"Oh it seems like your serpent friend is back already..." Discordia remarked offhandedly while Leo held his head to fend off the headache this goddess was giving him. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel[f]ire.net
"How long has it been? Didn't he only leave like 5 minutes ago or so?" he couldn't help but ask. The question however made Discordia giggle slightly.
"Time has no meaning here. 5 minutes for you can be hours for some, days for others and for the unlucky few, years."
Leo grimaced and lowered his hand, staring at her as though trying to judge whether she was serious or simply playing with him again. The slight curl of her lips made it hard to tell.
"That sounds like the kind of thing you should have mentioned before throwing us in here," he muttered.
Discordia tilted her head, her faint smile hinting at her amusement. "And ruin the surprise? Where would the fun be in that?"
His jaw tightened, but before he could argue, the air shifted. A subtle ripple passed through the ground beneath their feet, like a wave moving across a lake. Leo felt his chest tighten as something familiar brushed against the edges of his awareness.
He looked toward the archway just as a silhouette formed from the shadows, tall and silent. Adam stepped into the light, his expression unreadable. His serpent-like presence coiled in the air around him, heavy and suffocating, and Leo realized he had changed again.
"Back already?" Discordia asked, her voice lilting like a child with a secret. "Tell me, child, how long were you gone?"
Adam did not answer. He simply looked between her and Leo, his amber eyes carrying the weight of something that made Leo's stomach drop.
"Discordia. I need your help."
Her smile deepened at his words, though her eyes sharpened with interest. It was rare for Adam to speak plainly, rarer still for him to ask for anything.
"My help?" she repeated, the syllables dripping with amusement. "How strange. You of all people, coming to me with need. What has the Arachnid whispered into your ear this time?"
Adam's gaze did not waver. The coiling pressure around him seemed to thicken, an invisible weight pressing on the room. "I do not have time for your games."
For a moment, Discordia only watched him, her head tilting slightly as though she were testing the limits of his patience. Then, with a snap of her fingers, the space around them stilled. The ripple of power, the endless shifting of the chamber, even the oppressive headache pounding behind Leo's eyes became muted.
"Very well," she said at last. "But understand this, child. Every favor has a price, and mine are never cheap."
Leo swallowed, his unease twisting into something sharper. He had seen Adam angry, he had seen him cold, but there was something different now. A quiet desperation in the way his shoulders locked and his fists clenched.
"What do you want?" Adam asked, his voice low, controlled, yet shaking at the edges.
Discordia's smile grew slow and deliberate. "First, tell me what you lost."
"I want to break Arachne out of the Hall of Judgement."
Discordia leaned back, her expression sharpening into something more calculating. "She will naturally be released and return to you in due time. Yet you refuse to wait. That alone tells me there is more to this. So tell me, child… what truth are you chasing?"
Adam's jaw tightened. For the first time since stepping into the chamber, he hesitated. His gaze flicked toward Leo, lingering just long enough for the weight of it to settle heavy in the air.
Leo's brows knit in confusion, his chest tightening as though bracing for a blow he could not see.
When Adam finally spoke, his voice was even, but there was a rawness beneath the surface. "The other Arachne I encountered… she claimed to be my mother."
The words hung in the chamber like a death knell.
Leo's eyes widened, his breath catching as if the very idea had robbed him of air. "What…?" The disbelief in his voice cracked through the silence, but he could find no more words to follow.
Discordia, however, did not laugh. Her faint smile slipped, replaced by the slightest downturn of her lips, a shadow of a frown.
"I would not have expected her to reveal that," she said, her tone carrying more weight than before. "The Spider Queen does not part with truths lightly. For her to speak those words to you means the thread binding you runs deeper than most."
Her head tilted slightly, as though listening to something only she could hear. "You should understand this. All who show a high affinity toward the game are never without ties. Each of you carries a connection to divinity, though its form is different for every soul. Some of us are aware of these ties. Others remain ignorant, even of their own chosen."
Leo's breath caught, his thoughts racing. "So… you're saying all of us—"
"—are bound," Discordia finished smoothly. "Some to gods of flame, some to gods of shadow, some to gods long forgotten. You may think yourselves players, but you were marked long before you ever stepped into this world."
Her smile returned, sharper now. "And that, child, is why I am curious what you intend to do with the knowledge she has given you."
Adam's shoulders shifted, the weight of his presence pressing heavier into the chamber. His voice came low, steadier than the storm twisting inside him. "My mother was the one family member I regretted losing most. If Arachne truly is her, if there is even a chance… then I will do anything for her."
The quiet declaration struck harder than any shout.
Leo's chair scraped against the floor as he stood abruptly, his eyes fixed on Adam with a sharpness that cut through the oppressive air. "Whatever you're thinking of doing," he said firmly, "don't."
For an instant, Adam's expression twisted. His composure cracked, anger flashing raw across his face. The serpentine pressure around him surged, rattling the air as if he might strike at Leo for daring to stand against him.
But then Leo smiled. It was faint, yet unshaken. "I'm not saying don't do it. I'm saying I'm not letting you do it alone. If you're going after her, we're going together."
The storm in Adam's presence faltered, not gone but tempered, as if Leo's words had cut through it.