Chapter 85: His Immaculate Cage

Celestine’s voice fell over the silence of the dungeon. “The penalty for that… is that you never leave.”

’Shit.’

[THREAT ANALYSIS: INITIATED]

[ENEMIES: 4 ELITE CLERICS + 1 BISHOP (RANK UNKNOWN)]

Raziel turned, ready to explode into motion.

Four figures emerged from the shadows of the stairs.

Sisters of the Sanatorium.

Their faces were masks of expressionless porcelain.

They raised their white wooden staffs, while the blue crystals at the tip hummed.

VMMMM…

The atmospheric pressure multiplied, it was as if the air had turned into cement.

A high-level Restrictive Gravitation spell.

Any normal novice would have fallen to their knees, vomiting.

But Raziel wasn’t normal.

’Move, damn it!’ he roared in his mind.

CRACK!

Raziel forced his right leg to take a step, ignoring how his own femur protested under the magical pressure.

The Sisters blinked, breaking their perfect sync for a split second.

They didn’t expect the prey to still be standing.

“You think this is enough?!”

He launched himself toward the gap between two of the clerics.

“Hold him!” ordered one of the Sisters, losing her composure.

One of them tried to grab him by the shoulder.

Raziel used his inertia, twisted his body, grabbed the nun’s wrist and used a dislocation technique.

CRUNCH!

“AAH!”

The Sister screamed and dropped the staff, the gravity field wavered.

’NOW!’

Raziel kicked the fallen staff toward the other cleric, making her trip, and threw himself toward the stairs.

His body screamed at him to stop, to give up.

He was ten feet from freedom.

Six feet.

He saw the exit.

Then, the world turned white.

BOOOOM!

It was as if the hand of an invisible giant crushed him against the ground.

Raziel was slammed against the stone with so much violence that the air left his lungs.

[ALERT: CRITICAL TORSO DAMAGE]

[RIBS: FRACTURED]

[STATUS: DIVINE SUPPRESSION (RANK A)]

He tried to get up and his fingers scratched the stone, breaking his nails, leaving trails of blood.

“Pathetic,” Celestine’s voice didn’t sound far away anymore.

She was right on top of him.

Raziel turned his head, shaking from the effort of simply moving his neck under that pressure.

Celestine didn’t even look at the Sisters that Raziel had managed to trick.

“You resist,” she said, with an almost scientific curiosity. “You broke the encirclement of four Level 3 Exorcists with that weak body.”

Raziel spat blood on the floor. “Fuck you.”

Celestine smiled.

She raised a hand, with a finger pointing down.

“Kneel.”

CRASH!

The pressure doubled instantly, it was as if the entire roof had fallen on top of him.

Raziel’s forehead bounced against the stone.

He felt the wet crunch in his nose.

Hot blood filled his throat, choking him.

[ALERT: MILD CRANIAL STRUCTURAL DAMAGE]

“Agh…!”

The Sisters threw themselves on him and they were furious.

They had looked like useless fools in front of a superior.

A boot impacted his side, another stepped on his right hand until the knuckles popped.

CLINK!

They took out the Sacred silver chains.

“Quiet, heretic!” shouted one of them, twisting his arm at an unnatural angle.

Raziel threw bites at the air, blind with pain and rage.

His 15-year-old body reacted out of pure survival instinct, kicking and twisting like a cornered animal.

Celestine walked slowly toward him.

She crouched down, not caring that Raziel’s blood could stain her robe.

“Seraphina was right in her report,” she murmured, bringing her face close to his. “There is a monster inside you, Raziel, a darkness that doesn’t belong to a boy your age.”

She reached out her hand.

Raziel tried to bite her but Celestine didn’t flinch.

She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back with surprising strength.

Then, she softened her grip, she started to pet him.

A slow caress, Maternal and disgusting.

“Shhh…” she whispered with a smile. “Don’t worry. In Ward 4 we are experts at taming beasts, we will take that rebellion out of you, even if we have to rip it out piece by piece.”

’They aren’t going to lock me up, not now!’

[INITIATING DEFENSE PROTOCOL…]

[ERROR]

[DIVINE INTERFERENCE DETECTED]

His vision filled with static. The blue menu that had always been his lifeline blinked and turned a dead gray.

He tried to force the [Echo Absorption]. He tried to look for an exit, a something.

Nothing.

[STATUS: TOTAL SPIRITUAL BLOCK]

[ESTIMATED DURATION: INDEFINITE]

“Take him to Isolation Cell 4,” ordered Celestine, standing up and cleaning an invisible speck of dust from her robe. “And sedate him because if he wakes up before we arrive, he is capable of biting his tongue to commit suicide.”

The Sisters lifted him up.

Raziel couldn’t move anymore, but his eyes, injected with blood, remained fixed on Celestine.

While they dragged him toward the darkness of the corridor, Raziel’s last vision was the Oracle, looking at him with horror.

They took him through the corridors of the sanatorium.

The facade of peace and healing now felt like a grotesque mockery.

Every image of the Saint and every symbol of Zhalyr, seemed to watch him with accusing eyes.

Finally, they arrived at a heavy metal door, identical to the others, but with an additional bolt on the outside.

One of the Sisters opened it and they threw him inside without any ceremony.

CLANG.

The paralysis started to fade slowly, leaving his limbs trembling.

He leaned on the wall, breathing with difficulty.

His visual interface blinked, showing a new notification that confirmed his worst nightmare.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[NEW STATUS ACQUIRED: COVERT PRISONER]

[STATUS FACADE: PSYCHIATRIC PATIENT]

[ALL ACTIVE SKILLS ARE RESTRICTED BY ENVIRONMENTAL SEAL]

[WARNING: SOUL CORRUPTION CONTINUES ADVANCING]

’They locked me up.’

The room was impeccable.

There was a bed with clean sheets, a small table with a jar of water and a bowl of warm stew.

It even had a window, a high and narrow opening that looked to the outside.

He crawled to it, desperate to see the sky, to have a connection with the outside world.

But the glass was thick and there was no handle or latch.

He let himself fall onto the bed with his aching body.

They had stripped him of his identity, turning him into a madman in the eyes of this cult.

Lara and Lucian wouldn’t know where he was.

They would think that he had disappeared, or worse, that he had gone truly crazy.

His gaze scanned the white walls, looking for any imperfection, any weakness and then, he saw it.

Near the floor, in the shadow of the bed, where a superficial inspection wouldn’t find it.

A series of fine scratches, almost invisible, engraved in the paint.

He knelt, squinting his eyes to read the trembling words, scratched with what could only be fingernails.

“Day 847. I don’t remember my name anymore. I don’t remember my Gift anymore. They took everything.”

“If you read this, run before you forget why you want to do it.”

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