The cage greeted me again like a bad habit.

  I muttered under my breath as the bronze bars slid into place around me, lazily flopping my head against my shoulder. “Haven’t seen the man in a while.”

  Charlotte was already there, lounging lazily across a fainting couch. One leg bent neatly, her thin black dress clinging like silk, her pale hand dangling a cluster of grapes. She plucked one with delicate fingers, teeth sinking into the red flesh as she hummed contentedly.

  She didn’t even glance at me when she spoke. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

  I smirked faintly. “You've certainly made yourself at home.”

  Her laughter chimed soft, like glass tapping glass. “Can you blame me? It’s rather nice here. I can conjure anything I desire… and I get to watch you twenty-four hours a day.”

  A bead of sweat slid down the back of my neck. My smile strained. “…You sound like a stalker.”

  Charlotte tilted her head, tapping a finger against her lips as though deep in thought. “I suppose I do meet the traditional requirements, don’t I?”

  I groaned and let my head hang, the chair’s straps biting into my wrists. A dry laugh escaped despite myself.

  Charlotte reclined again, graceful as ever. The air shimmered faintly above her hand, scarlet threads weaving together until a steaming cup of tea hovered there. She raised it casually, the vapor curling upward, indistinguishable from something real.

  I couldn’t help but admire it. “Think I could do that?”

  She sipped, crimson eyes peering at me over the rim. “Doubtful. You’re nowhere near strong enough to exert influence here. The Veil doesn’t bend for just anyone.”

  I exhaled, leaning back against the chair. “Figures.”

  Her gaze lingered for a moment before she asked, lightly, “Earlier, you mentioned… ‘the man.’ What did you mean by that?”

  I arched a brow. “The all-knowing goddess of fate doesn’t already know?”

  Her smile didn’t waver, though her eyes gleamed faintly - symbols shifting deep in the crimson irises. She said nothing. Just watched.

  So I gave in. “There’s a man in my dreams. Been there as long as I can remember. Every night, without fail. Until you came along. Now… he’s gone. Except for once - the night after the mansion. After that, I only hear his words. Faint. Like echoes.”

  For the first time since I’d met her, Charlotte’s smile faltered. Her brow furrowed, voice quieter. “What does he look like?”

  My eyebrows raised.

  Oh, a reaction?

  I thought back, the image as clear as day. “Taller than me. Broad-shouldered. Older - late thirties, maybe. Black trench coat. He always stands on a cliff overlooking an ocean. Behind him there’s a hill with a single tree, blooming black petals. And further back… a field of white flowers, stretching forever.”

  When I looked back, Charlotte’s eyes were wide. It lasted only a second before her calm mask slid back into place - but I saw it.

  She was… shocked?

  I didn’t comment. Not directly.

  Probably for the best I didn’t tell her about the phrase he repeats.

  Her gaze sharpened, almost too quick. “It’s best you don’t go back,” she said. “Good thing I summon you here every night instead. I'll make sure to keep it a habit.”

  Curiosity flickered in my eyes. “Why? Honestly, his world feels more beautiful. Calmer than this cage. And I’m not tied up there.”

  Her voice dipped, colder now. “Because if my hunch is true… you’ve made more than one contract. I might not be the only entity who’s claimed you.”

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  The words hit like ice water. My pulse quickened. “What do you mean-? That man is-”

  Charlotte’s smile returned, thinner this time.

  “Another entity of the Veil. The one who granted you your other pathway. I should have known such an enigmatic and horrifying power was not obtained through a mere bloodline.”

  My breath caught.

  It must have been before my memories were erased. Which means…

  My eyes sharpened, my thoughts racing.

  He must know my past. He must have seen everything.

  That would explain how my diary repeated the same words as him. My past self must have been haunted by him as well.

  I almost slapped my head, if not for the restraints holding me back.

  How could I have not figured that out? It should have been obvious after Charlotte.

  Not to mention this leaves more questions than answers...

  Suddenly, the air shifted.

  At first, I thought it was just in my head, but then I saw it - outside the cage, the darkness rippled. Like water under pressure. The bars groaned softly, bending inward by the smallest fraction, as though something enormous pressed against them from beyond.

  A cold prickle climbed my spine. My shadows stirred without command.

  Charlotte’s eyes sharpened instantly. The grapes and tea vanished like smoke, and her fingertips began to bleed scarlet threads. They coiled around her hands in restless spirals, weaving into cords that hissed against the bars.

  Her gaze ignited.

  The runes in her irises spun like wheels of fire - sigils within sigils, rotating layers upon layers, each glowing faintly as though carved from living scripture. A cathedral of symbols bloomed within her pupils, all orbiting one another with impossible precision.

  The red strings lashed forward, colliding with the cage’s edge in a hiss of pressure. Miasma followed, scarlet vapor clinging to the bronze like a second skin. The bars buckled, then steadied, groaning under the clash of forces.

  For a heartbeat, I thought the whole cage would tear apart.

  Then, slowly, the pressure outside waned. The rippling void receded, folding back into itself until the darkness was still again.

  Charlotte lowered her hand. The strings disintegrated into dust. Her glowing eyes dulled, the sigils retreating like embers dying into ash.

  She let out a breath through her nose, calm again.

  “Something tells me,” she said evenly, her voice carrying a faint edge, “that your other pathway is intimately connected to the Veil. More so than others, and that man you're seeing has more power than you could ever imagine.”

  I stared outside in shock, the infinite blackness back to stillness.

  That can't have been him... right?

  I shook my head, dispelling the thought.

  "I'll only admit this once, Charlotte. I think I should have listened to your advice."

  Charlotte leaned forward slightly, her crimson gaze catching mine. “So you recognize the position you’re in now. Good. Maybe you’ll finally take my advice seriously - and stop borrowing from an entity you know nothing about. Power is not taken, Damian. It’s borrowed. And when you borrow…” She lifted a grape from the vine, crushed it delicately between her teeth. “…you always pay back something.”

  My jaw clenched. “…And how am I paying you?”

  Her lips curved faintly. “Your payment will come in due time. But rest assured - it’s far better than what most would offer.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Still won’t tell me though, will you?”

  Charlotte tilted her head, her smile never breaking, though her eyes thinned like sharpened glass. “You already signed the contract. You can always stop using my power, if you want to.”

  I let the silence sit. Then smiled. “You’re right. But it’ll take a while before I trust the so-called apostle who betrayed humanity.”

  That earned a sudden laugh from her, melodic but edged. “When you put it like that… perhaps I see your point.”

  She leaned back against the chair, stretching like a cat, the fabric of her dress clinging faintly to her frame. “Tell me - how goes your little investigation?”

  I exhaled slowly. “I need Mary’s help now. And if my hunch is right, I might be walking into a trap.”

  Charlotte’s gaze narrowed to a thin gleam. “The Mary girl… she’s troublesome.”

  “Tell me about it.” I leaned my head back, cracking my neck. “But at least she’s not as unbearable as I thought. Intelligent, even. Admirable, in a way. She can see past her own royal arrogance when it counts.”

  Charlotte shook her head, crimson hair shifting faintly. “Cut her off when she’s lost her use. Don’t let her linger.”

  I smirked sideways. “How cruel.”

  She sipped her tea with unshakable poise. “Life is cruel. Better you remember that, than tie yourself to a walking time bomb. Those Eyes are nothing but trouble. Unlike mine, which I help you control.”

  I leaned forward slightly, voice quieter. “On that note, her eyes. The Eyes of Verity. What are they really?”

  For a moment, Charlotte studied me without speaking. Then her lips parted softly. “She inherited the Sixth Apostle’s eyes. That woman was… aloof. Distant. Not exactly fond of humans. Not that I could blame her - she saw more of humanity’s ugliness than anyone. Every lie. Every betrayal. Every rotting corner of the soul.”

  Her fingers traced the rim of her cup. “And yet… she also saw the beauty. The truth of kindness when it was unspoken. So despite her aloofness, she was gentle, when no one was looking.”

  I frowned faintly. “And I’m guessing you won’t tell me anything else.”

  Charlotte’s smile flickered, the tiniest curl of amusement. “That will have to wait.”

  A wave of exhaustion pressed down over me, heavy as stone. My eyes grew sluggish, my shoulders slack against the chair’s straps.

  Charlotte raised her cup in a mock toast, crimson gaze glowing faintly through the haze. “Until next time, Damian.”

  The last thing I heard was her voice, soft as silk.

  “Sleep well, little Inquisitor.”

  The cage dissolved into black.