Silas watched Zinnia’s body twitch violently on the cold prison bed, each jerk sending ripples of tension through her limbs. Sweat poured from her, soaking the thin fabric beneath her.

His poison was doing its work, destroying the heart and unraveling her nerves thread by thread. The slow, painful death designed for those who crossed him was being accelerated—unnaturally. Silas’s brow furrowed, not in concern for her suffering, but because the timing was off.

She shouldn’t be like this yet. He had calculated the dose with precision. Another two, perhaps three days before she’d need the antidote. He blinked once, dismissing the idea of error on his part. His craft was infallible.

''No… something else… something interacted with it.'' His mind raced, considering the possibilities. The poison could react unpredictably when combined with foreign agents. Something she encountered must have sped up the process. Silas's gaze turned clinical, dissecting the scene.

He would need samples. The truth always revealed itself through flesh.

His hand hovered near Zinnia's arm as she convulsed again, her fingers clawing at the air, mouth frothing at the corners. The sight intrigued him, the life inside her fighting desperately against the inevitable.

A voice from outside shattered the room's stillness. "Hey! Mister Ji! Is! She! Going! To! Be! Alright?"

Silas’s eye twitched. He turned his head slightly toward the source but remained silent, focusing instead on his tools. He reached for the syringe, intending to draw blood before moving to the more delicate work. He could already hear the answers he sought in the rhythm of her strained breathing.

"Perhaps," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the idiot outside to hear. "I will do what I can. Her survival is up to her."

''Though if something is interacting with the toxin... the antidote may be useless.''

The voice came again, louder. "I couldn't hear you! But I think it'll be fine! I'll be here if you need me!"

The edge of Silas’s blade hovered near her flesh, but his fingers twitched in annoyance. ''What a nuisance.'' His calm returned like a slow breath through the nose. "An idiot," he muttered softly, his voice no more than a whisper to himself.

Zinnia's convulsions worsened, her body seizing up. Silas gave a slight tilt of his head, watching the spasms.

He would proceed, take the samples he desired, administer the antidote and something to dull the body. But whether she will survive another hour? ''Whatever happens… happens.'' he concluded.

----------------------------------------

Several hours passed, the stillness of evening settling into the prison. Zinnia’s eyelids fluttered as she awoke. Her throat was dry, each breath scraping painfully as she swallowed, her tongue swollen against the roof of her mouth.

She pushed herself up with trembling arms, muscles aching with a soreness that made her body feel foreign. Her chest felt tight, every breath coming in short, strained bursts. The pain pulled her fully from sleep, shaking off the last remnants of unconsciousness.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus. Her back throbbed as if someone had slammed her into a wall, the soreness radiating through her spine. Her gaze drifted around the room.

It was stark, with bare walls and a cold floor. Nothing to give away where she was, save for the bars in the corner and the stillness of the cell. Then her eyes landed on Silas.

He stood with his back to her, a long glass tube in his hand, liquid swirling within it. The bottom of the mixture was black, the middle yellow, and at the top, a paper-thin layer of blue shimmered. He extracted only the blue part with a pipette, his focus unwavering as he worked.

“You’re alive,” he said without turning around. “Congratulations.”

Zinnia’s head swam, everything foggy, but her irritation bubbled to the surface. Her hands fumbled as she weakly flipped him off, though he didn’t notice. Her tongue felt heavy, and she struggled to speak. “Your imsumrence neawrly killed mee mid infiftration,” she slurred, her words barely coherent. Her mouth felt wrong, and as she ran her tongue along her teeth, she realized why. Her front teeth were missing.

Silas continued his work without so much as a glance. “You bit my hand while I was taking a sample of your saliva,” he said. “An unexpected side effect of your situation. It made your teeth brittle.”

''Bullshit,'' she thought, then hesitated. ''Or maybe not… fuck.''

Zinnia groaned, the pain in her body making it difficult to think straight, but she needed answers. “Why didth you do thhis?” she managed, her voice unsteady.

Silas finally turned to her, shrugging as though the matter were of no consequence. He shook the pipette slightly, showing her the blue liquid. “Not me,” he said. “This. You inhaled this substance. Whatever it is, it produced a rather violent reaction with my toxin, triggering the final stages ahead of schedule.”

A shiver ran through her as she processed his words. The toxin.

''Wait… if he took it out of me, then maybe…'''. A spark of hope ignited in her mind, but it was quickly snuffed out as Silas interrupted her thoughts.

“I’ve not removed it,” he said, turning back to his instruments. “I merely gave you a dose of the antidote and extracted what caused the interference. Whether you lived or not, was a matter of luck. Again, congratulations.”

Her lips curled into a weak sneer, but she stuck her tongue out at him. Silas, however, spoke with a flat expression, “I’m not insulting you. Luck is a far better ally to have than an enemy.”

Zinnia managed a mocking half-smile. “Ghee~ The Goddess smiledh upon meh.”

Silas’s face darkened, and his smile dropped. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

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She winced as she adjusted her position, her mind racing despite the fatigue clouding her thoughts. She began to tell him what had happened before she ended up needing his help—how she had planned to deal with Henkel, how things had gone wrong. She explained the strange shapes he drew, the ones he burned. She had barely finished when Silas tilted his head slightly, considering her words.

“Useful information,” he said finally. “Do use more caution next time. Especially when breaking and entering.”

Before she could respond, he tossed a small red pill toward her. “For your teeth.”

Zinnia caught it and swallowed it dry, hoping for relief, but she felt nothing. She stared at Silas in confusion.

“That was your new poison,” he said nonchalantly.

Zinnia clenched her fists, anger surging through her as she glared at him. “Whath the fuck ith wrong with you?” she growled, her words still mangled by the missing teeth.

Silas raised a brow, amused by her frustration. “I thought we’d moved past this. Do you always take something without questioning what it is?”

She tried to move, to rise from the bed, but her body refused to respond. Her muscles were too weak, every limb feeling like it was weighed down with iron. ''What did I do to deserve this asshole?'' she wondered, but then flashes of her past came to mind—faces of those she’d stolen from, deceived, manipulated, left to die. ''Well, except for those things...''

With a heavy sigh, she gave up trying to move. “More cauthion?” she muttered, her exhaustion creeping into her words. “Canh you preparre fo everything?”

Silas didn’t even look at her. “I can’t. Fool’s errand, really,” he said, matter-of-fact. “But telling someone to be more careful after nearly dying causes a satisfying amount of irritation.”

Zinnia rolled her eyes. “Are youh a childh?”

Silas chuckled softly. “No. I simply lack the need to pretend I don't find something amusing… well amusing.”

He turned and, with a single motion, dripped the blue liquid from the pipette onto into his mouth.

Zinnia’s eyes widened in alarm. “Whath the—”

----------------------------------------

Nyx hung upside down from a clothesline, his talons digging into the damp fabric of a dirty sheet. He let out a deep, rumbling burp that reverberated through his small, shadowy form.

''Just because you live in a slum doesn’t mean you have to half-ass washing sheets. You just end up with them smelling full ass,'' he grumbled to himself.

The last few hours had been spent capturing unfortunate souls who wandered into quiet corners of the slums. Each one had given him a different surprise, leaving him questioning the very nature of these slum dwellers. ''What are those things made out of?'' he thought, his beady eyes narrowing in frustration. ''Don’t taste like meat, that’s for sure.''

His mind drifted back to his second encounter—a decrepit reeking beggar woman. He’d expected nothing more than stringy old bones, but the moment he consumed her, something massive stirred inside her.

It looked like a Vestial Bear, of all things.

Then there was the muscled laborer—Nyx had almost spat him out when he turned into some grotesque version of a Red Starfish.

And the ‘blind’ brat? That one had been the worst yet, morphing into a lizard covered in eyes. ''None of it makes sense. What are these freaks?'' Nyx’s stomach gave an uncomfortable twist, another burp forcing its way up.

''Ugh, that is not going to come out right.'' He shifted his talons, his irritation growing. ''Fucking exotic food. Gonna need something for indigestion.''

But something more troubling had caught his attention. The slum dwellers had become jumpy, their once mindless routine now interrupted by an air of unease. They didn’t know exactly what was happening, but their instincts told them something was very wrong. Nyx could see it in the way they moved, the darting glances, the hurried steps. ''They don’t know I’ve been hunting, but they can feel hunted.''

Just as he was about to take flight and find another target, a commotion stirred nearby. Raised voices, the shuffle of hurried feet. His sharp hearing perked up, curiosity pulling him toward the source. ''Hmm? Let’s see what’s happening.''

With a single flap of his wings, he was off.

----------------------------------------

Zinnia stared in utter disbelief, her eyes wide as Silas swirled the blue liquid in his mouth, his expression calm and unbothered. He swished it around thoughtfully before swallowing with a quiet gulp. "Tastes like an old leather shoe. Weak acid. Energy profile homogenous. Not Alchemic."

Her mouth hung open, more from shock than anything else. She could barely process what she had just witnessed. Silas raised an eyebrow at her, seemingly amused by her dumbfounded expression.

"How did you think alchemical discovery happens?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of condescension.

Zinnia, still missing her front teeth, managed to mutter through her swollen lips, “Somethin’ cleanher! Groshh! Did you just eath wath you 'shampled' from meh?”

Silas crossed his arms, his tone as dry as ever. “That would be idiotic. I first extracted and refined the common factor affecting my toxin within your flesh and flui—”

"Shat uph!" Zinnia interrupted, spitting out her words in frustration. "Justh tell meh what it was."

Silas ignored her outburst, continuing as though she hadn’t spoken. “—ds. After which, I used a very basic method of separation, concentrating the substances I knew until their weight increased to the point where they were heavier than the targeted unknown factor. The natural discrepancy in density allowed for a perfectly clear separation, which I could then just scoop up.”

Zinnia rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion, groaning at the lecture. Silas, seemingly oblivious to her reaction, continued to explain with a clinical tone. “Whatever it is, it’s traveling quickly into my bloodstream and attempting to diffuse into my nerves and meridians. The small amounts that have made their way are heading toward my brain.”

As he spoke, Zinnia noticed something faintly glowing beneath his robes, near the hem of his pants underneath. She squinted, unsure of what she was seeing.

Silas paused, his voice quieter as if speaking more to himself than to her. “This isn’t the product of mixing ingredients and energy together. It induces a lucid, sleep-like state, making one susceptible to suggestion.”

Zinnia opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but before she could form the words, Silas flicked a pill into her mouth with alarming precision. She gagged slightly but swallowed reflexively. Almost instantly, her teeth regrew, although her fangs elongated a lot more than her previous set, the familiar sensation of her mouth returning to normal washed over her.

She blinked in surprise, running her tongue over her newly restored teeth. After a long moment of silence, she muttered grudgingly, “Thank you.”

Silas didn’t acknowledge her gratitude, already moving on. “Deal with your hero outside, then return to the inn and draw the symbols you saw.”

Zinnia blinked, confusion clouding her thoughts. “The shirtless guy?” she asked, recalling the young man who had brought her in. ''What the fuck is he waiting for? Actually, why the fuck did he help me in the first place?''

Silas’s gaze sharpened as he turned toward her. “Where is the tin I gave you?”

Zinnia patted her pockets, suddenly realizing the tin was missing. She searched frantically before blurting out, “Uhhh... I don’t know?”

Silas’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as the air in the cell grew colder. His voice dropped to a dangerously soft tone. “If those things catch a spark and cause an unwarranted incident for no reason… I will flay you alive. Thrice.”

Zinnia’s stomach sank as she scrambled to her feet, muttering under her breath as she prepared to confront the shirtless idiot outside.

----------------------------------------

A gloved hand placed a tophat gently onto the desk, the motion smooth. The figure in the tailored coat spoke, their voice deep yet inviting. "I’d like to rent a room, if one is available."

The staff member behind the counter smiled warmly. "Of course! For how many nights?"

"Just the one will suffice." The figure reached into their coat and pulled out a small tin, placing it on the desk with a soft clink. "I happened upon this in your establishment. Perhaps another guest misplaced it?"

The staff member glanced at the tin, then nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, I see. We’ll leave it here overnight. If no one claims it by tomorrow, we’ll discard it."

The figure chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in their tone. "If I’ve returned something important, do let them know where to find me. Perhaps it’s the beginning of a fateful meeting, no?"

The staff member chuckled in return. "Of course, esteemed guest. Welcome to the Siren's Rest Inn"