The moment her face was exposed, the man’s expression shifted. His smug grin faltered, his confidence draining as his eyes widened slightly.
‘Disgust.’
Aeliana recognized it immediately. It was the same look she had seen countless times before—the quick flicker of revulsion, the way his gaze darted to the marred skin on her face, the blackened lines and cracks that betrayed the sickness within her.
It was always the same. No matter how tough or confident they were, the moment they saw her, they recoiled.
She saw his lips curl back faintly, his earlier arrogance replaced with something he couldn’t fully conceal. A grimace. A slight step back.
‘There it is,’ she thought bitterly, her heart pounding in her chest. ‘That look. The one they all give me. They can’t even hide it.’
Her breath hitched, the familiar wave of loathing surging through her chest like fire.
‘I should be used to it by now. Shouldn’t I? But it still feels the same—like they’ve carved me open and laughed at what they found inside.’
Her fingers twitched at her sides as her gaze locked onto the man’s face. The disgust etched into his expression felt like a blow, sharp and unrelenting.
‘You think I don’t see it? The way you’re looking at me? As if I’m not human. As if I’m just… a monster.’
Her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms so hard it hurt.
The wiry man recovered quickly, masking his reaction with a sneer. He leaned closer, his tone cruel and mocking. “So that’s what you’re hiding, huh? No wonder you cover it up. You’re even uglier than I imagined.”
Aeliana’s chest tightened, the words slicing through her like a blade.
The taller man chuckled uneasily, though his earlier confidence seemed to have dimmed. “Damn, she’s got a face even a mother couldn’t love.” He smirked, though his gaze avoided her entirely.
The tension in the air shifted, the humiliation threatening to choke her. But beneath the shame, something else stirred—something dark and sharp, simmering like molten iron in her chest.
Aeliana raised her head, her trembling hands falling to her sides. Her breath came in uneven gasps, but her voice, when she spoke, was steady and cold as steel.
“Done gawking?” she asked, her tone icy enough to cut through their mockery.
“Heh…I am done gawking indeed…..But still…”
The wiry man’s gaze traveled over her, his expression shifting again. Though the disgust remained etched into his features, something darker flickered beneath it—desire. Aeliana saw the way his eyes roamed, lingering in places that made her skin crawl.
“Heh,” he chuckled softly, a sound dripping with malice. “I gotta admit, even though you’re ugly, at least the figure’s not bad, huh?”
The taller man snorted, glancing at Aeliana with a similar, unsettling look. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. She’s got something going for her, doesn’t she?”
Aeliana’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening as the weight of their words sank in. Her mind raced, and a cold fear began to creep into her chest, wrapping itself around her like a vice.
‘They… they can’t mean…’
But the darkness in their eyes left no room for doubt. She had seen that look before—had felt its weight in the stares of those who thought her illness made her weak, powerless, an easy target.
The wiry man stepped closer, his hand moving downward with sickening intent. Instinct took over, and Aeliana slapped his hand away with a sharp, audible crack.
“Don’t come closer,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute.
The man recoiled slightly, his lips twisting into a sneer. “Now you’re scared? Heh… bitch,” he spat, his tone venomous.
He advanced again, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey.
Her heart thundered in her chest as her back pressed against the jagged wall behind her. She couldn’t escape the rising panic.
‘Why? Why are they doing this? Shouldn’t they be looking for a way out? Searching for a way to survive this place?’
Her voice rose, desperate to appeal to reason. “Why are you wasting time? Shouldn’t you be trying to leave? Isn’t that better than… this?”
The taller man laughed darkly, shaking his head. “Leave?” he echoed, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “You think we can leave this place alive? That thing above us? The monster that dragged us down here? There’s no way anyone’s making it out of here.”
The wiry man’s sneer deepened, his hand flexing as he took another step forward. “So, what’s the point of running around? Might as well enjoy what’s in front of us while we can. Ain’t that right?”
The words sent a chill down Aeliana’s spine, her fear bubbling into outright terror. They weren’t just abandoning hope—they were embracing the darkness that came with their despair.
The wiry man lunged toward her again, his hand reaching out. Aeliana slapped it away once more, her voice cracking as she shouted, “Don’t touch me!”
Her outburst echoed in the cavern, drawing the attention of a few other survivors who looked toward them, but none stepped forward to intervene. The air was heavy with apathy and fear, the survivors too consumed with their own struggles to care.
The wiry man’s sneer twisted into anger, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You think you’ve got the right to tell me what to do?” he hissed.
Aeliana’s chest heaved, her trembling hands balling into fists at her sides. She forced herself to meet his gaze, her fear warring with the spark of defiance that refused to die.
The spark of defiance within Aeliana flickered, but before it could grow, a sharp, searing pain erupted in her stomach. Her body jolted violently, the force of the blow sending her crashing into the jagged wall behind her.
Her back hit the rough surface with a sickening thud, knocking the air from her lungs. Pain radiated through her chest and abdomen, and for a moment, her vision blurred. Her trembling fingers instinctively clutched at her stomach, the realization of what had happened dawning on her.
The wiry man smirked, his arm still extended from the strike. He had shoved her with ease, his strength far beyond what her frail body could endure. Aeliana slid down the wall, her legs giving out beneath her, until she was crumpled on the ground.
She gasped for air, but her chest burned, the corruption within her flaring to life. The familiar agony clawed at her insides, the illness making every breath a struggle.
‘Why… why can’t I do anything?’
Her thoughts spiraled as tears welled in her eyes.
‘I hate this. I hate my weakness. I hate this world. I hate—everything.’
The wiry man stepped closer, his shadow falling over her crumpled form. The taller man followed, his expression one of smug amusement.
“Lost your will to fight?” the wiry man sneered, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. “Man, that was boring. I was hoping for more of a struggle.”
Aeliana’s heart pounded as she tried to push herself up, but her body refused to cooperate. The pain in her stomach and the burning of her illness pinned her down.
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“Look at her,” the taller man chuckled, shaking his head. “Pathetic. Guess we’ll have to make our own fun, huh?”
The wiry man reached for his belt, the sound of it loosening cutting through the cavern like a sinister drumbeat.
Aeliana’s breaths came in shallow gasps, her eyes wide with fear and hatred.
‘Does it even matter?’ she thought bitterly, the weight of despair crushing her resolve. ‘It’s all over anyway.’
Her vision swam, but the sight of their looming shadows was sharp and cruel.
‘This wretched world,’ she thought darkly, her tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘I hope it all gets destroyed.’
She barely flinched when the wiry man grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head upward. The pain was sharp and immediate, but her body was too weak to fight back.
“Oh… what do we have here?”
The voice was playful, almost mocking, yet it carried a weight that cut through the oppressive air of the cavern.
The adventurers froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the voice. Aeliana, through her haze of pain, turned her gaze as well.
There he was.
A man with black hair, black eyes, and a scar running across his right eye. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but the smirk on his lips carried an edge of danger.
It was a face she had seen once before, through the magical device she had used to observe the battlefield.
‘Luca,’ her mind supplied, recognition dawning even through her agony.
“Who are you?” the wiry man barked, straightening abruptly and letting go of Aeliana’s hair.
The newcomer tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Who am I?” he repeated, his tone light and teasing. “Hmm… just someone passing through. But you can call me your death.”
The taller man’s hand moved to his weapon, his earlier smugness replaced with wariness. “Listen, we don’t want trouble,” he said cautiously.
“Oh, I think you do,” Luca replied, his tone still playful but with a chilling undercurrent. His black eyes flicked to Aeliana, taking in her crumpled form and the fear etched into her features. His smirk faltered slightly, his gaze darkening.
“You know,” he said, stepping closer with deliberate slowness, “I really hate guys like you. The ones who think they can stomp on people just because they’re down.”
The wiry man growled, drawing his dagger. “Stay back!”
But Luca only chuckled, his hand moving to the hilt of the blade at his side. “You think that little toothpick’s gonna save you?”
His voice dropped, cold and sharp. “Let’s find out.”
From where she lay, Aeliana watched the scene unfold, her mind swirling with disbelief and confusion.
‘Why is he here?’
Yet, she couldn’t answer at all.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
As she didn’t feel the strength to move after all….