Despite being crucified, Arachne was still breathing, albeit faintly. Each rise and fall of her chest was shallow, strained against the nails that held her in place. The sound of her breath was little more than a rasp, yet it was enough to confirm she clung to life.
Adam gritted his teeth, his jaw tight enough to ache. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms as his body trembled. He had expected torment, had braced himself for cruelty, but the sight before him clawed deeper than he could have prepared for.
"Arachne," he whispered again, the name tasting like ash on his tongue.
Her head tilted weakly, dark strands of hair falling away to reveal her half-lidded eyes. They shifted, sluggish but deliberate, until they landed on him. For a fleeting moment, her cracked lips curled upward, the barest shadow of a smile. Then her body shuddered as one of the black nails pulsed, drawing more ichor from her wounds. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by novelꞁire.net
Aria’s voice trembled when she finally spoke. "This... this is beyond cruelty. This is torture! But Why?!"
For a moment the only answer was the rasp of Arachne’s breath, shallow and broken. Her body quivered against the nails, each tremor sending fresh rivulets of ichor sliding down her limbs. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the agony forced upon her.
Then, with a suddenness that startled them all, her head jerked back. Her eyes, dulled though they were, flared with raw defiance. A guttural sound built in her throat, a growl that rose past the blood and the pain, forcing its way into words.
"Your illusions are getting sloppy!" she roared, her voice cracking but thunderous all the same. The sound echoed through the chamber, rattling the cages and making the ichor pools shiver. "Showing me hallucinations of the children being here is just too unrealistic, asshole!" Her chest heaved, every syllable tearing through her lungs as the nails sank deeper. Still she screamed louder, spitting blood and defiance. "I can endure until my punishment is over. Then you will not hold me any longer!"
The nails pulsed violently in response, sinking a fraction deeper, forcing another stream of golden ichor to spill from her wounds. Her body convulsed, but her glare never faltered. She did not whimper, did not yield. The chamber itself seemed to recoil from her refusal to break.
Adam’s breath caught in his throat. His rage burned hotter, but beneath it there was something else. Respect. Even with her body crucified and torn open, she defied her captors without hesitation. She had every reason to despair, yet she still spat in the face of her torment.
Leo’s eyes narrowed, a faint spark of admiration breaking through his usual composure. "Incredible," he muttered under his breath. "Even here, even ... she refuses to bow. I can see where you get your stubborness from."
Adam’s lips twisted into something caught between a grimace and a smile. His chest felt heavy, a storm of rage and pride tearing through him all at once. He did not look at Leo, did not answer. His eyes never left Arachne, as if by sheer will alone he could shoulder some fraction of her torment.
Arachne’s ragged breathing steadied for a heartbeat as her eyes drifted across the chamber. Slowly, painfully, she lifted her head higher, forcing her gaze over the figures before her. At first there was only disdain in her expression, the bitter confidence of one who had endured countless tricks before.
Her eyes passed over Leo, then Luna, then Aria and Lily, before finally resting on Adam. Her lips curled into a frown, the corners twitching with the expectation that they would flicker and vanish as so many illusions had done before. She waited for their outlines to blur, for their voices to dissolve into echoes and leave her in silence once more.
But the figures did not fade.
The frown deepened. Her chest rose and fell more sharply as her dulled eyes searched their forms again, lingering this time on the details. Their breathing. The faint sound of their shifting feet. The way their energy pressed against the space around them. None of it cracked or wavered. None of it fell apart as a conjured dream should.
Her expression shifted, suspicion dawning like a shadow creeping across her features. Her gaze lingered on Lily, on the faint aura of life energy that pulsed so naturally from her. It turned to Aria, who trembled as she clutched her instrument like a shield. It drifted to Leo, his stance composed but his eyes burning with restraint. Each of them radiated presence, not illusion.
Finally, her gaze found Adam again. Her eyes widened, and the blood-stained corners of her lips parted as the realization struck. This was no false vision meant to torment her. This was no phantom conjured to mock her longing or break her spirit. These were her children. They had come all this way.
The defiance that had burned so fiercely a moment before faltered, overtaken by horror.
"No," she rasped, her voice breaking as her body shook against the nails. "Not you. Not here."
Her breathing quickened, panic flooding her ruined frame. She pulled weakly against her restraints, ichor spilling faster as the nails dug deeper. Every movement sent tremors of agony through her body, but she no longer cared. Her eyes darted from one face to the next, desperation breaking through the armor of her defiance.
"Why are you here?!" She roared in a rare cry of despair
Adam’s throat felt tight, the words clawing their way out of him before he could stop them. "We are here to break you out of this place," he said, his voice steady despite the storm raging in his chest. His fists trembled at his sides, but his eyes never wavered.
Arachne’s head tilted forward, her blood-matted hair falling over her face as a broken laugh slipped past her lips. The sound was sharp, bitter, and laced with disbelief. She shook her head slowly, the chains rattling as the nails pulsed again, draining more of her ichor.
"Fools," she whispered, her tone venomous though weak. Her lips curled into a twisted grin. "Why in all the hells would you come here? For this?" She tugged faintly at her crucifixion, ichor dripping down her sides. "I will be released soon. My torment is temporary, my chains will break when the punishment is over. Do you think you can outmatch the will of the gods? Do you think I need rescuing?"
Her voice cracked at the last word, but her glare stayed sharp.
Adam’s jaw clenched, and he stepped forward. "I don’t need a reason," he growled, his voice carrying the weight of everything he had buried for years. His eyes locked with hers, unwavering and raw. "I don’t need anyone’s permission. I don’t care what deals you made or what punishment you think you deserve. I came here for one reason. To save my mother."
The chamber seemed to fall silent at the words. Even the faint drip of ichor from the cages above felt muted, swallowed by the weight of his confession.
Arachne froze. Her breath hitched sharply, her chest rising and falling as though the air itself had turned heavy. Slowly, her head lifted, strands of hair sliding away to reveal her eyes.
All eight pupils widened at once, dilating in shock. For the first time since they had entered, the cruel defiance in her expression faltered completely. The venomous smile slipped, replaced by something unguarded, something raw.
Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. Only silence, trembling on the edge of disbelief.