Bermuda

Leonardo jerked awake from sleep. The room was pitch black—proof that it was still the early hours of the morning.

He exhaled heavily, his breath ragged, and nausea surged through him as he sat upright on the cot in the detention facility. Blinking blearily at the floor, he saw it awash with blood—though reason told him that couldn’t be true.

Covering his face with both hands, he rubbed it as if trying to wash away a nightmare. Cold sweat soaked his forehead and clung to his skin. Running a rough hand «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» through his hair, Leonardo let out a long sigh and bit down hard on his lip.

Why now... after so long without them?

As he shut his eyes, the ringing in his ears intensified—shrill screams, animalistic shrieks, explosions, insults hurled at him. The chaotic cacophony stabbed at his brain like ice picks.

The cries closed in from all sides, threatening to consume him.

Even when he forced his eyes open and stared into the darkness, the noise in his ears made it feel like he was right back in the middle of a battlefield.

Then a sharp jolt of pain flared from his left shoulder. He clutched it with his right hand, wincing.

You're no hero. You're a walking calamity.

“Get lost.”

That river of blood—you caused all of it.

“I said get lost.”

Gripping his skull, Leonardo doubled over as though trying to physically push the voices out of his mind. The shrill accusations screamed at him from right beside his ears. On the edge of a breakdown, he suddenly sprang to his feet.

The imagined blood on the floor now soaked his feet. And where there had been only shadows before, a mountain of mutilated corpses now loomed before him. Blood gushed from it, crawling up his legs like a living tide.

A severed head tumbled from the top of the pile, landing amid the jumbled limbs and torn bodies. The head still wore half a helmet—the other half was crushed inward, exposing shredded flesh and dark red tissue.

Fragments of the helmet jutted from the mangled skin, twitching. Brain matter oozed out with the blood, forming a grotesque pool. The face—barely recognizable as human—shifted constantly between expressions, crying one moment and laughing the next.

You will never—

The final visage twisted into a mask of contempt and hatred. One burst eye locked onto Leonardo with unrelenting clarity as it spoke:

Die a natural death.

Clank—!

As the first light of dawn broke, a guard unlocked and opened the door to Leonardo’s cell. The moment he stepped in, he froze. Leonardo sat on the sofa with an eerie stillness, eyes staring into nothing.

The sound of the door caught Leonardo’s attention. His blank gaze flicked forward, then slowly turned to the figure in the doorway.

Meeting that intense stare, the guard swallowed hard and masked his unease as he placed a set of Council-issued combat gear, military boots, and a breakfast tray on the table.

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed as they landed on the navy-blue uniform.

“What’s that?”

His voice came out hoarse, adding a menacing edge. The guard cleared his throat nervously.

“A special order from the Commander. You’ve been assigned the Council’s combat uniform for today’s expedition. Consider it an honor.”

Leonardo scoffed and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Honor... what a joke.”

The guard bristled but held his tongue. He was about to leave when Leonardo’s voice stopped him.

“Hey. Wait a minute.”

He turned back, eyebrows raised.

“My artifact—you confiscated it. Give it back.”

Leonardo was handed all the possessions that had been taken from him in Frost Territory.

He retrieved his familiar mage robe from the artifact’s inventory—a luxurious piece in ivory with gold-lined accents, highly resistant to fire and electricity.

Ignoring the Council-issued uniform, he put on his own robe, slid white gloves onto his hands, and fastened a black cloak around his shoulders.

He adorned his fingers with mana-conducting rings and stood in front of the mirror.

The man reflected back at him—blond hair, golden eyes—looked like someone he hadn’t seen in years.

Leonardo studied his real face for a long time. Having kept it hidden from the public for so long, it felt strangely foreign to be showing it again, even to himself.

At the same time, a faint thrill stirred within him.

Exploring the unknown, taking on missions, subjugating monsters, living side-by-side with comrades—this used to be his daily routine.

He hadn't volunteered for this expedition, but it was still the first mission he’d officially been assigned since the court-martial.

He listened to the rhythm of his own heartbeat, then shook his head and muttered to his reflection:

“What the hell are you hoping for?”

Knock knock—

A knock sounded from the other side of the door.

Since the door could only be opened from the outside, and guards never knocked, there was only one man who would follow such a courteous formality.

Leonardo glanced toward the door and said dryly,

“Who is it?”

A deep, pleasant baritone answered, now familiar to his ears:

“It’s time. Let’s go.”

Moments later, the door opened, letting in the light.

Standing in the doorway was the blue-eyed man, who stepped inside and glanced at Leonardo, then at the untouched uniform on the table.

“You didn’t wear the combat uniform.”

Leonardo’s response was curt.

“I’m not a Council soldier. Why would I wear a Council uniform?”

Hugo gave a small nod.

“As you wish.”

Leonardo gave him a once-over.

He’d only ever seen Agrizendro in the pristine white of his formal uniform, but now—clad in a navy combat suit, black boots, and a tactical vest—he gave off a different impression entirely.

His frame looked even more imposing, with broad shoulders and a powerful V-shaped torso. The long legs and tightly-laced boots added a streamlined sharpness to his presence.

The navy complemented his dark-blue hair perfectly. His shadowed eyes, firm jawline, and strong neck now emphasized something raw and masculine—far from the neat dignity of his usual uniformed appearance.

Leonardo paused, searching for the right word to describe the effect.

Somehow... it was—

“Kinda sexy...”

“Leonardo.”

Startled by the sudden voice, Leonardo snapped back to attention, embarrassed that he’d been staring.

But Hugo didn’t seem to notice. He spoke solemnly:

“You know from your military experience—individual actions during group ops can endanger everyone. Remember that, and follow only my orders. Got it?”

Leonardo blinked a few times, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Seriously? You were in the Imperial Army too. Then you should know how rigid military structure is. Of course I know.”

Hugo stared at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

“Good. I wasn’t sure. It’s been nearly ten years since I served.”

That made sense. Hugo’s military stint had come before Leonardo’s enlistment—more ceremonial than active, given his noble family’s prestige.

Despite being a top-tier recruit, he’d never been assigned to a dangerous unit like Armsilver. His military service had barely left a mark.

Only when his superior, Abraham Langaster, transferred to the Council and brought Hugo with him did his career begin to gain real visibility. Many didn’t even know he’d once worn Imperial Army colors.

But Leonardo knew. He shrugged casually.

“Didn’t know the full story. But I saw your name in enough old records while digging through files.”

Hugo’s lips twitched into a slight smile, clearly amused.

“Then you must also know—I’m nearly ten years your senior. You don’t talk like someone with respect for that.”

Leonardo was caught off guard, blinking like an idiot.

“...You’re pulling rank now?”

Hugo chuckled lightly, checked his wristwatch, then jerked his chin toward the door.

“Let’s go. We’re running out of time.”