Cain stared at the spirit, the name echoing in his mind.
Gluttony.
It didn't feel real. It sounded like something ripped from an old myth. And yet the way the spirit said it, the weight behind his voice, made it impossible to dismiss.
Cain's fingers curled tighter around the necklace in his hand.
"How do you know all this?" he asked.
The spirit arched a brow, like the question was amusing but not unexpected.
"That's what you're asking me?" he said with a low chuckle. "Not what Gluttony actually does, or if it's going to eat you from the inside out? You want to know how I know?"
"I want the truth," Cain said flatly.
The smile faded from the spirit's face, just a little.
"Then here it is," he said. "I know because I was the one who taught them."
Cain blinked. "Taught who?"
"The one you call the Origin of Sin. The one who had Gluttony before you."
The words sat heavy in the air.
Cain's heart beat a little faster, though he wasn't sure why. The pain in his side was still pulsing, still very real, but something colder had begun to creep into his chest.
"You trained them?"
"I did," the spirit said calmly. "And not just them. I've trained many over the years. Centuries, if you want to get technical. Some rose, some fell. Some changed the world. Some were crushed by it. But I remember every one of them."
Cain stared at him, trying to decide if he was serious. If this was another act. Another dramatic performance to keep him guessing.
The spirit tilted his head, staring at Cain from the corner of his eye.
"A better question to ask me is Who I am. That will answer more than any other question could."
Cain hesitated, breath caught halfway. The mist had quieted. The spirit was watching him without pressure, but his presence still weighed heavy.
"Then who are you?" Cain asked, voice low.
The spirit's smile changed, slow and measured.
"My name," he said, "is Gaius."
Cain froze.
The name echoed in his skull like a drumbeat. His breath hitched. The cold pain in his side faded beneath something colder.
"You're lying," he said.
Gaius tilted his head. "That your first guess? I'm flattered."
"No. That's not possible." Cain's voice cracked. "Gaius is sealed away and scattered. For all intents and purposes, he is dead."
Gaius blinked once. Then he laughed. Not cruelly, not mocking. It was genuine, surprised amusement.
"Is that what they say now? Dead?"
Cain could barely speak. "You're the Immortal Betrayer."
Gaius paused. His brows lifted slowly. His smile returned, smaller this time.
"Well. That's new."
"You mean you didn't know?" Cain asked, stunned.
Gaius scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Immortal, sure. That one I've heard before since that part is true. But Betrayer? So that's what those bastards ended up calling me."
Cain forced himself upright, pain pulsing at the edges of his vision. "That's what they wrote. That you trained the Hundred Heroes and turned on them. That you led them into ruin."
Gaius let out a quiet breath. Not quite a sigh. Not quite a laugh.
"Well. That's certainly dramatic. Easier to paint the teacher as the villain than admit the students tore themselves apart."
Cain shook his head slowly. "You're not even denying it."
Gaius looked over at him, expression unreadable. "What would be the point? You've already made up your mind."
Cain's voice dropped, colder now. "You should be haunted. Ashamed. But you're just… amused."
Gaius tilted his head again. "Ashamed of what? Giving them everything and watching them squander it? They made their choices. I just watched the consequences unfold."
"You think they betrayed you?" Cain said, disgust bleeding into his voice.
"I don't think," Gaius replied. "I remember."
Cain's stomach turned. Everything he had ever learned about this man said he was a monster. A traitor. But the real horror wasn't the betrayal. It was this. A teacher who truly believed his students had turned on him.
"You're insane."
"Am I?" Gaius asked calmly. "Is it so hard to believe that the people you loved and trusted stab you in the back for glory. For fame? Envy?"
Cain didn't respond.
The words hung there, heavy and sharp. They echoed too closely. Hit too deep.
He thought of the whispers. The way they looked at him. The lies told behind closed doors. The blade that found his gut. The faces that watched it happen.
He clenched his fists slowly.
Gaius watched him, eyes narrowed slightly. Not smug. Not gloating. Just patient.
Cain's jaw tightened.
He wanted to deny it. Wanted to hold onto the image of Gaius as a monster. A traitor. A cautionary tale carved into textbooks and whispered through war stories. But all he could see was the image of someone like him. Someone left behind. Someone hated for the crime of being necessary until they weren't.
Cain looked down at the scar forming where the wound had been. The mist still clung faintly to it, warm and alive.
He gritted his teeth.
"I don't care what they called you," he said. His voice was rough but steady. "You're going to teach me."
Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
Cain met his gaze. "You said it yourself. I've got something different. So teach me how to use it."
A small grin pulled at Gaius's lips. "You sure? You might not like who you become when you see the truth of that power."
Cain's expression didn't waver. "I'm already someone I don't like. Might as well become someone they'll regret making."
The grin widened.
Gaius nodded slowly. "Good. Then get ready. Because Gluttony doesn't awaken gently."
Cain's fingers curled tighter around the necklace again. The pulse within it seemed stronger now. Clearer. Like something inside it had finally stirred. Like something had opened its eyes.
Let them fear it.
Let them remember.
He had been cast aside. Left to bleed out in a forgotten chamber with nothing but spite and rage to keep him breathing. They had called him weak. Disposable. A mistake. But now, in the presence of someone who had trained monsters and legends alike, he felt something shift.
Not hope.
Not redemption.
Something else.
A hunger that had been quietly gnawing at him since the moment he fell.
"I want to know everything," Cain said. His voice was quieter now, but steadier. "About Gluttony. About you. About all of it."
Gaius gave a thoughtful hum and crossed his legs in midair, the mist coiling around him like a cat settling into a favorite spot.
"Then you'd better be ready to unlearn everything they've ever taught you," he said. "Because the world you think you know is just the version they let survive."
Cain's gaze didn't waver. "I don't care. If it means learning how to survive... if it means I can make them pay... then strip it all away."