Mystica and Liam stepped out of the portal, emerging into a space completely unfamiliar to him. Liam's eyes scanned their surroundings—it wasn't a chamber fit for rest or discussion. The walls and floor were made of cold cobblestone, damp and echoing with silence. There was no furniture, no light source aside from the faint glow from the portal, and the air felt stale.
"This... is a dungeon," Liam murmured, his voice low as he took it all in.
"Yup," Mystica replied with a playful smirk. "We need our dear Gordon somewhere nice and quiet for a little heart-to-heart." With a wave of her hand, she summoned Gordon's unconscious body from her spatial pocket.
She raised him effortlessly using telekinesis, then floated him across the room and slammed him into the wall. Chains clinked and tightened as she bound his wrists and ankles, suspending him in the air like a rag doll.
"There. That should keep him cozy," Mystica said with a satisfied nod.
Liam's gaze shifted from Gordon to her. "You said we needed to talk. I assumed it was between us."
Mystica turned to him, an impish glint in her purple eyes. "I did say that. But I never said you and me."
"What?" Liam blinked. "Then who—?"
Before the question was finished, a new portal flared open behind Mystica. Two figures stepped out. One was immediately recognizable—Dove, in her ever-present long white lab coat and bored expression. The other made Liam's posture straighten instinctively.
She was a regal woman in a flowing gown of deep emerald, adorned with a crown that shimmered in the dim light. Her long, dark hair was elegantly styled, and her emerald eyes held a quiet authority, calm and commanding all at once.
"So, you managed to catch him," Lucy said, her eyes falling on Gordon's limp form with icy detachment.
"Told you he would," Mystica answered smugly. "I had faith in Liam."
The words triggered a memory. When Seraphina contacted Mystica to speak with Liam, Mystica had been in Lucy's office at the time—discussing the growing threat of Lord Sylvathar. When Liam said his life was on the line, Lucy's reaction was one of concern deeper than any she had shown—even more than for her own son, Chris.
And when Mystica explained the plan—telling Liam to lure Gordon out while Seraphina took care of the rest—Lucy had been furious. She accused Mystica of gambling with Liam's life, of treating the situation too lightly. But Mystica stood her ground, assuring the queen she knew Liam's limits and strengths better than anyone.
"That doesn't change the fact that you put his life in danger," Lucy said now, her voice cool and edged like a blade.
"Oh, Your Majesty," Dove cut in with a lazy smirk. "Don't tell me this little demon brat's gotten you all soft and sentimental." Her eyes flicked to Liam. "Never thought I'd see the day."
'That's Queen Lucy...?' Liam thought as he observed the three women—power, mischief, and mystery all in one room.
Then Lucy's gaze found him. Her sharp green eyes softened slightly as she approached. "So, you're Liam Hunter," she said, her tone calm but curious.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Liam replied, dropping to one knee in a respectful gesture.
Lucy let out a quiet chuckle. "There's no need for that. Not with me."
Behind her, Dove made a gagging sound. "Ugh. Look at him, all polite and proper. If someone told me this arrogant punk had manners, I'd have laughed in their face."
She turned back to Gordon, muttering, "What a fake bastard."
Dove crouched beside Gordon's limp, chained form, her gloved fingers brushing his jaw with cold detachment. "Still breathing. Lovely," she muttered. "I thought all that dramatics might've killed him." With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a small orb of light and passed it over his chest and neck, checking for signs of mystic circulation.
Meanwhile, Lucy stepped closer to Liam, her presence quiet but commanding. "Mystica's told me quite a lot about you, Liam. But it seems even her words don't quite capture the full picture."
Liam rose to his feet, maintaining a respectful posture. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Though honestly, I didn't do much. Gordon practically walked into the trap himself."
Mystica chuckled. "You're downplaying your role again. It's starting to become a habit."
Dove scoffed without looking up. "Please. The two of you are insufferable."
Lucy folded her hands before her. "You've faced more than most grown men, Liam. But tell me—how much do you really know about Sylvathar, the Demon Lord of Gaia?"
Liam's red eyes shifted to Gordon's restrained form. "Not enough. I just know he's powerful, deeply invested in Sheila for some reason, and… not someone I'd want to meet."
Lucy nodded slowly. "Still willing to fight with such limited knowledge. You really are your ancestors' last kind."
Liam tilted his head slightly, curious about the remark, but before he could speak, Mystica raised her hand. Gordon stirred with a groan, his head lolling forward as the chains creaked beneath his weight. Slowly, he began to regain consciousness.
"Rise and shine, sunshine," Dove said brightly, her smile full of venom.
Gordon's bloodshot eyes snapped open, wild and disoriented—until they locked onto Liam. Rage flared instantly.
Mystica stepped between them, her expression unreadable. "Welcome back, Gordon. Feeling powerless? You should be."
"What—what did you do to me?!" he barked, straining against the chains.
"Nullify," she said sweetly. "You've been cut off from your mystic flow, from Ember, and from Lord Sylvathar. You're isolated. So try not to scream too much."
Gordon bared his teeth, but the panic behind his glare was unmistakable.
Liam studied him quietly. Without his power, he's not the same. All that overwhelming pressure from before… it's gone. He's just a man now. A desperate one.
Then Gordon's gaze snapped to Lucy. "Y-Your Majesty…?"
Lucy's stare was glacial. "Nice to see you too, Gordon," she said coolly. "You've finally made my job easier—betraying the kingdom and getting caught. Now I don't need to debate your execution."
Gordon's face paled. He had always gotten away with everything, protected by King Omer Rature's influence. But in this moment, he knew: the king wouldn't save him now.
"I—I can explain, my Queen, I—"
"Let me guess," Lucy interrupted, voice smooth and razor-sharp. "You were forced? Deceived? Led astray? Spare me. I've heard every variant of that lie."
She took a step closer, her gaze hardening. "Do us all a favor and answer every question truthfully. No more games. You owe that much to whatever scrap of dignity you have left."