Zack sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, his boots echoing off the creaky wooden floor. Each step sent groans through the old mansion, and every corner they turned seemed darker, more foreboding.
"Eek!" Silva squeaked, clinging to his arm whenever a rat scurried by or a spider dropped from the ceiling.
Despite the tension, Zack couldn't help but glance sideways at her. Her elegant features twisted in adorable disgust, her body pressed close against his. Under any other circumstances, he would've taken a moment to enjoy it.
But there was no time for that. Ico was in danger.
"Ugh…" he grunted, clutching his left arm.
The fang mark etched into his skin pulsed, heat flaring beneath his sleeve. A soft light emanated from the markings, casting eerie shadows against the walls. It was reacting to something—no, someone.
"Ico…"
Though the mansion's windows had all been boarded shut, the glow from the fang mark was enough to light their way. It was guiding them—pulling them like a compass.
Finally, they reached a heavy, reinforced door at the end of the hallway.
Zack reached for the handle, then hesitated. It was locked tight. Solid.
"…Should I knock?"
Before he could finish the thought, Silva stepped forward, her expression hardening.
"Out of the way. I'll blow it open."
"W-Wait, Princess—!"
But she was already moving. Silva drew a bright red Bright Dragon Crystal from her coat.
"Crimson Ex-Breath!"
The crystal flared to life, and with a thunderous boom, a searing blast of crimson energy shattered the door from its hinges. Smoke and dust billowed into the corridor, the heat brushing against their skin.
Zack raised his arm instinctively to shield his face.
"Ico!" he shouted as he charged into the smoky room, heart pounding.
For a moment, the swirling smoke obscured everything. Then, as it slowly cleared, he froze.
Standing calmly in the center of the room was a woman dressed in white. Her lab coat fluttered around her, pristine despite the explosion. Round glasses perched elegantly on her nose, and her dark hair was pinned into a neat bun. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five, but her presence carried a chilling authority.
Behind her, illuminated by the ambient glow of the Bright Dragon Crystals, was Ico.
Her slender form was strapped to a cold steel table, completely nude save for her thigh-high socks. Her pale skin shimmered under the magical light, her chest rising and falling rapidly with panic. Her pink-silvered hair was disheveled, cascading around her flushed cheeks. Her legs were bound apart, her arms tied above her head, and her entire body was exposed.
Zack's face burned with a mix of rage and embarrassment.
"What the hell are you doing to my Par?!"
Ico's crimson eyes widened when she saw him.
"Zack, you idiot! You're late! Untie me right now!"
"S-Sorry… Wait, why am I apologizing?!"
"What?!" she snapped, her glare sharp—though the effect was dulled somewhat by the way her body squirmed against the restraints. Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from sheer frustration and humiliation.
Zack quickly tore his eyes away from her exposed body. He tried to focus on the woman in white, but Ico's flushed curves were burned into his mind.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
The woman adjusted her glasses calmly. "I'm simply carrying out the duties assigned to me by the academy. Admittedly, my methods may be a bit… assertive."
Zack's brows furrowed. "The academy…?"
Behind him, Silva stepped forward sharply.
"She's… Dr. Clarisse Kornwell."
Zack blinked. "What?!"
"I heard rumors she had a laboratory somewhere in the city, but… I never imagined it'd be in a place like this."
"You're joking…"
Silva, ignoring his disbelief, stepped forward and extended her hand like she was greeting royalty.
"Doctor, I've long admired your published work. It's an honor to meet you."
Clarisse accepted the handshake with a polite nod. "The honor is mine, Your Highness Steinert."
The air in the room seemed to relax slightly with the formalities—though Zack's blood was still boiling.
Dr. Clarisse Kornwell… The name rang in his head.
Roderika had mentioned her just that morning—a renowned scholar requested to examine Ico on behalf of the academy. But Roderika also said the doctor had other obligations and wouldn't be available right away.
Clarisse must've noticed the realization on his face, because she offered a thin smile.
"I often receive dull, repetitive requests from the academy. I wasn't interested at first… but the moment I heard a dragon had been born in human form, I knew I had to see it myself. I've been observing you both since this morning."
Zack's breath hitched. That eerie feeling of being watched—it had been her.
"Wait, you only got the request this morning! How did you even find us?!"
Clarisse tilted her head playfully. "Zack, you're more famous than you realize. The only Breeder at the academy without a Par—until now. The prodigy who can ride any dragon with ease. You made quite the impression, you know."
Zack's chest puffed slightly at the compliment—coming from such a gorgeous, intelligent woman, no less. But then he shook his head violently.
"No, hold on! You still kidnapped Ico! That's illegal! And—what the hell were you planning to do with that scalpel?!"
Clarisse smiled, almost sweetly.
"Dissection, of course."
"WHAT?!" he shouted.
She replied with unsettling calm. "To truly understand something, even a dragon, one must be willing to look beneath the surface."
"You've got to be kidding me…" Zack growled, stepping protectively in front of Ico. Her body was trembling now—not with fear, but with indignation and embarrassment.
"Ico's coming with me. I don't care what twisted justification you have."
And with that, Zack moved to untie her.
"I won't allow that."
Clarisse stepped in front of Zack, blocking his path like a wall of cold authority, her lab coat fluttering gently with her movement.
"…What do you think you're doing?" he growled, tightening his grip on the edge of the table where Ico lay restrained.
Her smile widened, almost predatory. "How could I possibly let such a fascinating specimen walk away? She's not the only one that piques my curiosity, after all…"
Clarisse's sharp gaze dropped to Zack's left arm.
"…There's something else that's been calling out to me."
Zack's eyes widened. Shit…!
Only then did he realize that in all the chaos, his sleeve had rolled up—exposing the strange fang mark etched into his skin. It shimmered faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"So that's the infamous fang mark," Clarisse whispered, taking a slow, deliberate step toward him. "I've seen dozens of them throughout my career… but yours is unlike anything I've ever encountered. May I take a closer look?"
Zack yanked his arm back as if burned. "Absolutely not! You have no idea how hard I've worked to hide this thing!"
His voice cracked with frustration. Memories surged—whispers in the academy halls, the looks of fear and disgust, the cruel names. From the moment he arrived, everyone had treated him like a walking curse. Even the instructors didn't quite know what to make of him.
To most, his fang mark wasn't a symbol of potential—it was an omen.
"I see…" Clarisse murmured, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "You're afraid of your own power."
"That's not—!" Zack's voice caught in his throat.
His cheeks flushed with shame. Deep down, she was right. He was afraid. Afraid of what the fang mark meant. Afraid of what it might one day do to him—or worse, to Ico.
"Hey! Stop ignoring me already!"
Ico's voice rang out, laced with irritation and embarrassment. Her ample chest rose and fell with every breath, beads of sweat rolling down her bare skin. The restraints kept her from covering herself, and the subtle tremble in her thighs only emphasized her vulnerability.
Zack forced himself to refocus.
"Enough of this. Move aside!" he demanded, his tone sharpened by the sight of Ico's helpless form.
Clarisse's eyes sparkled with interest. "Then let's have Her Highness decide, shall we?"
"…Me?" Silva blinked, clearly startled at being pulled into the conflict so abruptly.
Clarisse turned to her with an almost mocking smile. "You're a representative of the crown. Surely your word carries weight."
"I-I…" Silva looked conflicted, caught between her admiration for the brilliant professor and the situation unfolding before her eyes. She glanced at Ico, then at Zack, and finally nodded slowly.
"I can understand the professor's perspective… There's no doubt Ico is a one-of-a-kind dragon."
Clarisse's smirk deepened. "As expected from a member of House Steinert."
But Silva wasn't finished. Her gaze sharpened, and her voice grew firm.
"However, dragons are sacred beings. Symbols of our nation's pride and divine heritage. I can't permit such a creature to be dissected like a lab rat."
"Princess Silva…!" Zack's voice softened. Though her stance had wavered at first, her final words landed like steel. And he was grateful for it.
Clarisse's smile faltered, just slightly.
"…How disappointing," she murmured.
And then, the air shifted.
Zack's skin prickled. The temperature in the room didn't change—but the atmosphere grew heavy, thick, as if the oxygen itself had turned to syrup. A suffocating pressure began to build, crawling up from the floor like a miasma.
Clarisse's expression darkened—not with rage, but something more… dangerous.