From the paper’s gossip, I started to imagine the bigger picture of the truth behind this asylum in disguise.

Skade Briston’s murder records amounted to millions for overtaking neighboring countries within the past seven years of ruling. The numbers took a spike after he caused chaos to the big three kingdoms, Muilux, Phelux, and Virintthia. This is roughly ten times higher than the previous kings achieved.

After he sent countries to ruins, the empire forced the civilians to be enslaved through a strict curfew. One either serves the empire with a full pledge of loyalty, or either dies from torture and hunger. Either choice, there would be no salvation, and people still die. This act limited how information was shared throughout the entire empire’s military. Only servants with no ill intentions survived. This is how Emilie became a part of their family.

Emilie was previously a spy, and the documents never mentioned that she still was. She managed to bypass the empire king’s infamous ability, True Sight, which reveals lies from a person’s aura. Emilie may have the ability to manipulate her auras from speculation.

Her resolve burned like an ember, concealed under a façade of obedience. With every step, she wove a tapestry of deceit, earning the trust of the mighty empire king. Her eyes, mirrors reflecting a hidden storm, revealed nothing of her true purpose - to break free from our gilded cage. I would rate her five out of five based on experience.

As we thread through the secured documents, a metamorphosis occurs, and Quimora’s curiosity transforms into a radiant beacon, illuminating her path. The subsequent texts clarified that a meeting of corrupt nobles for Project Schrodinger would occur in the next two weeks. For an hour of browsing text, I could imagine the dark path that we took.

Amidst the eerie silence, the hinges of the room’s door groaned, yielding to the entrance of a man draped in a uniform that bespoke authority. His footsteps echoed through the room, each step punctuated by a sense of anticipation. As his eyes beheld Quimora who stood still before the documents, a myriad of emotions flickered across his face, but his true intentions remained veiled. Yet, moments later, a tempest of fury erupted within him, shattering the façade of composure he had initially maintained.

“GUARDS! THERE’S SOMEONE CRAZY HERE!”

Both Quimora and I synced our rushing pulse as the head of the room spotted us. Quimora’s knees trembled as her thoughts of death flooded my consciousness. I can’t even focus on what I should do. However, this was the first time that my thoughts came through her.

Run.

I don’t know what the trigger was. Escape is what’s important. However, I’ve known Quimora to have a frail body since birth. When she ran, she tripped to the scattered weapon box on the floor. The retainer pulled Quimora’s clothes up and dragged her in the air. No longer, the guards came.

“You scaredy cat…” The retainer scolded with a pale face and trembling body like he’d seen his end. “You’ve trampled in a secure territory… How dare you… You will ruin Skade-sama’s plans! You should be silenced!”

At that moment, curiosity killed the cat. I’ve been called crazy my whole life, but being offended is my first time.

It seems that luck favored the empire. Deep beneath the mansion's storeroom, a hidden path emerged—a tunnel, meticulously dug by an insider, offering an escape route beyond the empire’s borders. An investigation spanning a year culminated in the arrival of Emilie, escorted by the king’s retainer, to the grand throne room, where she faced a solemn jury.

The measure of a foreign spy's prowess lies in the number of souls they hold at bay, their trust elusive, and their intentions shrouded in mystery. In most cases, one’s patience may kill you first before achieving one’s goal. That’s the case for Emilie who sat beside me and the other six servants inside the empire’s dungeon cell.

Her eyes gazed down at the floor. Her gaunt appearance was accompanied by various types of bruises and wounds of different types and sizes. One may proclaim that she’s already dead weight, though the other prisoners, whose age is beyond maturity, are drowned in rage while synchronizing the grits of their teeth.

“Why are we here!? What did we do!? I’m fully loyal to the empire, and I did nothing wrong!”

Stolen novel; please report.

“I believe that this strict wanna-be mentioned our names to save the young ones. She doesn’t have the choice to involve everyone in her ruckus. Quimora was only here because the king said that she was involved.”

“You’re kidding me! We’re going to die without even doing anything!?”

“After all these years, I’m in no position to counter her punishments. I’ve waited long for this,” a servant said as she pulled up Emilie’s face that lacked soul. She raised her palm and swung it with haste, slapping Emilie directly to a bruise on her cheek. The loud slap echoed across the entire dungeon filled with silence.

The torture continued. Quimora's heart resembled a wild drum, its rhythmic thump echoing her inability to bear witness to another soul's torment. The mere thought of inflicting pain painted a canvas of despair within her, leaving her with a fervent desire to shield others from the clutches of suffering.

“Stop! She’s hurt!” Quimora shouted.

“Stop for what? Death’s next door. Our heads and bodies would soon become exhibits and fertilizers.”

“P–Please calm down. I suppose that we will be forgiven since we did nothing wrong.”

“Get mature, kid. You don’t know how the empire works. That woman can never bring back the life that we will lose.”

“I… I…”

Emilie held Quimora’s hand, but rather than dragging her, she was like a butterfly landed on her shoulder. When Quimora gazed at her, Emilie slowly shook her head with her remaining strength. “Tsk!” The other servants stayed away from them.

Quimora sat before Emilie and held her shoulders. “I suppose everything would be alright, Miss Emilie. I’m sorry that I can’t do anything about your wounds as of now.”

“Risk-taking… although it can give us worthy benefits… is a fast track to the grave,” Emilie whispered with a tone that lacked vitality. “I already knew that… this would happen. The Finality’s oracles… already gave me this foreseen outcome… I’m dumb to believe that I can change fate.”

For every word Quimora uttered, the advice passed through Emilie’s ears like her brain was inactive or missing. Quimora’s wrinkling brows of worry didn’t change until the day afterward, their death sentence.

A guillotine stood before the elevated circular platform in the Empire capital’s plaza. A crowd gathered, and the guards circled the platform as thousands of citizens watched the brutal finale of eight people. Our hands were tied and connected with a single leather rope that was never brittle due to magic enhancements.

Before the execution, the king embraced with open arms, "Hear me, citizens and the might of the Briston Empire! Through untold struggles, we have valiantly fought to protect our freedoms and establish a bond of trust among us. But let it be known that those who dare to betray us shall meet their demise!

“For treachery against the empire will not be tolerated. Know this, treacherous souls, your actions have sealed your fate. Remember, loyalty to the empire is paramount, and those who betray us shall face the wrath of our justice."

The guards pulled Emilie towards the guillotine and put her head in an enclosed circular hole. She didn’t have the energy to resist as she mumbled along the way. Due to the crowd’s noise, I didn’t hear a single word she uttered.

“The bright trainer for empire servants, once a spy, always a spy. For twenty-two years serving the empire, no one would expect that this loyal officer would commit espionage. Any last words?” The king asked.

Emilie responded with a gawk as she regained all of her remaining energy amidst the moment. As she started declaring her verdict, the guard accidentally lost hold of the metal blade. “THE BRISTON EMPIRE WILL NOT LAST F–”

The sheer sound of the blade slicing through the ground pulsated Quimora’s heart. Unconsciously, she turned away and sighed heavily. The flood of grief drowned her heart as her uncontrollable tears crawled down her eyes. For the whole time, she closed her eyes and cried, “No… Emilie… EMILIEEEE!!”

She kneeled on the floor, losing all her remaining energy. I heard cries alongside me, the despair of innocent people’s hard-claimed loyalty to the empire that became ashes. I felt that the guards dragged my arms towards the guillotine as they pushed Quimora’s head to the same death spot.

“The next contender, a slave from a forgotten noble who once betrayed the empire by escaping. I’m sure that her parents’ love dispersed by letting her rot inside her hell. What a despicable family! I don’t want any blood-related kid to be born to this self-proclaimed queen candidate. A servant should always respect and follow their master’s orders, and do anything unnecessary! That’s the rule of the nobles. Any last words, my dear wife?”

Quimora opened her eyes, and the terror that can’t be forgotten put a mark on her memory, the bloodly head of the person that once gave her hope. Her squeal echoed towards the end of the audience, resonating with the terror of regret. For the first time in her life, she gritted her teeth and growled,

“DIE!”

Skade smirked, as he gestured with his hand. The smooth traversal of the blade from above stained anticipation in my mind. As the screech grew louder, darkness hungered my life that left the living world. Quimora’s senses halted a split second after the blade went through her neck.

Physical agony was a distant memory, but I endured a different kind of torment—a labyrinth of Quimora’s emotions that overflowed like an unstoppable tide. Her high-EQ mind, a tempestuous sea, battered my resolve with waves of sorrow, anger, and love. Each surge threatened to drown me, but I clung to the remnants of my sanity, resisting the allure of surrender.

And the next thing I knew…