Carefully, he opened the door slightly and peered around it. It was completely white inside, and so bright it was almost impossible to tell the walls from the floor. Safani was nowhere to be seen. Cain adjusted his spectacles and entered the room. The iron door shut behind him.
It was even quieter inside. Not only could he hear his own breathing, he could hear his very pulse when he held his breath.
Behind him, the crude iron door stood as if floating in an infinite expanse of white space. There was something that resembled a door in front of him as well. Approaching it, he found it was not a door but something like the iridescent sheen of a soap bubble. His light touch sent ripples through it.
Putting his shoes back on, he slid three fingers under the left glass of his spectacles to cover the eye. He was adjusting at least one of them to the dark. This room had been so bright, his eyes had trouble adjusting to it, and if the next room was darker, he would be essentially blind for just as long—enough time to decide whether he lived or died. Cain had learned this trick from an old sailor who frequented Lukan’s bar.
Then, holding out his right hand, he stepped through the bubble-like barrier.
Cain had imagined the chamber to be dark. A library of death, with 327 cadavers stacked over one another in their coffins like books.
But the chamber was not dark. It was also hardly a chamber at all. And there were not rows of coffins. Instead, over a vast red wasteland, cocoon-like figures floated in a sky splotched with violet. Cain didn’t need to count them to know what they were. He uncovered his left eye.
Like an audience looking down at a stage from above, the 327 Power generators wrapped in their bandages were leaning toward the earth. Each generator seemed to emit an irregular vibrating sound, slowly adjusting and harmonizing with the others.
Their eyes, though obscured by the wrappings that covered their faces, seemed fixed on a lead coffin that looked out of place here, beside which was the back of a man wearing a black coat like Cain’s.
Cain, stepping as softly as possible, approached Safani’s back. The legionary’s sword in his right hand was uncomfortably heavy. His back and hip hurt, perhaps injured when the carriage overturned. His fingers ached from scaling walls. There were blisters from the fires he had braved, bursting and throbbing with pain. But more than these trivial pains, it was the presence of cadavers above that gripped his heart, made him feel the weight on his chest again.
When the scattered hums became one, it turned into the sound of hundreds of voices whispering at once. Cain froze, feeling something was about to happen, but Safani only gazed upward. As Cain took another careful step ahead, Safani suddenly threw open thelid of the lead coffin. The lid fell upon the red earth and rang like a dull bell. Bright violet fumes unfurled like fern fronds from within.
“Now I can have my revenge.”
This was the first time Cain heard Safani’s voice. Not a high- or low-pitched one, but the voice of an ordinary man, yet soaked in hatred and glee. It sent chills down his spine. He had to stop this man.
The whispers stopped. Three hundred and twenty-seven cadavers, the Circuit of Destiny, turned toward Cain. Through the whispers that rose once more, he heard one distinct proclamation.
“… He is here, the man who would be king…”
Sensing their attention had shifted, Safani also turned. With all his might, Cain raced over the red earth toward him. Something flashed, and a dart cracked one of the lenses of his spectacles. Cain didn’t hesitate but raised his sword as he ran. Safani drew his dagger but Cain was already in the air as he lunged at Safani. A red, hot liquid splashed on Cain’s face. Both of them tumbled to the ground as Cain collided with Safani.
Safani got to his feet first, holding his left shoulder with his right hand. Between his fingers gushed a considerable amount of blood. Cain managed to hold on to his sword, but Safani’s blade was lodged between Cain’s ribs. Blood had splashed on his spectacles and made everything even more red.
Betraying not a hint of pain on his face, Safani kicked at the still-prone Cain, reminding Cain of when he was assaulted by Gladdis’s men. But accepting any blows here meant death. He rolled out of the way, his hand still firmly gripping the sword hilt, his weight pressing the dagger’s blade farther into his side. He bit back a scream. The tip of Safani’s boot grazed Cain’s back. Safani deftly regained his balance and looked down at Cain.
“You’re the boy from earlier tonight. Weaseled out of death to live another day, I see.”
Earlier tonight.Cain couldn’t believe everything that had happened in less than a day. The stout man from the Ministry had said Cain had almost died twice in one night. Counting the carriage, it was three times. Soon, it might be more, if the dagger between his ribs didn’t kill him.
“Do you know what’s going on outside?” said Cain. “There’s been an earthquake. Power generators everywhere are overloading. The Capital is on fire.”
A leer broke through Safani’s still mask of a face. “How droll. A fitting foreshadow of the judgment ahead.”
“What are you about to do?”
“Only what the Empire deserves. Ten cities like this going up in flames wouldn’t be enough for all the lives they’ve destroyed.”
Cain struggled to stand. This was not the time for this conversation. He felt the stare of the cadavers above him. Their whispers, their incomprehensible whispers…
“Don’t get up, or I’ll kill you,” threatened Safani. A slight panic had slipped into his voice. He seemed weaker. This was not the same Safani Cain had confronted in Gladdis’s house.
Cain did not heed his words, instead carefully pushing himself off the ground to stand. Safani’s dagger dug farther into his ribs. He bore it out with a pained groan. Safani, as if in the inverse to Cain’s motion, stumbled then and fell to the ground. The blow Cain had landed to his shoulder must have been more effective than he’d thought.
Cain wiped the blood from his lenses with his sleeve.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to do. Just tell me how I can stop it.”
“Why stop it? Once the Empire falls, the world will rise. All its oppression will fail. Without the support of the Capital, its many legions will disintegrate sooner or later. The majority of legionaries are province-born, after all. There will be rebellions! Don’t you see what this means?” Safani’s careful mask was crumbling. He grimaced, as if speaking caused him pain. “Think about it. Why give up this chance?”
