Theo hurtled through the darkness, his body skidding across the wet stone floor, water spraying with each bounce.
He slammed a hand down, fingers clawing at the slick ground, dragging himself to a sudden, grinding halt. His boots scraped, water splashed, and he steadied his stance with a deep breath, his back straightening. Confusion crept into his expression—something was wrong.
Back then, he couldn't move. Even if he wanted to.
Then again—
tchtchtchtch—tchtch—tch—
A sound—subtle and sharp—sliced through the silence.
Theo's grip tightened around his sword. He inhaled, then lashed out in a full horizontal arc—a gleaming silver slash tearing through the air with a roaring SWOOSH. The force of it carved through the darkness, the echo of impact rippling outward.
WHUD–SPLSH!
To his right—a sudden burst of water. Something—or someone—had leapt.
SPLSHK–THUD!
Another impact—behind him.
Then—splash… echo… splash… echo…
Footsteps. Slow. Steady. Closing in.
Theo turned, his armor glinting under the faint light, still barely scratched. He faced the source of the sound.
With sharp caution, he spoke.
"Isn't it polite to introduce yourself to your opponent? Theo Vol—Captain of the Black Knights."
A soft, feminine voice replied, laced with a low, cutting undertone.
"Oh… Information you need? Well, it's not like you'll get to know much of anything."
Then, out of the darkness—her face emerged first, pale and sharp-eyed.
"Cineris," she said with a smirk, her voice teasing. "Just Cineris. Politely… for you, Mr. Courtesy Knight."
She chuckled, amused by her own joke—her confidence casual, unshakable.
Theo narrowed his eyes.
"What are you?" he asked, stepping into a Central Plains battle stance, sword poised and body calm.
Cineris tilted her head, eyes gleaming.
"Who am I?" she echoed, her tone mockingly introspective.
Theo didn't respond—his answer was in his stillness, in the subtle tension of his form. Unyielding. Focused. Ready.
"Well… who knows?"
She grinned—wide and wild—then vanished.
Theo blinked—too late.
CLING–THUD!
Her leg crashed into his side, his armor ringing like a bell under the impact. The sheer force launched him back into the darkness.
Cineris exhaled sharply, disappointed.
"Is that all you've got?" she muttered. Her expression soured with a sigh. Then, without hesitation, she sprinted after him, her footfalls soft, rhythmic—almost soothing in the ankle-deep water.
Theo was still airborne, armor catching the faint light. His eyes widened.
"How… how is this possible?" he muttered.
He twisted mid-air, gritting his teeth, and drove his sword into the stone floor—a shriek of grinding metal against rock filled the chamber, sparks flying as he carved a long skid across the slick ground.
Cineris came to a sudden stop, standing where his momentum would carry him past her. She watched, arms folded.
"Really? That's it?" she called out mockingly. "What a waste of a title, 'Captain.'"
She laughed, unbothered, playful—like she was toying with him.
"You…" Theo's boots came to a hard stop, armor dripping, breath heavy.
"Where are my comrades?" His voice was level—too calm. Purposeful. "The Black Knights. Tell me."
Cineris blinked slowly, then tilted her head in mock thought.
"Oh, them? The ones in all that gloomy armor?" Her tone was light, almost amused. "The brooding, growling ones?"
Theo's jaw clenched. His grip on the hilt tightened until his knuckles whitened. He widened his stance—ready, bracing, grounding himself against what he feared might come.
Cineris glanced upward, pretending to think. Then she raised a single arm overhead.
"Those guys?" she mused aloud.
SNAP.
With a casual flick of her fingers—middle to thumb—a sharp metallic sound echoed from somewhere above.
CLINK… CLANG…
A hollow ringing bounced off the high chamber walls, distant at first.
Then—
FWOOOOOSH—
The whistle of air. Fast. Falling.
SPLASH—THUD.
Two heavy objects slammed into the shallow water beside Theo. Spray exploded upward. Metal clattered against stone.
He turned—slowly. His eyes fell on what had landed. Then—
They widened.
Limbless.
Shattered.
Unmoving.
The mangled remains of two Black Knights. Brothers-in-arms. Warriors he had trained with. Bled with.
The world seemed to tilt sideways.
For a moment, Theo didn't breathe. His hands trembled. His mouth opened—but no sound came.
Then, the silence broke—
—with his voice. Low. Cold. Searing.
"You…" he growled with eerie calm, stepping forward, sword trembling in his grasp.
"You'll pay for this."
His words weren't shouted—they were carved.
A vow, cast in steel.
The Iron Creed.