As Zirel thumbed his Soul Card, he once again found himself confronted with the distinct unfamiliarity he had felt earlier, a dissonance between his mind and body that left him increasingly unsettled.
What was happening to him?
A festering itch tickled the back of his mind, a distinct sense of wrongness that permeated his very soul— yet despite repeated attempts to grasp at its nature, he kept circling back to the same answer: nothing was wrong.
Only when he was on the verge of giving up his line of inquiry did his gaze catch something odd. A thin line of cloth circling around his neck.
How had he not caught onto that earlier?
Tracing its path, he reached out for the rectangular card-holder, its surface painted over in a bright red.
[You have failed to clear the trial of Maya, the infinite web of illusions. You have fallen into a state of temporary Zhan.
Sub-Skill: Homebound has been activated].
Tom let out a scream as the thick smog of false memories that had been smothering his own sense of identity were blown back by a now-glowing identification card.
In the next instant, the false world created by Maya shattered.
----------------------------------------
Back in the real world, Tom instinctively broke his gaze free from Zirel’s as his heart hammered in his chest.
It was only his high Mental Stat that kept his thoughts from falling into complete disarray. With every passing moment, his expression paled a little further.
The rogue dungeoneer they had followed down into the Dungeon Sector, the man that he had known as Riven Blackheart had turned out to be a prince, of all the things he could have been. A bona-fide prince, fourth in line to the throne of the Syrelore Kingdom.
And next to him was Aleph Longstradia, a fallen Noble from the House of Longstradia— a powerful ally that was bristling with pure, nigh unrestrained hatred for the Noble Families of the Syrelore Kingdom, let alone a prince.
The worst case scenario might just have occurred.
“Slowly step out from behind that entrance. And keep your hands where I can see them, otherwise I will treat you like a threat,” Zirel’s cold, menacing tone did little to assuage the rumors associated with Riven Blackguard’s persona. Rumors that Tom was very much inclined to believe, had it not been for [Active Shroud- Maya] shedding light on the truth.
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His gaze shifted to Aleph, who seemed primed to burst into action at a moment’s notice.
"I'm stepping out," Tom called out in response, much to Aleph's visible surprise. The whirlwind of chaotic, conflicting thoughts came to a still, for he had decided on a course of action.
‘Trust me,’ he whispered to her, gesturing for her to stay put where she was.
Their eyes met and Tom could see the confusion in Aleph's gaze, the uncertainty that swirled within.
Had his body language given away the shock he had felt at learning Riven's true identity? Or was Aleph just taken aback by his seemingly rash decision, to comply with the demands of the quarry they had come to hunt.
Then, she simply offered him a brisk nod.
Regardless of his intentions, keeping Aleph's presence hidden from Zirel made tactical sense.
The eerie silence that had befallen over the Dungeon Sector was interrupted by a sequence of calm, unhurried footsteps as Tom stepped into the crucible.
He did as instructed, his Card Gauntlet held unimposingly at his side.
“Do you know who I am?” Zirel’s words echoed out with gravitas, his tone betraying an unmistakable sense of authority. As if the question need only be asked and the world itself would conspire to present him with an answer.
“It would make little sense to deny it now,” Tom replied with a nonchalant shrug, determined not to show the slightest hint of weakness.
And indeed, he was no longer afraid of Zirel’s abilities— not after understanding their potency first hand. Defeating him would be a challenging task, even with Aleph’s support— he hadn’t truly taken any memories from the Prince and didn’t know the extent of his contingencies.
But at the very least, Tom was confident in getting away largely unscathed.
“And yet you show yourself before me, unarmed. Are you not afraid?” Zirel asked, as his piercing gaze scrutinized his features.
Tom didn’t hesitate to meet Zirel’s gaze, because he knew that the [Eye of the Spectre] could only trigger if he exhibited malice towards its wielder.
“It’s because you have no reason to attack me.”
“Oh?”
“If you sensed any malice from me, you would have already attacked,” Tom boldly stated.
“Who are you?” Zirel’s expression hardened as he shifted his [Blade of Necrosis] to a reverse grip; his body language tensing as he primed himself to burst into motion at the drop of a hat.
“Not an enemy, for one. And I can prove it,” Tom confidently declared, even though inwardly he was feeling anything but confident.
A few moments passed in tense silence and as the calm stretched on, Tom couldn’t help but second guess his understanding of Zirel. Sure, the Prince hadn’t detected any malice from him, but that didn’t actually preclude him from attacking Tom.
“Are you aware of…,” Zirel trailed off, not quite willing to give away any more information in case Tom knew far less than he gave the impression to.
“I know who you really are, yes. And I know that you hate your family,” Tom’s words caused Zirel to visibly flinch, but he continued to press on. He had to press on— this was the only window he had to try and broker peace between two seemingly diametrically opposed parties.
There was no hesitating now.
“Aleph Longstradia of the Fallen House of Longstradia,” Tom bellowed at the top of his lungs, speaking so quickly that his tone sounded almost comical, “May I introduce to you a potential ally, the outcast of the Nottrakon Family, Fourth Heir to the Syrelore Kingdom and killer of his own family’s Elite Guard—- Zirel Coven Nottrakon.”
An ear-piercing "WHAT!?" was the response that followed.