Sickening thuds in my head are what greet me when I regain consciousness, pounding away behind my eyes like a hammer to a nail. I don't even want to open my eyes; my eyelids are dyed red by shining light, and I don't want to be sick again if the light sets my senses off. But that merely begs the question of where I am, and what's become of me since I passed out.

   Idofront's usual slight chill seems even colder now, and I shudder. The slight movement ignites new and odd pains, and I struggle to not open my eyes. Something ice-cold presses against my back, my shoulders ignite with the pain I'd feel if I were holding my arms above my head for far too long, my right bicep burns, and each breath I take flares a deep pain in my lower stomach. There's pains in other places, ones I didn't think that could or should hurt but sicken me that they do. I grit my teeth against a groan. "A-Addy, it hurts..." Then when I notice something, or rather a lack of it.

   I can't feel Aedia at all.

   I reach for my chest to grab where my whistle would be resting, but I'm met with resistance. Something hard digs into my wrists, holding them tight as the slight clinking of metal rings out. My blood runs cold, and I force my eyes open against the painful light, only to be flooded with panic. I'm in a small, square room, a single uncovered bulb hanging from the ceiling. To my horror, I'm sitting against the back wall, more pinned to it as my wrists are shackled by chains to a metal loop bolted to the wall above my head.

   The reason for the stronger chill becomes evident as I look at my right arm. Even without my glasses, I can see that my bicep has been wrapped in a bandage. Not only is Aedia gone, but so is my shirt, allowing me to see the numerous puncture wounds across my arms and shoulders—ones only needles can make. Some have been bandaged, others have been left to leak small trails of dried blood. The sight makes my heart pound and my breaths hitch, the pain in my stomach flaring more severely. I bite my tongue as I look down, and another bandage has been wrapped around my middle. What the hell has he done to me, and why does it hurt so much?

   I naturally try to struggle, pulling against my bindings with a futile hope that they somehow aren't real, that none of this is. Situations like these always seem confined to fiction, where the hero or some other important character is captured but manages to escape due to their wits or using the environment in their favor. But where is my rusty, ready to break chain? Where is my convenient needle or hairpin that could be used as a lockpick?

   My already-cloudy vision fogs even more as tears gather at the corners of my eyes—utter terror. There are no items I can use to escape, and the room's construction is sound and without fault. Pain like this can't be an illusion, and neither were those needles that pierced me. This is real, and I'm at the center of it.

   "M-Melva... Melva!" I scream as loud as my raw throat allows. "Sciro, are you out there? S-somebody help me! Help!" I can't ever recall screaming so loudly for help, even when I still delved. There had always been someone within earshot to overhear the danger and come assist or save me. Now only my echoing cries respond to me, the clattering of the chains ringing out like mocking laughter while I continue to struggle and thrash. Still, the chains hold secure, and there's nothing for me to grab.

   What little strength I have soon fades, and I slump in my chains, neck protesting as I hang my head. I swallow hard, thirst gripping my burning throat. It has to have been a day since I fell unconscious, or at least quite a few hours. Either way, surely Melva's looking for me or at least suspicious? I can't believe I'm praying at all, but I can't help but utter one, begging for somebody to come and find me.

   Sudden footfalls in the outside hall make my head snap up, brief confusion and hope filling me. It then slowly drains away as I realize the echoing steps are far too loud and confident to be from someone conducting a rescue operation. They soon stop in front of the door. A lock clicks open before the door does as well, and a shadow looms in.

   The once refined-looking black attire of the Sovereign of Dawn now seems inky and enveloping, the light cast from his mask highlighting just how inhuman the person beneath it is. I flatten myself against the wall, pulling my knees up to act as a barrier between us. Of course he ignores my response and approaches, leaning over me once he's close enough.

   "Exhaustion takes a brutal toll, doesn't it, young Sovereign?" He shakes his head. "I wish I could have kept your more comfortable accommodations, but I refuse to risk you running away."

   I want to say so much to him along with nothing at all, but it all tangles together in my throat. All I can make myself get out is, "H-how long have I been unconscious for?"

   "About a day now? It was much longer than I expected, though it made some of my work easier." He gestures to my bandaged stomach. "While you were unconscious, I couldn't help but take a few samples. Well, more than a few, but it was still restraint on my part. Of course blood and hair follicle samples are a given, but I took the liberty of gathering whatever else I could. Muscle fibers, a skin graft or two, spinal fluid, genetic material, nerve scrapings from your missing tooth—"

   "Y-you took my genetic what?" Absolute disgust gouges into me.

   "Everything on the surface that makes you who you are and what you can create on a scientific level." Bondrewd grandly spreads his arms. "Organ, bone, and brain samples are part of this as well, but those are obviously more grievous to extract. It's already invasive enough that I took those muscle fiber samples from your rectus abdominis—there is no need to worry, I didn't take enough so your organs could no longer be held in place—so I will hold off on those surgeries for now."

   "No, I can't let you do any of that! Wh-why do you want to do all of this to me?" I exclaim, trying to search for any way out of this.
  
   Bondrewd takes a step back, folding his hands behind him. "As I told you before, you defied death because of a plea to the Abyss. One of my Umbra Hands overheard your conversation with Iann, and that was what you said, yes? You had died from shock and went at least half an hour without your brain receiving any oxygen, yet you still were brought back with your mind intact. You have received a blessing of the Abyss, and I must know if it has altered you and if it can be replicated. I can't learn about your condition if I allow you to leave, can I?" He says it like it's obvious, that the answer is so simple!
  
   "Don't I get a say in this?" I protest desperately. "You wanted me to join you of my own free will so badly, but now you're acting like I'm not even a person! What if I don't want any of this to happen? I want to go home, not work here with you, a-and I don't want to be some kind of experiment to you!"

   "Now that's quite the selfish thought, Len," Bondrewd says gravely. "Did the first explorers of Norteva want to risk their lives in the snow? Of course not, but they did so because everyone with them would have died without a place to shelter. Here we find ourselves at a similar junction. Nobody wants to give themselves up to an unknown fate, but many do for the sake of the future. The Abyss is harsh and unyielding, and it will not adapt to us. It is up to us to adapt to it and prepare for what lies ahead."

   "So you're going to kill me for this? C-cut my head and brain open, harvest my organs, all for a theory that might not even be true?"

   "Again, quite a selfish thought, because I don't wish to kill you and don't intend on doing so." He leans in closer, blocking the light from above and holding his masked face mere inches from mine. "What if your condition no longer required me to develop my Cartridges? I've been developing them to shoulder the Strains of Ascent, but if death is avoidable, then why push the curse onto another living being? Those within Cartridges only live a few days, so sparing them while you help me is more favorable, yes? It would spare the lives of more children like Rayne, and they can continue adoring the allure of the Abyss along with the White Whistles who helped pave their beautiful path to the dawn."

   I shake my head, begging against the welling shame and guilt my protesting brings me. "You can't admire a system that's so corrupt! The Delvers' Guild can't allow this... They just can't! It's imprisonment and murder. That's never legal anywhere, even back home!"
  
   "That may be true, but it's not as though the laws are always obeyed, especially if it prevents progress. It's a bold and noble claim to believe the guild will want to give up such a valuable asset such as me. However, in a world where children join their older peers in prayer and exploration of a man-eating netherworld, would the guild destroy a hero? We are the beacons of the Abyss, Lord of Knowledge. Without us, all hope is lost. Whether the guild is aware or not, it changes nothing."

   I feel so small then, like an insect with a heavy boot hanging over me. "But... I-I don't want to do this still. I want to go back to Orth, try to repair my life. I want to live!"

   "Can you live with the guilt?"

   I may as well have been stabbed instead of being asked that question, because the feeling is the same. The deaths of Rayne and so many other children would sit upon me if I tried to leave, dozens in place of the few I want to return to. I would be just as bad as Bondrewd. "Then..." I look at him where his eyes would be as tears leak from my own. "O-okay, I'll do it. I'll work alongside you and give myself to you without a fight. A-all I want in return is to have my whistle back and for you to leave Melva, Iann, and Sciro out of this!"

   "My, have you grown an attachment to them? While that is a wonderful sentiment, I cannot guarantee your condition."

   My heart drops into my stomach.

   "I will return your whistle to you, but I have other plans for your mentor. She has already been asking about you, and she's too volatile to be a Praying Hand, so an Umbra Hand will have to do. Iann's curiosity has surpassed his usefulness, so a Cartridge or a position as an Umbra Hand awaits him, and Scirorocco... Well, Enri has separated him from previous attachments. You will simply have made your Last Dive in his mind."

   "You're sick... Y-you're a sick bastard!" I cry. "I can't believe I trusted you! You're no better than the creatures of the Abyss. No, at least they don't understand morality instead of discarding it like you do, you fucking monster!"

   I tense as Bondrewd goes silent, expecting him to have finally blown a fuse or at least strike me or something similar. Instead, his head bows to the floor for a few moments before it slowly raises. "If this is the end of our friendship, then I will have to mourn it, even if I wish it could have continued..."

   I'm shocked at his mournful tone. Don't tell me he actually considered our relationship as a friendship because... I'll never admit it aloud now, but I would have done so as well. It makes my chest ache, like I've been wounded there as well.

   "She will indeed remain as Melva to me, as will you be Len, and Iann will stay Iann. Even if the names of others are changed, the first name they tell me will forever live on in my memory. Every sacrifice is never in vain, efforts will never go unwasted." Bondrewd turns and starts to leave the room. "I will send someone to give you something to eat. Farewell, Lord of Knowledge." He closes and locks the door, and I'm left alone. My head falls to my chest, and so do my tears, shoulders shaking as I quietly cry.

   I don't know how long I sit there for, staring at the floor in front of me as I dread whatever will come through that door next. A new pain soon joins the others, accompanied by low growls as it jabs into my stomach. I'd thrown up everything inside me before I passed out, and combine that with not eating anything for nearly two days, saying I'm hungry is an understatement. I'm fully prepared for some unknown Umbra Hand to bring me food, but who actually does is arguably worse.

   Enri enters the room, carrying a tray. To know she's in on this too nearly makes me lose my appetite, but the tantalizing scent of broth fills the room, making my stomach loudy protest its emptiness.

   "I guess I came at the right time then since you sound hungry," she says, and I look away, angered and ashamed. "Still trying to cling to that pride you always have, huh? There's really no point since you're in the furthest position from being that monolith you've tried to parade yourself around as."

   While I'm terrified around Bondrewd, I feel nothing but ire for Enri, and I'm more than willing to express it. "You've been lying to Sciro..." I hiss. "And you're going to continue lying to him because Bondrewd says so, aren't you?" The woman's quiet for a moment before she crouches in front of me.

   "Here." She holds out the bowl, filled with what I can only assume is broth mixed with ground ration bars. "Consider yourself lucky. It would've made sense to just mash it up with water, but Lord Dawn insisted on bone broth. I guess he's really set his sights on you for his next project." I don't make any moves towards it, and Enri's hand lowers a little. "If you think it's poisoned, then you're actually stupid. Lord Dawn wouldn't try anything like that on a new project until he learns it better. After all, you're the only instance so far."

   As much as that description disgusts me, it makes sense. And if there's some chance of me being rescued, then I need to keep my strength up. Reluctant, I lean forwards, and Enri takes it as an indication to hold the bowl to my lips and tilt it so I can drink. After having bland ration bars for so long, the small flash of flavor makes my mouth ache. It takes all I have to not greedily drink the rest of the broth, drinking slowly since my still-uneasy stomach protests the food. Once the bowl is empty, Enri holds out the cup, filled with water.

   "If you need to relieve yourself, I'll have Kanja bring you a leash since there's a toilet close by outside," Enri remarks, grabbing hold of the chain tethering my hands together. I give her a nasty glare, but she doesn't react. "Fine, piss yourself then. I don't care, I was just told to feed you."

   "And lie to Sciro, Iann too, surely." I side-eye her. This time, my remark warrants a response from her.

   "I'm lying, but it's for his own good." Her fists clench. "Everything I've done for him has been for his own good, even beyond what Lord Dawn has done for him."

   "Even if he wants to go to the surface? It's what he wants and needs, not to stay here and stagnate mentally. He didn't even know what a sandwich was until Melva told him!" Her hand then lashes out, grabbing me by the hair. I can't say this doesn't startle me, and I yelp and struggle. She forces me to look at her.

   "Don't you dare refer to him that way," she growls. "He's far from stupid, even if you're ignorant enough to think otherwise because of how he acts. I've known him for longer than you have, even before Idofront, so you have no right to say what you think is best for him. Going back to the surface for the both of us is a disaster waiting to happen!"

   I frown in confusion; that doesn't sound right at all. "Sciro said he was the sole survivor of a delving massacre..."

   "That's what he was told, and it's what he'll forever know. The way things were before we came here would kill him to know, so that's why we stay quiet about it." Her voice abruptly turns somber, though her grip on my hair only tightens. I grit my teeth against the pain. "I wasn't lucky enough to have lost my memory like he did, but I unfortunately was lucky enough to see the errors in my methods when Lord Dawn extended his hand to us. I took his hand, but Sciro... He took it eventually, even though he's lost most of what made him, well, him. The name change made things easier, since this man is Scirorocco, not..." She trails off.

   "S-so you think he wouldn't want to know? You're a hypocrite! You don't deserve control over him either, you have no—" There's a thunk before I'm seeing stars, Enri having slammed my head against the wall.

   "Lying was needed! I've heard you at night, those nightmares that always cling to you because of damn rotten memories. You think Sciro wants to have the same thing as you?" I'm still stunned, and she yanks my head again so my ear is close to her mouth. "People like you disgust me, trying to always make the truth come out no matter what."

   I manage to scrape words together, forcing them out through gritted teeth as my right temple throbs. "Lies, I-I made sure those children Sciro watched over didn't learn the truth of things... I had every chance to tell them of the Abyss' dangers when I drew the creatures I've seen for them, but I didn't! I didn't want to see their hearts break already..."

   "So you think adults can't be allowed the same luxury?" Her voice is hollow. "Ignorance really is bliss, and I'd happily kill for a chance to be ignorant again." I fully expect for her to bash my head again, but instead she releases me and starts checking my bandages. "I wish I could leave this and hope they become infected, but it's what Lord Dawn wants."

   She pulls the bandages on my stomach away, revealing a long slice across the lower section of my abs that has been stitched up. The skin around the stitches is red and pulled tight with inflammation. She prods at it, and I cry out in pain. Without hesitation, she shoves her arm against my throat, pinning it to the wall and choking my sounds of discomfort.

   "Quit crying. I can't believe you're a Black Whistle, let alone a White Whistle if you react this way to a little pain." I only gag in response, but I don't resist any longer, just wanting this to be over so she can leave. She cleans the puncture wounds the needles caused along with replacing the bandage on my arm, the wound it covers being one I don't want to see. "I'm going to have to ask for more penicillin for that incision... Dammit! That infected sting should've been an indicator you were going to be a problem." She releases me and stands up, leaving me to cough and choke as I properly regain my breath. "I'll be back in a few minutes, don't go anywhere." I can hear the smirk in her tone and glare at her, continuing to do so as she leaves the room.

   However, as the door closes behind her, something slides into the gap. There's a clunk from the door closing, but the lock doesn't click. It doesn't seem to stop Enri from hurriedly walking away, likely not paying attention. I glance at the object, being a thin, round object that's light blue in color. I squint as much as I can, trying to make out more details. A glimpse of bronze makes my eyes widen. Inkwell?

   The door slowly opens, and a pair of confused blue eyes looks into the room—Iann. "Mr. Len? Is that you?" He steps inside, closing the door behind him before he hurries to my side. "I was exploring and saw Aunt Enri. I decided to follow her, and she came in here, but you're here too? What's going on? Ms. Melva's been looking for you all day, and you're chained up here..."

   My mind races, but I know I need to make my words count right now. "I-I want to tell you what's going on, but there's not much time. Tell Ms. Melva and Uncle Sciro that I'm here, okay? Make sure nobody sees you when you leave, and Ms. Melva knowing where I am matters more than Uncle Sciro."

   "Why, though? Did you do something bad? You look hurt too!" He's looking down at the inflamed stitches on my stomach.

   "I was hurt, but your 'Uncle Bon' did it. He caught me after I saw something he did, and he doesn't like what I saw." Iann goes quiet, looking confused and disbelieving. A sudden surge of fear hits me that I'd said too much, and he instead might go to Bondrewd to ask what I'm talking about. "Please trust me, Iann! Just go tell Ms. Melva. I..." I swallow hard, choking down my pride as I look at Iann with desperation. "I-I'm afraid of what's going to happen to me if I stay here any longer. I know it sounds weird for adults to be scared of things, but we can be, and you know there's things to be scared of in this world! Your Uncle Bon... I-I've realized he's one of those things."

   Iann continues to stare at me, thinking, and I pleadingly return his gaze. More time is lost with every second that passes, and my fear starts to swell back into terror. I soon can't take the silence and open my mouth to speak again, but Iann interrupts me.

   "Okay, I'll go tell her. I'm really confused, but I trust you, Mr. Len." His brow furrows in determination, and his lips purse. "You're not a bad person, an' I'll believe that unless I see something else that proves me wrong. I'll be really quiet and make sure nobody sees me!" Before I can say anything else, he's rushing for the door and leaving. Thankfully he closes the door, and just like that, I'm alone again.

   A shuddering breath leaves me, my face twisting into a grimace. I can't believe my fate lies in the hands of a child, but I know not to underestimate him. The only problem is no matter how smart he is, children can only do so much when an adult stands in their way, and words aren't always enough.

   Enri returns a minute or two later, and I'm relieved Iann had left when he did. "Did you miss me?" she says, holding up a thin box. She removes a familiar-looking needle from inside it. "Now, if you're a good boy and take the shot without issue, I'll give you this too." My eyes widen as she pulls a white whistle from her pocket and dangles it by the leather cord.

   "Addy!" I gasp before I can stop myself, and Enri pulls the whistle up into her hand.

   "No struggling, okay?" I glare at her for a moment but relent. I swear she takes her time swabbing a spot where she can inject it into a muscle, and I flinch to spite myself.

   "There, you did what you had to. N-now can you just give me my whistle and leave?"

   Enri shakes her head. "I'm sure you wish I could. Unfortunately for you, Lord Dawn requested I take a few more blood samples while I'm here." She pulls a new set of needles from the thin box, and dread fills me. No, nothing else sharp... Not again, please! "Now don't move, or else I'll have to do this more than once," she says, swabbing a new spot on my arm. She grabs my arm before I can do anything, and I truly want to pull away. As the needle approaches, I squeeze my eyes shut, stifling a plea.

   Melva, please, help me!