what little dignity he had left, tried to explain himself.

  —Sorry, we call it the EDI there, for its acronym: the Imperial Democratic State.

  My mind spun as I heard those words. Everything clicked into place now. The EDI...

  —Continue —I ordered, not moving, knowing the information he held could change everything.

  —The poison is something special, created by the best scientists. It was made from the blood of our great leader, the Supreme Commander, whom they also call the Führer —he said, not even daring to look me in the eyes.

  My patience was running thin, but his answer was still too cryptic.

  —So what? —I demanded, my voice deep, as if every word were an order. —Tell me, what’s the cure?

  He let out a bitter laugh, almost as if the situation was something laughable.

  —There is no cure —he said, with a disconcerting indifference, as if saying it without thinking. —At least, that's what they believe.

  Incredulity filled me.

  —What do you mean? —I asked, my eyes locked on him, not moving them for a second.

  —No one who's been poisoned has survived —he continued, fear growing in his eyes as he saw the rage in mine. —Your sister is an exception, maybe they gave her the wrong dose. That can happen. The dose has to be precise for it to work.

  My breathing became heavier, and hatred clouded my vision.

  —And what does that have to do with me? Tell me what the damn cure is! —I exploded, stepping closer, gritting my teeth.

  He seemed to enjoy my suffering, or at least made it seem that way.

  —Oh, prince, there isn’t one. Didn’t you hear me? —he said, mocking me now, as if it was a game for him. —Though it’s rumored that the only thing that can counter the poison and act as a "cure" would be killing the Führer directly.

  The air in the room grew thick. My eyes narrowed, not out of surprise, but because of the implicit challenge in his words. Kill the Führer? Is that all that was left?

  He continued, unaware that his words were digging his own grave.

  —...But you’ll never do that —he laughed to himself, his cruel smile full of confidence. —Beyond this galaxy, there’s a territory you’ve never explored. It’s all controlled by the Empire. You’d never succeed, even if you wanted to.

  That was the last thing he said.

  A deadly silence settled between us. Everything in me wanted to destroy him, erase those words from the universe. Rage consumed me, faster than the poison they’d put in my sister.

  —Well, prince? —he asked, defiantly, as if he thought he had won. —Is there anything else you want to know?

  Rage exploded inside me, so powerful that I couldn't even control what happened next.

  —Who ordered my sister to be poisoned? —my voice came out hoarse, filled with fury.

  His face lit up in a grotesque way, still confident, thinking he was beyond my reach.

  —Clearly, it was me —he replied with a sadistic smile. —What are you going to do, huh?

  It wasn’t fear that I saw in his eyes, but the certainty that he had crossed a line.

  I stood up with a furious blow, not thinking of the consequences, only the pain his answer caused me.

  I grabbed his head with one hand, like it was a bowling ball, and dragged him outside.

  —Wait... What are you going to do to me? —he shouted, now clearly scared, his mocking tone gone.

  —Wait! —he tried to reason, his voice weak, pleading. —Let's talk about this! I’m telling you to wait!

  …

  We waited at the gala, the atmosphere had become oppressive, thick like the smoke of a bonfire. Kiomi released the staff after identifying the culprit, but the feeling of unease remained. Zein had run off, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty. His interrogation had been more than brusque, almost inhumane.

  The air was thick with unanswered questions when Miguel arrived, running, his face soaked from the rain, worry written on every wrinkle.

  —Lyra is... stable, halfway —he said, his words stumbling over each other—. She’s fallen into a coma due to the poison. The doctors don’t know if there’s a cure or how to wake her up.

  A silence overtook us. Each second that passed without knowing what to do weighed heavier than the last.

  —Alexander stayed at the hospital to take care of Lyra —Miguel continued, trying to sound optimistic—. I came here as fast as I could.

  His gaze scanned the room, desperately searching for someone who wasn’t there.

  —Where is Zein? —he asked, urgency flashing in his eyes.

  —We don’t know —Kiomi responded, her voice barely a whisper—. When I tried to stop him, I saw a cold look on his face. —Her hand pressed against her chest, as if trying to contain the fear that threatened to spill over—. I hope he doesn’t do anything reckless.

  The uncertainty suffocated us. It was as if the air had become dense, hard to breathe.

  —We should go look for him —Miguel said, firm—. Any idea where he could be?

  My mind began to work quickly, connecting dots that barely outlined themselves in the darkness.

  —The infiltrator said his orders came from the embassy. Maybe Zein is there.

  Our gazes met, and without needing more words, we knew there was no time to lose.

  —We need to go, fast —Miguel said, his eyes blazing with fierce determination—. Naoko, Kiomi.

  —Let’s go —we responded in unison, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on us.

  We ran toward the embassy, our footsteps muffled by the relentless rain. The cold water mixed with the burning heat of our concern, intensifying every step we took.

  I had always thought of rain as a bad omen, and this time, my worst fears seemed to be coming true.

  As we drew closer, a sour odor began to fill the air, a mix of smoke and something darker, something more sinister. The light of the fire sliced through the darkness of the night, a hellish glow that drew us in like moths to a flame.

  When we finally arrived, we found a restless crowd and police barricades. Firefighters and police officers grouped together like shadows in the night, their faces unreadable under the flickering light of the flames.

  —Why aren’t they doing anything? —I asked, the anger and desperation mixing in my voice.

  Miguel took the lead, showing his ID and managing to get us through the barricades.

  What we saw beyond them was a nightmarish sight.

  The embassy was engulfed in flames that didn’t seem natural, as if hell itself had been unleashed within its walls. The flames twisted and consumed the building with a hunger I had never seen before.

  Every spark, every fragment of structure crumbling, felt like a heartbeat of the tragedy unfolding before us.

  On the roof, barely a few meters away from us, there was someone.

  At first glance, they seemed crucified, but something was wrong. It wasn’t a planned execution, but rather an improvised, cruel act. My eyes widened in horror as I took a closer look at the scene.

  I was left speechless.

  The victim’s body had a hole in the stomach. It wasn’t just a simple hole that passed through side to side. It was a meticulous, precise cut, like a dissection. The entrails hung outside the body, entangled in the metal tube that held them in place, like twisted ropes that kept them tethered.

  And worst of all... they were still alive.

  They screamed.

  A rasping, inhuman sound that froze the blood in my veins.

  The sockets of his eyes were bulging, as if his own suffering had tried to tear them out. His skin was marked with multiple wounds, fresh scars that spoke of methodical torture.

  Horror consumed me entirely. I felt nauseous, my stomach twisted violently.

  I was about to run and bring him down. Out of pity, out of instinct, to do something in the face of the monstrosity before me.

  But then he appeared.

  Zein.

  He emerged from the flames like a creature from hell itself. The fire surrounded him, consuming the building behind him, yet his silhouette remained unshaken, dark, unyielding.

  It was like that dream.

  The one that had haunted me for a year after defeating Sora. Zein wrapped in flames, walking through destruction as if he belonged to it.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  In his hand, he held a man.

  A guard, it seemed. He gripped his head with a cold, calculated hold.

  Zein didn’t look like Zein.

  His armor was stained with blood, as if he had submerged himself in it. But it wasn’t the same armor he usually wore, not even his helmet was the same.

  The man in his hands was still breathing. His skin was charred, his body filled with burns. He had no strength to scream, only to beg.

  Zein tossed him to the ground carelessly, as if he were a broken object.

  The guard tried to crawl away from him. With the little life left in him, he mumbled desperate pleas, trembling, trying to distance himself from his fate.

  But Zein didn’t listen.

  He didn’t even bend down.

  With a single motion, he raised his foot and crushed him.

  The sound of the skull cracking made me hold back my vomit. Blood spread across the floor like a liquid shadow.

  I expected the crowd to react in horror. For someone to scream. For them to run.

  But no.

  They weren’t scared.

  They were happy.

  “Long live! Kill them all! Let those bastards burn!”

  The crowd cheered.

  They called him “The Reaper.”

  I covered my mouth with both hands. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stand it. I dropped to my knees, feeling weak, dizzy, as if the whole world had turned unreal.

  Miguel and Kiomi reacted before I did. They approached Zein.

  Kiomi looked at him with concern. Miguel, with fury.

  “Who is he?” Miguel growled, pointing at the man hanging. “And why do you have him there?”

  Zein didn’t answer.

  He just looked at us in silence.

  “Should I assume he’s the ambassador?” Miguel broke the silence, his voice filled with disbelief and rage.

  Zein didn’t answer.

  His gaze was opaque, distant, as if he were in another world, in a state where reason no longer mattered.

  “Why?” Kiomi asked, her tone reflecting something more than concern. It was fear.

  The silence became unbearable.

  Then, Zein exploded.

  With a sharp movement, he grabbed Kiomi’s shoulders with force.

  Too much strength.

  He shoved her back, gripping her so tightly that her expression twisted in pain. Kiomi gasped, terrified. I was scared too. I had never seen him like this.

  “Why?!” His voice thundered with contained rage, with fury that seemed to have been repressed for far too long. “Don’t you see, Kiomi?! All the damage they’ve done to us! This is the least they deserve!”

  “That’s not true…”

  Miguel didn’t hesitate. He intervened in an instant.

  With one tug, he pulled Zein away from Kiomi. He grabbed him by his armor as if it were a simple shirt and pulled him toward him with force.

  “We don’t do things like this.” His voice was a low growl, a warning. “Don’t become like them.”

  “And what if I do?”

  Miguel gritted his teeth.

  “Damn you.”

  They both stood in silence. A battle of glances, of emotions held back, of everything they couldn’t say with words.

  The only thing breaking the silence was the ambassador’s screams.

  Constant screams of pain.

  Zein shoved Miguel’s hands away with a sharp movement. He turned without saying anything and began to walk away.

  “You’re just going to leave like this?” Miguel called out, his voice full of frustration.

  Zein didn’t stop.

  He didn’t even look back.

  He kept walking. Toward us.

  When he was close enough, his gaze locked with mine.

  I trembled.

  I couldn’t move.

  For the first time, I was afraid of him.

  He said nothing. He just kept walking.

  He vanished into the darkness of the night.

  The screams didn’t stop.

  And that night, society didn’t see a monster.

  They saw a hero.

  They saw a Reaper.

Recommended Popular Novels