Aqua's footsteps echoed through the hall as he stepped forward, his cold eyes scanning each of them in turn.
"We'll remove your shackles now… Don't do anything stupid."
He raised a hand. Soldiers moved in from both sides, tools and enchanted keys in hand to unlock the magical restraints.
Sera glanced to the side…
Marcus's eyes were burning.
His body tensed, on the verge of lunging.
She hissed sharply, her voice like a suppressed scream:
"Don't! Marcus—We're no match for them!"
Her words trembled with bitter truth.
She'd seen—just a glimpse—of Ilarious's power, and that was more than enough.
And if all of them moved together? Ilarious… Darius… Gerald… Valerian…
No.
One wrong move, and they would be wiped out.
"Stay sane…" she whispered, watching the cuffs unlock.
The clattering chains hit the floor. Their bodies were free… but their fates were bound.
Suddenly, Peter stepped forward.
He moved cautiously toward the Emperor, pausing, then standing his ground.
His voice was dry, strained with desperate restraint:
"We can't… be separated from Nereus!"
The Emperor didn't answer right away.
He just looked at him—like someone turning over an unimportant thought.
"Which one is Nereus… among you?"
His tone was void of care.
Peter's eyes shifted.
"The blind boy… He's the youngest."
He bit his lip, and then added:
"And he can't… be without us."
A heavy silence.
"He needs us… He can't see… He doesn't feel safe… and no one else will understand him the way we do."
The room held its breath.
Then the Emperor spoke, cold and without hesitation:
"Weakness… is not an excuse."
Peter stared in disbelief.
But the Emperor continued, voice like a blade:
"If he can't handle being apart from you, that is his burden. We do not shape this kingdom around the emotions of the weak."
Each word hit like a slap.
Peter felt his blood boil—
But then, a soft voice broke the tension.
"I'll take care of him."
Everyone turned.
It was Loren—the knight who had asked to take Nereus under her command.
Her eyes were steady as she looked to the Emperor.
"I'll keep him safe. I'll make him stronger… so he won't need anyone."
Sera whispered beneath her breath:
"But he doesn't need strength… He needs warmth…"
Yet her words vanished into the silence.
And then—
The Emperor raised his hand.
"Take them."
The royal knights moved.
Gerald stepped behind Lukas.
Valerian behind Peter.
Ilarious? He was still smiling at Sera, as if savoring every second of her unraveling shock.
Marcus, despite his defiant smirks… was no longer laughing.
And Nereus… had already disappeared behind Loren, carried away like a fragile artifact out of place.
Every step that pulled them apart…
was like a slow knife… cutting deep without blood.
No team remained.
Only strangers, under different banners.