Leonard had never felt the air of the outside world so cold and suffocating before. As the iron-barred doors of the interrogation room creaked open, he stood slowly, the weight of the past hours pressing on him like a chain. The thick, suffocating air of the chamber still clung to his clothes, but the sight of daylight outside—dim and grey, filtered through the mist—was a welcome contrast.
Rogan stood at the door, watching Leonard's every move with that calculating gaze. "You're free to go for now, Mr. Leonard," he said, his voice sharp, yet strangely indifferent.
Leonard didn't trust the words. His body stiffened, but he forced himself to nod, not wanting to give away the dread building within him. His mind screamed for him to run, to escape, but every inch of his being knew he couldn't. The mark, the pendant… they were closing in on him. His only hope now was to survive—to find the answers before they did.
"Get in," Rogan said, gesturing to the carriage waiting outside. Maria Saintword stood beside it, her expression unreadable beneath her polished helmet, her rapier strapped tightly to her side.
Leonard's heart raced as he walked past them, careful to mask his anxiety. The sound of hooves against cobblestone filled the air as the carriage doors slammed shut behind him, sealing his fate.
Inside, he sank into the plush seat, the fine velvet cushions doing little to soothe his discomfort. Rogan and Maria sat across from him, the faint flicker of the carriage lantern casting long shadows on their faces. They said nothing at first—Rogan's eyes occasionally shifting to the carriage window, while Maria's gaze remained fixed on Leonard, seemingly unblinking.
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The carriage lurched into motion, and Leonard let out a quiet, shaky breath.
Finally, it was Maria who spoke, her voice low but sharp. "You still have not answered many of our questions, Mr. Leonard. We know you're hiding something." Her piercing gaze locked onto his. "We're letting you go for now, but don't think for a second that we believe you're innocent."
Leonard stiffened, but Rogan's voice, deep and authoritative, interrupted before he could respond.
"Let him be, Maria. The investigation isn't over. We'll be watching him closely."
Maria nodded once, but there was a sharpness in her demeanor that made Leonard's stomach twist. She leaned back slightly, a hand resting lightly on her revolver, and he could feel the tension in her posture—watching, waiting.
He wanted to speak, to tell them he had nothing to do with any of it, but the words stuck in his throat.
As the carriage rumbled on, the city streets growing more familiar with every turn, Rogan spoke again, his tone softer now. "Leonard, don't think we're letting this go. You're a suspect in something far more dangerous than you realize."
Leonard's pulse quickened at the mention of danger, but before he could ask more, Rogan raised a hand, cutting him off.
"Just get some rest. If you're hiding anything, we'll find it. And when we do, you won't be able to escape."
The carriage continued its journey, the sound of the horses' hooves echoing in the night. Leonard couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. He had been given no freedom, just a false sense of it. He was under their watch now. He couldn't escape—not until he found the truth and discovered why this world, and the Abyss Walker path, had claimed him.
A cold chill crept down his spine as the lanterns outside flickered with their eerie, golden light. The mystery was only deepening, and Leonard felt more trapped than ever.