Chapter 6: Harvest of Agony

The room dissolved into darkness once more — the Black Cage, endless and cold. Aria’s footsteps echoed as she moved with calculated purpose. Chains clinked softly from the ceiling, swaying like cruel metronomes in her growing symphony of suffering.

Before her, dozens of figures writhed—bound, broken, each a vessel of exquisite torment. Faces twisted in agony, mouths silent beneath gags, eyes pleading for mercy that would never come.

Aria’s gaze was sharp, unyielding.

She raised her hands, weaving mana with precision. From the void between her fingers, instruments of exquisite cruelty bloomed: whips serrated like shattered glass, pincers that clenched like iron traps, needles finer than spider silk, all dancing at her command.

Pain was her offering. Pain was her power.

The victims screamed internally, their suffering a chorus feeding her curse. Each flicker of anguish sent ripples of mana surging through her veins, a blazing furnace beneath her skin.

Ren stood at the edge of the chamber, watching silently. His eyes flickered with something like awe—and maybe a trace of fear.

“You never falter,” he said quietly.

Aria’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Faltering is death.”

She moved among them, a merciless artist painting agony. With each strike, her body pulsed with renewed strength. The dull ache inside her receded, replaced by a burning vitality.

Her curse demanded sacrifice—and she paid it gladly.

“This is only the beginning,” she murmured, voice hard as stone. “The world will drown in pain before I am done.”

She turned toward Ren, eyes burning with fierce resolve. “Mercy is a lie. Compassion is weakness. To destroy the Entity, I must become something beyond humanity.”

Ren swallowed but said nothing.

Aria extended her hand, and the Black Cage expanded, tendrils of shadow reaching outward, ready to ensnare more souls, to harvest more suffering.

Her hunger was endless.

Her reign had only just begun.