Zeroes

The stone walls wept moisture in the suffocating darkness. Iron torches mounted in rusted brackets casting flickering shadows that danced across the cramped chamber, their weak light barely penetrating the gloom.

Clink!

Heavy chains scraped against rough stone as the figure shifted slightly. 

Thick iron shackles bound wrists to the wall behind, forcing an unnatural posture, knees drawn up, back pressed against the cold rock. The metal had worn raw patches into pale skin over countless hours.

A leather gag pulled tight between their cracked lips, secured with iron buckles that bit into the corners of a mouth. Above it, eyes that might have once held warmth now stared forward with hollow resignation.

Drip! Drip! Drip!

Water collected somewhere in the darkness, each drop echoing through the chamber like a countdown.

Strange symbols covered every surface, carved deep into the stone walls, etched into metal plates bolted over doorframes, even burned into the wooden ceiling beams. They pulsed with a faint, sickly green glow that seemed to drink in the torchlight rather than reflect it.

Around the prisoner's wrists, thick cuffs of black metal hummed with an energy that made the air itself feel dead. 

More artifacts hung from iron chains, talismans and amulets that created overlapping fields of suppression, each one designed to cage something that wasn't meant to be caged.

Clank! Clank!

Then, heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor beyond the reinforced door. Metal scraped against stone as armored guards shifted their positions outside. 

Through the gaps in the iron-banded wood came muffled voices, too low to make out words but carrying the weight of men who stood watch over something they feared.

Inside the chamber, one guard sat on a simple wooden stool, never taking his eyes off the chained figure. His hand rested on his sword hilt, knuckles white with tension that never seemed to ease.

The prisoner's chest rose and fell in the shallow rhythm of someone who had learned to breathe around despair.

SLAM!

A thick stack of papers struck the prisoner's face, the parchment rough against already bruised skin. The guard leaned forward, close enough that spittle hit the man's cheek as he spoke.

"What's this?" The guard's voice cracked with barely controlled fury. "What the hell is going on now? Why the dungeons are breaking just after their formation. Why the monsters are flooding, running over innocent villagers."

The prisoner raised his head slowly, revealing silver hair matted with dried blood and sweat. Beneath tangled strands, eyes the color of winter storms met the guard's gaze without flinching. There was something unsettling in that stare, not defeat, but a cold amusement that made the guard's hand tighten on his sword.

The guard's breathing grew heavier as he stared into those pale gray eyes. Finally, with jerky, angry movements, he reached around and unbuckled the leather gag.

Click!

The prisoner worked his jaw slowly, tongue darting out to wet cracked lips. He took several deep breaths, savoring the simple act of breathing freely. Then his mouth curved into a smirk that was all sharp edges and dark promises.

"Why..." His voice was rough from disuse, barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly in the stone chamber. "Do you think I did that?"

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and the guard took an involuntary step backward.

The guard's face contorted with rage, veins bulging at his temples as he hissed through clenched teeth. "Who else could've done this but you, traitor?"

His armored fist trembled at his side, barely containing the urge to strike.

The prisoner's chuckle was like ice cracking, dark, cold, and utterly without warmth. It echoed off the stone walls, seeming to multiply in the shadows before dying away.

"Me?" His voice dripped with mock surprise, head tilting at an angle that made the chains rattle softly. "A traitor?"

His smirk widened, revealing teeth stained with old blood.

"How very... funny."

The way he drew out that last word made it sound like anything but humor. There was something predatory in his pale gray eyes now.

The guard took another step back despite himself, his hand now clenched into fist.

Then...

CRACK!

He punched the prisoner's jaw, snapping his head to the side with brutal force. Blood splattered against the stone wall.

THUD!

Another blow. Then another. Each impact sent fresh droplets of crimson across the chamber floor. The prisoner's lip split, blood trickling down his chin in steady streams.

But through it all, he laughed.

Not screams or pleas, just that same dark, hollow laughter that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his throat. It bounced off the walls, growing louder instead of weaker with each punch.

The guard finally stepped back, chest heaving, knuckles bloody inside his metal gloves. He grabbed the prisoner's collar and yanked him forward as far as the chains would allow.

"Why?" The word came out as a broken sob. "Why are you doing this? Haven't you had enough already? You already had..."

Tears were brimming in the guard's eyes now, threatening to spill over. His voice cracked with barely contained anguish.

The prisoner listened with that same amused expression, head tilted like he was watching a child throw a tantrum. Blood continued to drip from his split lip, but his pale gray eyes sparkled with cold entertainment.

"How is Ela?" he asked softly, though the smirk never leaving his face.

The guard froze completely. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the steady drip of water somewhere in the darkness.

Then his boot connected with the prisoner's face.

CRUNCH!

"Don't you dare say her name with your filthy mouth!"

The prisoner's head lolled back, more blood now, but he was still smiling. "Why? I'm simply asking about your wife's health."

His tone was conversational, almost friendly, which somehow made it infinitely more horrifying.

"Shut the fuck up!" The guard's voice broke completely, raw with grief and rage. 

"I know how worried you are, as if you weren't the one who did it in the first place!"

The prisoner again chuckled.

"Well, tell me Sam, how you feel it now-" 

SLAM!

Another punch silenced him, sending his head snapping back against the stone wall. Blood painted fresh streaks across the already stained rock.

The guard stood there for a moment, shoulders shaking, before turning on his heel and storming out. His heavy boots echoed down the corridor until the sound faded into nothing.

Click!

The reinforced door slammed shut, leaving only the whisper of torchlight and the eternal dripping of water.

Silence fell over the chamber like a suffocating blanket.

The prisoner sat there in his chains, blood slowly congealing on his split lip and bruised face. 

But his expression... his expression was pure amusement. Those pale gray eyes sparkled with dark satisfaction, as if everything had gone exactly according to plan.

He looked around the chamber, at the suppression runes, the anti-mana cuffs, the layers upon layers of magical restraints designed to hold something that shouldn't be able to be held.

And he smiled wider.

The torchlight flickered across his bloodied features, casting dancing shadows that made his expression look almost demonic. In the oppressive silence of his prison, something that sounded suspiciously like a quiet chuckle echoed off the stone walls.

"Come out," the prisoner said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're gone now."

Silence stretched through the chamber. The torches continued their eternal flickering, casting the same dancing shadows they always had.

Nothing moved.

Then, without even the whisper of displaced air, one of those shadows seemed to... thicken. It peeled away from the wall like liquid darkness, taking shape as it moved.

The figure that materialized made no sound as it dropped to one knee beside the chained prisoner. It had no face that could be seen, no features that caught the torchlight. It was simply absence given form, a void in the shape of a person.

"What brings you here?" the prisoner asked, tilting his head with casual interest despite the blood still dripping from his chin.

The shadow lifted its head, or what might have been a head. When it spoke, the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, like an echo without an original sound.

"Everything is in motion. Only the western territories remain."

The words hung in the air between them, carrying weight that had nothing to do with their simplicity.

The prisoner's smile widened, fresh blood seeping from his split lip.

The shadow remained motionless for several heartbeats. When it finally spoke, there was something different in its tone.

"There's trouble in the western territories, my lord."

Zeroes raised an eyebrow, fresh blood still seeping from his split lip. "Trouble?"

The shadow's form seemed to contract slightly.

"There's a summoner there."

Zeroes smiled vanished, he tested his chains, the metal scraping against stone. 

"So, Selena finally decided to make her move?"

"No, my lord. The Barrier Empress remains beyond our borders." A pause. 

"This one is... new."

Something in that hesitation made Zeroes tilt his head. In the flickering torchlight, his pale eyes caught the flame and held it.

"The new boy?"

The shadow shifted, and for the first time, two pinpricks of purple light appeared where its eyes should be. They pulsed once, twice, like a slow heartbeat.

"I can see through the eyes of others, my lord. Read their thoughts, plant suggestions, guide their actions." 

The purple lights dimmed slightly. "It has served us well with the other summoners."

"And?"

"This one..." The shadow's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "When I tried to look through his companions' eyes while they were near him, I saw nothing. When I attempted to read his thoughts directly..."

The purple lights flickered and died completely.

"It was like looking into a void, my lord. The same void I encounter when I try to breach your mind."

Zeroes went still, very still.

Then his lips began to curve upward. 

A low sound started in his chest, quiet at first, like distant thunder. It built gradually, echoing off the stone walls until the entire chamber rang with his laughter.

"Watch him," Zeroes said when the sound finally died away, his voice soft as silk and twice as dangerous. "Watch him very, very closely."

The shadow bowed once, then melted back into the darkness as if it had never existed at all.

Zeroes sat alone in his chains, that terrible smile still playing across his features, his eyes fixed on something far beyond the prison walls.

"Interesting."

And then he closed his eyes and leaned back.