The more she said it, the colder she felt, even though the brazier beside her crackled warmly.
Gates.
Fifth City was obsessed with gates. Metal gates that locked people in, spiritual gates that only certain blood could trigger, secret doors in mountains and ruins that only special beasts could sense.
Cyrus had told her just enough for her to picture it. The mountain full of cages. The rooms where rare beasts were sorted like goods. The missions where he had led his "brothers" to hunt and drag back living treasures.
No wonder they could not let him go.
It was not about affection, or even control. It was about using his blood like a key.
"Bubu," Isabella said quietly. "Is there anything about Fifth City in that file?"
{Scanning.}
A brief pause.
