Nicholas sat at the head of a long, blackwood table, his fingers steepled as he studied the glowing miniature of a landscape spread before them, a perfect replica of a stretch of the Underworld.
"So," he said quietly, his voice cool but edged, "that's Arthur's hideout. Here. In my domain?"
K sat at his right, arms folded, his expression calm but watchful. "No doubt," he confirmed, his dark eyes fixed on the shimmering model.
At the far end of the table, Harua lazily flicked his fingers, summoning a faint screen of magic above the map, a live projection of the site. Black stone buildings half-collapsed, shadows writhing faintly along the ground as if unsettled by Arthur's lingering influence.
"We're already renovating," Harua added dryly. "This could serve well as quarters for some of my troops. His men have also been captured. Pathetic, really."
Jo, leaning against a column with his arms crossed, scoffed softly. "It would've been nice if we had gotten to interrogate Arthur first," he muttered, the faintest edge of a sneer curling his lip. "But no, the Legacies got to him first. Typical."
The faint flicker of a smirk tugged at Nicholas' mouth, though his gaze never left the map. Around him stood his three generals, the pillars of his strength in this fractured realm.
K, the stoic commander of the Shadow Order, master of silent warfare and unseen strikes.
Jo, cold and cunning, head of the Curse Order, whose spells could rot flesh and twist the will of even the strongest. And Harua, enigmatic and irreverent, leader of the Dark Order, witchcraft, beasts, and forbidden knowledge of his domain.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Harua," Nicholas said finally, his tone dismissive but resolute.
Harua inclined his head in silent acknowledgment.
But just as the quiet was settling again, K spoke up, his voice carefully measured. "Come to think of it… you never told us about your connection to that Legacy."
For days now, none of them had dared to ask, the storm in Nicholas' demeanor made it clear he'd tolerate no questions. But now, with the flames of Arthur's hideout fading and the air less heavy, K seized the moment.
Jo leaned a shoulder against the darkened wall and added with a faint smirk, "Yeah. Didn't know you had ties to a Legacy. Care to explain?"
Nicholas didn't even glance at them. "It's not important," he said flatly.
Harua, however, raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze locking on Nicholas. "Really?" he said, voice silky but edged. "You mobilized all of us that day. All three orders. And you're telling me that's… not important?"
For a long beat, the two of them simply stared at each other, Nicholas cool and impassive, Harua's curiosity blazing like a challenge. Of the three, Harua was the one who would never stop digging once a thread was pulled. His thirst for knowledge, for truth, was insatiable.
Finally, Nicholas sighed and broke the silence. "He was… a friend," he admitted quietly.
K scoffed, almost under his breath. "Friend? Since when?"
Nicholas shot him a sharp glare that made K avert his eyes and bite his lip. "…From when I was still in the mortal world," Nicholas continued, his voice low and steady.
"Oh," Harua murmured, lips curving into something sly. "A childhood friend, then? He seemed to know you quite well. And you…" His tone sharpened. "…you looked at him like there was history. More than just casual acquaintances."
K chimed in, pressing a little further, "Seems like there's more to this than you're letting on."
Nicholas rolled his eyes at them both before standing abruptly, his cloak flaring slightly as he turned his back on them. "He was," he said, his voice cold now, final. "…someone from the past."
And with that, he walked away, leaving the three generals exchanging glances, curiosity unquenched, but knowing better than to push him further.
Nicholas entered his chambers in silence, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. The faint chill of the Underworld air clung to him, but he hardly noticed as he crossed the room, stopping in front of the tall, dark mirror.
For a long moment, he simply stared at his reflection, at the sharpness in his eyes, the cold composure that had become his armor. Then, with a flick of his hand, a faint shimmer bloomed over his chest.
A thin chain slipped into view, materializing from the shadows. At its center hung a simple circle pendant unassuming, unadorned, but heavy with memory.
The only thing he'd kept from his mortal days.
He lifted it in his hand, the metal cool against his fingers, and let it dangle there for a moment. That necklace had once been his anchor, the small reminder to keep fighting even when pain threatened to swallow him whole.
And now…
He thought of EJ, of the way those sharp, accusing eyes had looked at him during their last encounter. The words he'd thrown over his shoulder as Nicholas turned to leave.
The next time I see you, you have to tell me what happened.
Could he? Really?
Nicholas let out a quiet breath, closing his fingers tightly around the pendant until the edges bit into his palm.
It should all be behind him now. Forgotten. Buried.
But who was he kidding?
When the very reason he'd survived, the reason he'd clawed his way through the darkness — was standing right there before him.
And no matter how many times he told himself otherwise, he knew: some things refused to stay in the past.
A knock came at the door. Nicholas didn't bother answering aloud — he simply flicked his fingers, and the lock clicked open on its own.
K stepped inside with his usual sharp grin, a folded piece of paper pinched between his fingers.
"I got what you asked for," he announced, holding it up.
Nicholas gave him a single nod. "Thanks."
K narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. "That's it? This is classified information straight out of the Celestial world. Do you know how much trouble I went through to get it? And all I get is thanks?"
Nicholas rolled his eyes and let out a faint sigh. "Fine. A vacation. One day."
That was enough to light up K's face. He grinned broadly, striding closer and setting the paper on the desk. "Now that's more like it," he said with satisfaction.
Nicholas picked up the paper and unfolded it, scanning the contents in silence.
K watched him for a beat, then raised a brow. "So why are you digging into something like this, anyway? This is Celestial business, not ours."
Nicholas's gaze stayed fixed on the page, his expression unreadable. "EJ and I… found a crystal in Arthur's hideout. It didn't feel right. The whispers, the power… it didn't feel like his. This," he said, tapping the paper lightly, "might tell me what it really was."
K crossed his arms, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. "You really think Arthur wasn't working alone?"
Nicholas finally glanced up, his eyes dark and steady. "Arthur was powerful. Dangerous. But he was also a scavenger. A man like him doesn't dream up something this big — he just follows orders."
K tilted his head, thoughtful, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he murmured. "You're probably right. He never struck me as the mastermind type."
Nicholas folded the paper again, slipping it into his coat. "Then it's time we find out who is."
"The Onyx doesn't really have a form," K remarked, watching Nicholas tuck the paper away. "That's what makes it so damn hard to track, it could be anywhere, anything."
He straightened, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "But what bothers me," he added after a pause, "is why it showed up as a crystal in that hideout. That's… unusual. The Pillars don't typically take fixed shapes. If it really was the Onyx, then maybe what you saw was some kind of prototype. Or something else entirely."
K's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone dropping lower, more speculative. "Either way… it means someone's trying to force it into a form. And that? That's dangerous."
K was right — forcing a Pillar into a tangible form was dangerous. If it could be wielded like a weapon or bent to someone's will, the delicate balance of the realm would shatter. Chaos would spill across every corner of existence, and the very shadows and light that held the worlds together could turn against them.
"Look into the old woman. Gretha," Nicholas said, his tone quiet but carrying an undeniable weight.
K blinked at him, incredulous. "My old woman? Why?"
Nicholas didn't even glance up from the parchment in his hand, fingers idly smoothing the edges. "I have reason to believe she knows something. Where is she now?"
K threw up his hands in a theatrical shrug, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Who knows? She's Gretha. She disappears for months, then turns up exactly where you least expect her. You think I can keep tabs on that?"
Nicholas finally lifted his gaze, cold and steady, and the faintest trace of a smirk ghosted across his lips. "Then it seems," he said smoothly, slipping the parchment into the folds of his coat, "you'll have a little work to do before your vacation."
K froze, his mouth partway open in protest, but the words never came. Instead, he groaned, dragging a hand down his face in defeat. "Figures," he muttered under his breath, already turning for the door.
Nicholas only watched him go, his expression unreadable, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes.