Darkness receded.

  Valerius’s eyes snapped open — air tore into his lungs as he gasped, clawing at his chest. Pain ripped through him like a blade dragged across raw nerves.

  He rolled over, groaning, and forced himself onto his knees.

  “Damn it… it hurts so much…”

  Blood seeped between his fingers where they dug into his chest. Around him, the prison cafeteria froze. Thousands of human prisoners stared, whispering.

  His breath came in ragged bursts, each inhale a tremor.

  Then Yelleen’s voice entered his mind — calm but edged with concern.

  “Stop moving, Valerius. Stay calm. The more energy you exert, the worse it will get.”

  He clenched his teeth — but the agony only deepened.

  “Valerius, listen!” Yelleen’s tone hardened. “That dagger lodged inside you — it’s not just suppressing Vitalis. It’s feeding on the bio-electrical current your muscles release when you move. It measures the energy gradient of every motion. The more energy your cells output, the more pain feedback it generates. In short—”

  Valerius gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand.

  “—the stronger or faster you try to move, the greater the agony.”

  He staggered upright, towering above the sea of frightened prisoners. His shadow stretched across the floor like a giant resurrected from myth.

  “Even standing still hurts,” he hissed, his voice trembling. “But… it’s bearable.”

  “You’ve been unconscious for three days,” Yelleen said softly.

  Valerius froze. “Three… days?”

  His mind reeled. How? I've been with Eperion only a few minutes.

  Then the realization hit him — and his pulse surged.

  “Eliana.”

  He leapt — pure reflex.

  The scream that followed tore from his throat like thunder. His body convulsed midair as invisible fire consumed every muscle. He crashed back to the ground, gasping, trembling.

  “I told you,” Yelleen warned. “The more energy you use, the worse it becomes.”

  Valerius pressed a hand to the ground, veins bulging, jaw clenched.

  “I can’t stay here,” he growled. “I have to save Eliana.”

  He forced himself up and leapt again — higher this time, a desperate defiance of pain.

  Agony ripped through him. He screamed, crashing down face-first into the stone floor.

  His breath came in broken gasps. “I… can’t… stay… here…”

  The guards were already moving.

  Boots thundered across the walkways. Dozens surrounded him, rifles raised.

  “Stop!” one shouted. “Now!”

  Valerius looked up, sweat dripping from his face.

  They fired.

  Bullets sparked harmlessly off his skin, clinking against the floor. He crouched, knees bent, every muscle screaming in protest. His body felt like it was being ripped apart from within.

  And still—he jumped.

  Pain exploded through him. The air rippled from the force of his movement as he rose twenty stories in a single bound. His scream echoed through the vast hollow of Pentagon’s Hole — a roar of pain, rage, and defiance.

  The prisoners below shielded their eyes as dust and shockwaves burst outward.

  Above, the guards shouted in panic.

  “Is he insane?!”

  But Valerius didn’t hear them.

  He could only think of one name, one image — a girl’s face framed in golden light.

  Eliana…

  Valerius’s fingers caught the cold iron railing. His body swung forward with a crash, pain flaring through every nerve like molten fire.

  Below, a guard shouted, “A prisoner’s trying to escape! I need backup!”

  The alarm blared through the pit. Red lights pulsed along the inner walls of Pentagon’s Hole as dozens of guards leapt from railing to railing, scaling upward in pursuit.

  Valerius didn’t look back. His breath came in shallow bursts, pain searing his chest. He leapt again, grabbing another railing higher above. The metal bent under his weight.

  He could feel the dagger vibrating inside him, burning each time his muscles moved.

  Still—he climbed.

  Higher.

  And higher.

  The ceiling loomed above, faint light bleeding through its cracks.

  With a final roar, he bent his knees and launched upward, his body screaming in protest. He drew back his arm, every fiber of his being howling in pain, and punched the ceiling.

  The shock vanished—absorbed by the Hecko stone.

  The impact sent Valerius plummeting back down. He hit the floor hard, dust and smoke rising like a storm.

  From the crowd, Valtos stood motionless, watching. His eyes followed as guards flooded in from every direction, weapons raised.

  They surrounded Valerius. One struck him in the back of the head with a baton — another slammed a boot into his ribs.

  The blows did nothing.

  He barely flinched. Their batons shattered against his skin like sticks against stone.

  But he didn’t move.

  Damn it… I can’t break out.

  I don’t even know what happened to Eliana.

  No… I can’t give in.

  He tried again — inhaling deeply, forcing air through his lungs, attempting to channel the power he once wielded with ease.

  He took a slow breath.

  I can’t stay here. Not while she’s out there.

  Yelleen’s voice echoed in his mind.

  “Valerius, don’t. Every time you move like that, the feedback spikes tenfold.”

  He didn’t answer.

  He crouched, veins bulging beneath his skin, muscles trembling under invisible strain.

  Then he leapt.

  The world blurred. Pain detonated through his body like lightning ripping through every fiber.

  He landed on the next platform with a thunderous clang, metal bending under his weight.

  Guards shouted above.

  “THERE HE IS AGAIN! STOP HIM!”

  He ignored them.

  Another leap—higher. The rail snapped in his grip, sparks scattering into the abyss.

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  “You can’t break out this way,” Yelleen pleaded. “I told you—the walls absorb shock!”

  He didn’t stop.

  He launched upward once more, every muscle screaming in agony. The dagger’s feedback intensified; arcs of blue light flickered along his veins like burning circuits.

  He reached the highest bridge and looked up at the ceiling—a dark slab of Hecko stone far above.

  He roared and punched.

  The ceiling trembled… then absorbed the blow. The energy vanished—swallowed whole.

  But the pain didn’t.

  Damn it… I can’t punch harder.

  He struck again, growling through his teeth.

  The pain—it’s too much.

  The strength Valerius was exerting was nothing compared to his true power. But he couldn’t draw on more—the excruciating pain prevented him.

  He fell, crashing through a lower platform before slamming into the ground fifty stories below.

  Dust spiraled upward as prisoners screamed and scattered.

  Guards surrounded him, their batons crackling with electrical charge.

  “STAY DOWN!” one barked.

  Valerius’s hand twitched. Slowly, he pushed himself up—his face half hidden in shadow.

  The first baton struck his shoulder. Crack.

  The second slammed against his ribs. Crack.

  The blows did nothing.

  He straightened, knees bent. Veins bulged.

  He screamed.

  Then he leapt.

  The air thundered—the sound barrier shattered.

  The shockwave blasted the guards backward, their bodies thrown across the floor like rag dolls.

  Pain followed instantly, sharper than ever. His body convulsed midair, blue veins blazing under his skin. He struck the ceiling again—another futile blow.

  Nothing.

  He fell—slamming into the ground, the impact echoing through the abyss.

  He knelt there, panting, sweat streaming down his face.

  His vision blurred. Around him, the humans whispered—half in awe, half in fear.

  “He’s insane…”

  “No one can move like that…”

  “He’s still alive…”

  Valerius clenched his fists, forcing air through his teeth.

  “If I stop…” he hissed, “I’ll rot here.”

  He jumped again.

  And again.

  Each time slower.

  Each time weaker.

  Until, finally, on the last fall, he hit the floor—and didn’t rise.

  The chamber fell silent.

  Yelleen’s voice softened in his mind.

  “You can’t brute-force this, Valerius. The pain will only grow. You must think. Not fight.”

  He couldn’t stand. It hurt too much.

  He lay on his back, staring at the unreachable roof. His breath came in slow, trembling pulls.

  Eliana…

  His hand twitched toward the dagger buried in his chest.

  There has to be another way.

  The guards didn’t dare approach. They had learned—beating him did nothing.

  Valerius slowly sat up. The blue light in his veins dimmed and faded. His jaw tightened, his eyes cold and resolved.

  “Fine,” he whispered.

  “If the roof won’t break…”

  He looked up at the endless height of the pit, a spark of defiance glinting in his gaze.

  “…then I’ll find another way out.”

  ---

  Hours passed.

  Valerius sat slumped at a metal table, a bowl of gray food in front of him. The cafeteria buzzed with noise — thousands of prisoners talking, shouting, eating.

  Across from him, Valtos sat down with a smirk.

  “You’ve got the same band I do,” he said, eyeing Valerius’s wrists. “So how the hell are you still that strong?”

  Valerius didn’t look up. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Valtos,” he said, leaning back. “The strongest Catastrophe.”

  Valerius’s expression didn’t change. “What do you want?”

  Before Valtos could answer, another voice joined them — smooth, accented, confident.

  “Hey there, Yilheimer.”

  Both turned.

  A young man slid into the seat beside Valerius. He was tall — around six feet — with olive skin, black hair slicked back, and sharp brown eyes that glimmered with curiosity. His tone carried a light French accent.

  “I never thought I’d see someone like you here,” he said. “Thought this place was only for us. But after what you pulled back there…”

  He leaned closer, lowering his voice.

  “That means you can help us escape.”

  Valtos scowled. “Who invited you? Go sit somewhere else.”

  The man smiled without looking at him. “I’ve got business with this big guy.”

  He extended his hand toward Valerius.

  “Name’s Roland.”

  Valerius glanced at him briefly. “France?”

  Roland blinked. “Yes. Wait—how did you know that?”

  Valtos frowned. “Yeah… how did you know that?”

  Valerius didn’t answer, he sighed and stared at the food.

  “Don’t worry,” Yelleen’s voice whispered in his mind. “It’s not poisonous.”

  He picked up the spoon and started to eat.

  Roland leaned in again. “Like I said, I want you to help us escape.”

  Valerius swallowed, his voice quiet but firm. “I can’t break through these walls. I can’t help you.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Roland said. “I saw what you did. You’re insanely strong. I know you can break us out.”

  Valerius turned his head slightly, one eyebrow raised. “And how do you know that?”

  Roland grinned, placing a hand on Valerius’s shoulder. The size difference was absurd — Roland’s head barely reached his chest.

  “Because,” he said, “we Earthers can see something you Yilheimers can’t.”

  He tilted his head upward, his eyes gleaming.

  “Everyone has a Threat Level — a visible mark only we can see. And you, my friend…”

  He looked up — his expression flickering between awe and disbelief.

  “…I’ve never seen one like yours.”

  Above Valerius’s head, faintly burning in Roland’s vision, glowed two red skulls — shimmering like a death omen.

  ??

  ---

  To Be Continued...