Elijah settled onto the velvet-cushioned seat beside Cilie, the soft beams of the day sun pouring through the tall stained-glass windows, scattering fragments of colored light across the empty VIP hall. The polished floor gleamed, the stained glass on the tall windows refracted colors like distant jewels. Yet, the absence of people made the air oddly heavy—too quiet for a day like this.
Cilie turned toward him, her expression cool yet amused.
"So…" she said softly, tilting her head, "you finally unlocked your Essence."
Elijah let out a small scoff, crossing his arms. "So you're telling me this now?"
A sly smile curved her lips. "I was about to mention it… but you were too busy being dragged around by your girlfriend."
Elijah's face twitched with mild irritation. "She's not my girlfriend," he said, almost too quickly.
Cilie gave a short, amused exhale but let the subject drop.
A brief pause lingered between them before Elijah's eyes drifted toward the empty room.
"By the way… why is no one here?" he asked.
Cilie shrugged, stretching her slender arms behind her back like a lazy cat awakening from a nap. "I don't know," she said nonchalantly. "Maybe… everyone's busy preparing for the ritual. Or maybe… something's changing."
Her yellow eyes flicked back to him, sharp now.
"But more importantly… are you ready for the ritual?"
Elijah nodded without hesitation. "Yes."
Cilie gave him a long, unreadable look.
"…You really broke free," she murmured as if still struggling to believe it herself. "You shattered the Probability Thread… inside the Final Boundary of all places…"
Elijah frowned, sensing something deeper beneath her words. "Why does that sound… more unbelievable than it already feels?"
Cilie lowered her arms, her tone turning thoughtful—less playful, more distant.
"Because," she said slowly, "people like me… we're born unbound by Probability Threads. It's rare. I never had chains to break." Her gaze sharpened. "But someone like you—someone already bound—breaking free inside the Final Boundary? Where the weight of fate is at its most dense?" She gave a small, dry laugh. "That's something even history never recorded."
Elijah blinked. The full gravity of her words settled in his chest like cold iron, but he kept his face neutral—something he'd learned from Alaric over the year.
"Well," he said with a slight grin, "just looks like one more broken rule, I guess."
Cilie's smile lingered a second longer before fading.
"By the way…" she said suddenly, "You've seen them... the threads that bind people... these chains..."
She paused, her voice barely above a whisper.
"…They're reaching their final state."
Elijah turned sharply. "Final state…?"
Cilie didn't turn to face him. "The cracks are spreading. The Probability Threads that control life… destiny… death… even choice… they're breaking. Slowly… but inevitably."
Elijah's eyes widened, but his mind stayed calm—again, that Alaric influence.
"What happens if the chains fall completely?" he asked, voice level.
Cilie remained silent for a moment before answering, her tone almost too casual for the weight of her words.
"…Then… humanity will finally be free. Unshackled. No longer bound by fate, destiny, or predetermined death. Every moment will be truly their own."
Elijah swallowed, letting that sink in. "That… sounds good."
A small, rare smile touched Cilie's lips.
Before she could reply further, a voice—deep, smooth, and unsettling—cut through the air like a blade.
"But do you understand what happens… when there's no king to govern such a kingdom?"
Both Elijah and Cilie turned sharply.
At the far end of the hall stood Karl, dressed in black and gold, leaning lazily against the marble pillar as if he had been there all along.
His eyes… tired, yet somehow endlessly knowing.
"The world," Karl said, his voice low and almost lyrical, "without a ruler… is like a river without banks. Beautiful for a moment… but it will flood… drown… and devour itself in chaos."
He took a few slow steps forward.
"Elijah… breaking your chains was a miracle. But don't confuse freedom with stability."
Elijah met his gaze without flinching. "Even if a king falls… humanity won't stop," he said with quiet strength.
"They'll rise… create their own paths… with or without a throne above them."
Karl stopped walking. His lips curled into a faint, cryptic smile.
"As expected… from Alaric's disciple."
But then his gaze darkened.
"…But remember this. When the chains fall… it won't just be freedom that's unleashed."
A flicker of tension passed through the air.
"What's sealed… will awaken."
Without waiting for a reply, Karl turned and vanished into the shadows of the corridor—leaving more questions than answers.
A long, unsettling silence remained.
Finally, Cilie exhaled softly. "Typical Karl…"
She turned back toward Elijah.
"Oh, by the way… when I left you during the lake trial… did my butler say something weird?"
Elijah blinked. The memory clicked into place.
"…Yeah," he said slowly. "He mentioned something about your… extraordinary talent."
Cilie chuckled under her breath. "Of course he did."
Elijah hesitated, then finally asked the question lingering in his mind.
"I also heard something from my uncle…" he said carefully. "That you… have something called Silent Tell. And you survived consuming a 9-Tier Elixir… How? How did you even endure that much corruption…?"
Cilie didn't answer right away.
Instead, she stood and walked slowly toward the far edge of the VIP room, her footsteps light yet steady. She stopped in front of the massive stained-glass window, letting her fingertips rest gently against the cool glass as she gazed down at the stadium below.
The crowd was beginning to gather, their excitement rising like a distant hum. In the distance, the flags of Constantine High fluttered proudly in the breeze. Yet Elijah could sense it—her mind wasn't truly on the tournament.
A sudden burst of sunlight streamed in from behind her, casting her silhouette in soft, golden light.
Her blue hair flowed like rivers of light.
Her yellow eyes, now glowing faintly, caught the beams at just the right angle—giving her the appearance of something not quite human. Something… divine.
Elijah froze. For a brief second, she looked like an angel standing at the crossroads of dawn and fate.
Without turning, Cilie spoke—her voice now carrying the kind of stillness that came after a storm.
"If I had to explain it simply… I was blessed by the Four God Kings," she said. "Their blood runs through me."
Elijah blinked.
"God Kings…?" he echoed, the weight of her words sinking into him like cold water.
The term sounded distant and heavy, like something pulled from the deepest pages of myth. His mind flooded with questions: Who were they? How could their bloodline even exist in her? What does that mean for everything we've known about human limits?
But as the questions stirred, something inside him… settled.
He watched her standing there, framed by the sunlight, distant yet peaceful. For a brief second, he understood something without needing it spelled out:
This… wasn't the time to ask.
The day was already tense. The ritual was approaching. The air was heavy with unspoken fears about chains, fate, and sealed things ready to awaken. And here she was… carrying something inside her that belonged to legends.
Elijah closed his mouth before the next question could escape.
Instead, he offered a small, wordless nod.
Not because he wasn't curious.
Not because he wasn't afraid of the answer.
But because… deep inside… he knew:
Some truths won't fit into you until you're ready to carry them.
And right now…
He wasn't.
So…
He waited.
And silently… the two of them stood together—on the edge of a day that would soon change everything.