THUD. THUD. THUD.
The footsteps sounded closer and closer.
Arthur felt each one like a hammer blow to his chest. The sound of boots on the factory floor echoed down the hallway, getting closer, closer, louder and louder.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
There was no time to think.
Arthur moved before his brain had finished processing the decision.
He shot out from behind the machine like a bullet. The core burned in his chest, energy flowing to his legs, to his right arm, concentrating in his fist.
The guard appeared right in front of him.
"What…?"
Arthur didn't let him finish. His fist sank into the man's abdomen with force.
"GAH—"
The guard doubled over like a sheet of paper. The air was knocked out of his lungs in a single blow, a muffled, pathetic sound. His eyes, visible through the holes in the mask, widened in disbelief.
But he didn't fall.
His hand, moving with trained reflexes, fumbled at his belt for the radio.
No. No. No.
Arthur raised his fist again, but Kiana was already there.
Her knee slammed into the guard's face. The man spun around, his mask flying off, and this time, yes, this time he collapsed like a sack of potatoes.
Silence settled over the factory once more.
Arthur stared at the unconscious body, panting. His fist trembled slightly from the adrenaline.
"Is he… is he dead?" whispered Emilia, emerging from the shadows with her eyes wider than ever.
"No. Just unconscious. We Kaslana know just how much force to use so as not to kill."
"Since when?" Arthur asked, unable to stop the question from slipping out.
Kiana shrugged.
"Always. Killing by accident is for newbies."
"…"
"Ha ha ha…"
Before he could answer, Emilia beat him to it.
"What do we do with him?" Emilia pointed at the body.
"Tie his hands with something. Quickly."
Emilia nodded and began searching among the nearby machines; a thick, rusty but sturdy cable appeared in her hands in a matter of seconds. She knelt beside the unconscious guard and began tying his wrists.
"We have to leave now," Arthur said, glancing toward the hallway where the other guard could return at any moment. The one with the radio was still somewhere in the factory, coordinating the search.
"I refuse," Kiana said.
Arthur turned toward her. The white-haired girl had her fists clenched and her gaze fixed on the guard's body.
"These definitely look like bad people," Kiana continued. "This is something the Kaslanas cannot allow."
She looked up, and her blue eyes locked onto Arthur's with an intensity that took his breath away.
"I, Kiana Kaslana, will not let them get away with this."
Silence fell between them. Emilia stopped tying up the guard and looked at Kiana with a complex expression.
"No," Arthur snapped, shaking his head. "This is too dangerous. These people are dangerous. We have to leave immediately."
"But there might be people in danger," Kiana insisted, taking a step toward him. "And we can help them. That's what a Kaslana would do."
"Kiana, this is very dangerous," Arthur raised his hands, trying to reason with her. "We can call the police when we're in a city, but we have to get out of here. You could get hurt. Emilia could get hurt."
"But—"
And just then, the other guard appeared.
He stepped out of the darkness of the hallway with his gun raised, pointing directly at them. His smooth white mask reflected the dim light of the factory, and his voice, when he spoke, was as cold as ice.
"Freeze," he said. "Don't move."
...!
Shit.
The word echoed in Arthur's mind with the force of a death sentence. The guard was less than thirty feet away, his weapon raised and aimed directly at them. That strange weapon was emitting Honkai energy that the core could clearly detect.
Kiana tensed beside him. Arthur could feel her urge to lunge at the masked man. But even she knew a bullet was faster than any fist.
Emilia, behind them, stood completely still. She wasn't even breathing heavily. But Arthur could imagine her expression: those sad eyes, wide with fear, seeing how it could all end right here.
"Well, well," said the guard, his voice sounding almost amused beneath the mask. "Little mice playing where they shouldn't."
His gun moved slightly, aiming at each of them in turn.
"HAHAHA, to think that a bunch of brats managed to knock Bob out. When he wakes up and I tell him, I'm definitely going to laugh in his face."
Think, Arthur ordered himself. Think, damn it.
The core pulsed in his chest, telling him it was there. That he had power. That he could do something. But would he be faster than a bullet?
Yes.
The word popped into his mind.
He would definitely be faster than a bullet.
But he had never tested his limits. He had never faced someone with a gun pointed directly at him.
And this situation was definitely not the time to experiment.
What could he do? Charge? Try to disarm him?
He could.
That word again.
He could disarm him before he pulled the trigger. He could move so fast he wouldn't even see it coming. He could…
But if he failed…
Kiana. Emilia.
They could get hurt. Or worse.
Arthur felt cold sweat trickling down his back. The guard kept laughing, relishing the moment, completely oblivious to the real danger in front of him.
"Relax," said the masked man, lowering the gun slightly. "I'm not going to kill you. The boss wants live test subjects. Though I suppose that would be worse?"
Kiana stepped forward, fists clenched.
"If you touch her..."
"What? What are you going to do, little girl?"
Arthur saw Kiana trembling. With pent-up rage.
And then he understood.
Kiana wasn't going to stand still. She was going to lunge.
Arthur saw it in the tension of her muscles, in the way her feet shifted slightly on the metal floor. She was going to do it. She was going to attack.
No. I can't risk her acting.
"Stop!" he shouted without thinking.
The word echoed through the hallway like a gunshot. Kiana stopped mid-movement, startled. The guard did too, taken aback by the sudden change.
Arthur stepped forward.
He positioned himself in front of Kiana and Emilia, his small body coming between them and the gun.
"I'll make you a deal," he said. "Don't lay a finger on them, and you take me."
The guard blinked behind his mask.
"What?"
"I promise you that if you try anything, it definitely won't end well for you," Arthur continued, without looking away. "So think: which do you prefer? Taking one of us, or taking none?"
The silence was absolute.
Kiana opened her mouth to protest, but Emilia grabbed her arm, preventing her from moving.
The guard stood still for a moment. Then, laughter began to emerge from behind the mask.
"HAHAHAHA," he laughed, but it wasn't a cheerful laugh. It was a laugh of disbelief, of bewilderment. "Does a brat like you really think he can negotiate with me? And you have the nerve to think you can make me..."
He stopped.
His eyes—the only part visible beneath the mask—met Arthur's.
And what he saw there paralyzed him.
Arthur's eyes were shining. They shone with determination. With the absolute certainty that he was going to keep his word.
Why?, the guard thought. Why does a child evoke this feeling in me?
There was something in those words. Something in that gaze. Something whispering in his ear, sweet as poison, that he had to accept. That, if he didn't accept, something bad was going to happen.
He didn't understand why.
But his instinct—the one that had kept him alive in shitty situations for years—told him one thing:
Take the deal.
"Bratty kid…" the guard muttered, his voice trembling. "You're giving me the creeps."
What to do?
"Tch."
The guard seemed to regain some composure. He straightened his back, tightened his grip on the gun, and with a sudden movement aimed it directly at Kiana and Emilia.
"You two," he ordered. "Get away from him. Now."
"WHAT?!" Kiana's scream echoed throughout the hallway. "I'm definitely not leaving!"
She took a step forward, fists clenched, eyes blazing. She was going to lunge. She was going to attack. She was going to...
"KIANA!" Arthur's shout stopped her abruptly.
Kiana froze, halfway there, staring at him with eyes wide open.
Arthur took a deep breath. He forced his voice to be calm.
"Listen to what I'm saying," he said, his words deliberate. "I'm definitely coming back. I'm just stepping away for a little while."
"But..." Kiana's voice broke.
"When have I ever lied to you?" Arthur smiled faintly. "Besides, didn't I tell you I'd never leave you?"
Silence settled between them.
Kiana looked at him.
And then, slowly, she nodded.
"I'll wait for you," she said, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. "But if you're late, I'll come looking for you. And you'll hear from me."
Arthur smiled a little more.
"I know."
Emilia, silently, took Kiana's hand and began to back away. Step by step. Moving away.
The two girls vanished into the darkness of the hallway, and Arthur was left alone with the guard and the echo of his own heartbeat.
"You, now follow me and put these on," said the guard, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt and tossing them to him.
Arthur caught them in midair. They were metal, cold, heavy. He looked at them for a moment, feeling the weight in his hands.
"This…"
"Don't make me any more nervous than I already am, brat," the guard interrupted, his voice trembling slightly. "Just put them on."
Arthur looked at him. The man was nervous. Scared, even. Despite the gun, despite being the one who was supposedly in control.
He's afraid of me, Arthur thought. This guy is afraid of me.
Arthur put on the handcuffs. The metal snapped shut around his wrists with a sharp click. They weren't too tight, but they restricted his movements.
"Now get in front of me and walk," the guard ordered, pointing the gun toward the interior of the factory.
Arthur obeyed. He began to walk, feeling the guard's footsteps behind him, the barrel of the gun likely pointed at his back.
They walked for a couple of minutes through the factory until they reached an elevator. A red light was flashing on the control panel.
"Get in," the guard ordered.
Arthur stepped inside. The doors closed with a thud, and the elevator began to descend. It was a long, deep descent, as if they were plunging into the bowels of the earth.
How long has it been? Arthur wondered. A minute? Two? This is deeper than it looks.
"Hey," he said, breaking the silence. "What kind of place is this?"
Silence.
"Why are you in this factory?" he pressed. "Is it some kind of super lab?"
Nothing.
"What are you doing here?"
"Brat," the guard growled. "Shut the hell up already."
Arthur fell silent.
Well, he thought. Looks like I won't be able to get any information out of him.
The elevator stopped with a metallic clang. The doors opened slowly, revealing a hallway completely different from the one upstairs.
White walls. Fluorescent lights. Clean metal floors. Doors with access panels. People in special suits, white lab coats, surgical masks, moving with purpose.
People who, upon seeing him, stopped.
All eyes were fixed on him. As if he were some kind of freak.
"What's a kid doing here?" someone said. "And still without erosion?"
"A kid?"
"What the hell?"
"Why did they bring him here?"
"Wasn't there a room specifically for them?" another asked.
Whispers swirled around him, confused, alarmed.
"Jhon," a voice cut through the murmur, authoritative. "Why did you bring this child here? You know there's a procedure for these things. Even if he's a child, you have to follow the rules."
Guard John shifted uncomfortably.
"That's exactly why I brought him here," he said. "This child is different."
"Even so..."
"What do you mean by different?"
The voice came out of nowhere. Or rather, from the shadows of the hallway, from where a figure slowly emerged.
It was a man in a specialized suit, more elaborate than the others'. Something different.
The man approached, observing Arthur with an almost scientific curiosity. As if he were a specimen.
"Though I admit," he said, "this is the first time I've seen a child without Honkai erosion. But it's not the first case."
He leaned in slightly, bringing his face close to Arthur's. His eyes, behind protective goggles, scrutinized every inch of his skin.
"You don't have a single mark," he murmured. "Not a single symptom. You've been exposed to Honkai directly, and yet…"
He straightened his back.
"Interesting. Very interesting."
Arthur said nothing.
"Take him to the observation room," the man ordered. "And prepare the tests. I want to know what makes this boy so... special."