Isaac staggered backward.
His knees buckled, breath shallow, pain blooming through his side. Blood soaked his shirt. His vision blurred.
Gromma's chain was already spinning again.
Faster this time.
Like a blade made to kill.
Then…
"You will never win."
The voice spoke again in his mind.
Isaac's heart thudded once.
Hard.
His legs locked up.
"Heaven wants you dead."
Hearing that, something clicked in his chest. A memory. Twice now.
Once with Geoffrey.
Again with this Rookheim squad.
'Those men didn't earn their power. It was given to them. They weren't chosen because they worked for it, they were just instantly blessed… to kill me.'
'I had to crawl through ash. Through corpses. Through betrayal.'
He thought of Mikaela. Her voice. Her warmth. Her hand in his.
Gone.
She left him behind.
He remembered her father's command to execute him.
He remembered his parents' bodies.
And it all made sense.
'Yeah, they want me dead.
