Chapter 5: Confession in Chains

The pain had returned.

It was a dull throb behind her eyes, a burn in her bones. A whisper crawling beneath her skin, reminding her that she hadn't drawn blood in days. No screams, no shuddering agony to siphon. No fuel.

Aria sat in the back of the classroom, gaze fixed on the window, but she wasn’t looking at the sky. She was thinking about Ren.

That boy—quiet, unreadable, detached—he had ruined everything.

When she tried to bring him to the Black Cage, to flay his nerves and crack his soul, something had gone wrong. He hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t begged. He hadn’t felt.

And now she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

She waited until the day bled into evening. The classroom emptied, the halls thinned. Only the hum of the vending machine down the corridor reminded her that the world still spun.

Ren was still at his desk, pencil tapping against his notebook.

She approached.

He looked up, eyes as calm as always. "You need something?"

"Yes," she said. Her voice was cold, steady. "I need you to come with me."

His gaze lingered on hers. He didn't argue.

She took him by the arm—not gently—and led him through the abandoned halls. When they reached the end of the corridor, she turned, lips parting.

"Divide."

The world fractured.

They stood in a chamber of absolute black. The Black Cage.

The walls were made of dark stone, veins of crimson mana pulsing beneath the surface. Chains hung from above, rattling softly even though there was no wind. The floor was smooth, silent, endless.

Ren looked around but said nothing.

Aria faced him. "You're not like the others. I don't know what you are. But you need to see what I do."

She extended her hand. A victim appeared—bound, gagged, eyes wide with terror. A lowlife she'd marked days ago. His sins didn’t matter. Only his pain did.

Aria raised her hand.

The air shimmered as mana surged. Spindles of glowing steel twisted into shape—an array of blades, pincers, hooks, and coils of wire, each intricate and elegant as glasswork. One floated toward the man, then another.

She began her work.

Pain bloomed in the air like perfume. The man shrieked as the instruments kissed his flesh, burrowed into his mind, tore apart his nerves. Aria moved with precision, not cruelty. Every motion was art.

She fed on it.

As his suffering escalated, her body stopped aching. Her mana surged. A faint glow radiated from her chest, from her veins.

She turned to Ren, expecting him to look away.

He was watching. Still calm.

"This," she said, wiping blood from her fingertips, "is how I survive."

He said nothing.

"Five years ago," she continued, voice lower now, "something cursed me. I call it the Entity. I don’t know what it is. I don’t even know why it chose me. But the curse it gave me—"

She paused, fingers tightening.

"When I inflict pain, I gain mana. I can use it for anything. But if I stop, if I go too long without it..."

She glanced at her trembling hands.

"The pain turns inward. It feeds on me."

Ren finally spoke. "And you want to destroy it."

"Yes." Her voice was firm. "I have to. I don’t know why. I just know that I need to reach it. And when I do... I’ll kill it."

He nodded slowly.

Then, without looking away, he said, "I had a dream once. I was a kid. My father used to beat me. And one night, when I was barely breathing, a voice came to me. It asked if I wanted to be free."

She blinked. "And you said yes?"

"That's right. And after that, I never felt pain again. Not from him. Not from anyone."

Aria's breath caught. She stared at him, heart tightening.

"The Entity," she whispered.

"Maybe," he said.

She looked at him longer. This boy. This mystery. A puzzle she hadn’t solved. A crack in the design.

"Why aren’t you afraid of me?"

"Because you’re not doing this for fun," Ren said. "You’re doing it because you have to."

The victim was gone. The tools vanished. The Black Cage faded as she dismissed it.

They were back in the classroom, quiet and dim.

As he turned to leave, Ren glanced back.

"Do you enjoy it?"

Aria didn’t answer right away.

"No," she said. "I endure it."

And then she was alone again, staring at her hands, still faintly glowing with stolen mana.