The Brotherhood Of The Damned.

The dining hall was grand and opulent, but its beauty was lost on me. My focus was locked on the man sitting across the table, the ancient predator who carried himself like royalty. Williams Conrad was a study in controlled menace: his movements deliberate, his expressions unreadable, his crimson eyes piercing.

"Such potential," Conrad began, his voice smooth as silk. "The way you wield Flux, Kyon, is extraordinary. I've seen few with such control at your age. It's... impressive."

A compliment, delivered with just the right amount of sincerity to disarm me. But I knew better. Compliments from men like him were never free.

"Thank you," I replied, keeping my tone even. "I've had good teachers."

Conrad's smile widened, but there was something predatory in it. "Indeed. And yet, raw talent like yours can't simply be taught. It's innate. A gift."

His words carried weight, each one calibrated to chip away at my defenses. I couldn't let him see how uneasy I felt, couldn't let him glimpse the storm raging inside me.

"Hard work has its place too," I said, deflecting.

"Of course," Conrad agreed, his tone indulgent. "But tell me, Kyon, where does such determination come from? I understand you're not originally from Sharman."

The shift in topic was subtle but deliberate. My chest tightened.

"No," I said carefully. "I grew up in Afrika."

"Afrika," he repeated, as though savoring the word. "A land of untamed beauty and hardship. It must have been... formative. Your family must have played a significant role in shaping who you are."

I felt his gaze sharpen, even as his tone remained conversational. This was no casual interest; he was probing, testing the waters.

"My parents passed when I was young," I said, my voice steady. "My aunt raised me. She did what she could to make sure I had a chance."

Conrad leaned forward slightly, the faint glint of fangs visible as he smiled. "Auntie Amina, isn't it? Such a strong, selfless woman. A cornerstone in your life, I imagine."

The mention of her name was a blow, though I didn't let it show. Varvaya had warned me he'd dig into my past, use my connections to unsettle me. But hearing her name from his lips was like a violation, a reminder of how deeply his influence could reach.

"Yes," I said after a pause, my tone clipped. "She's an incredible woman."

"And still in Afrika, I assume?" he pressed, his crimson eyes watching me intently.

I hesitated, my mind running calculations. Each answer I gave was a step closer to giving him what he wanted, but refusing to answer might be worse.

"She's where she needs to be," I said finally, keeping it vague.

Conrad chuckled softly, a sound that felt more like a threat than amusement. "A wise response. You're careful, Kyon. That will serve you well in our world."

He let the silence hang for a moment before his smile turned almost... curious. "But surely you don't walk through life alone. A young man like you must have someone he holds dear. Someone who keeps him grounded."

My pulse quickened. I didn't answer immediately, but my gaze flicked to Sia—just for a moment. It was a mistake, and Conrad pounced on it like a predator sensing blood.

"Ah," he murmured, his eyes shifting briefly to Sia before returning to me. "How fascinating."

I clenched my fists under the table, keeping my expression neutral. "I don't know what you're implying."

"Implying?" Conrad's smile widened. "I'm merely observing. A bond like that can be a source of strength—or a vulnerability."

His words were like knives, cutting deeper with each syllable. He was toying with me, circling like a shark, searching for a crack in my armor.

"You seem awfully interested in my personal life," I said, forcing a note of humor into my voice. "Is this your idea of getting to know me?"

Conrad chuckled again, a low, rich sound. "Forgive me. I'm simply intrigued by you, Kyon. You've done so much in such a short time. Surviving Afrika, adapting to Sharman, excelling with the Argent Sword..."

I stiffened, though I tried to mask it.

"Oh yes," he continued, his tone conversational. "Your training hasn't gone unnoticed. It's rare for someone so new to our world to show such... promise. And with Flux, no less. A dangerous power, wouldn't you agree?"

"Any power is dangerous in the wrong hands," I said cautiously.

"True," he conceded. "But Flux is different. It has a will of its own, doesn't it? A tendency to... consume those who wield it."

I met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I haven't let it consume me yet."

"Yet," Conrad echoed, his smile turning almost pitying. "But the question remains—how long can you keep it at bay? How long before it demands more from you than you're willing to give?"

His words struck a chord I didn't want to acknowledge. The Flux was a constant presence, a power I could barely control on my best days. But admitting that to Conrad would be a mistake.

"I'll manage," I said, keeping my tone firm.

Conrad's eyes gleamed with amusement, as if he could see through my bravado. "I admire your resolve, Kyon. Truly. But resolve can only take you so far. There will come a moment when you must decide who you truly are—and what you're willing to sacrifice to survive."

The air in the room felt heavier, his words sinking into my mind like weights.

"Speaking of sacrifice," he said smoothly, changing the subject, "tell me about your training. The Argent Sword is a prestigious order, is it not? How have you found their methods?"

"They're thorough," I said cautiously. "Demanding."

"As they should be," Conrad said, his tone approving. "But I wonder... do they truly understand you? Or are you just another weapon to them, a tool they hope to wield for their own ends?"

His question lingered, unspoken doubts I'd tried to bury clawing their way to the surface.

"They've helped me," I said firmly, as much to convince myself as him.

"Of course," Conrad said, his voice soothing. "But help always comes at a price, doesn't it?"

He leaned back, his expression one of casual interest, but I wasn't fooled. Every word, every gesture was calculated, a move in a game I barely understood.

"Tell me, Kyon," he said softly, his voice almost hypnotic. "Have you ever wondered what you might become if you stopped holding back? If you embraced who you truly are?"

My throat tightened, the weight of his question pressing down on me.

"I know who I am," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

"Do you?" Conrad's smile was almost kind, but his eyes betrayed him. They were hungry, calculating. "Or are you still searching, hoping someone will show you the way?"

I didn't answer, my silence stretching between us like a drawn blade.

Conrad's gaze lingered on me, his expression unreadable. "You're fascinating, Kyon," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Truly fascinating."

The words hung in the air, a challenge I couldn't ignore.