Path of the Extra

“What?”

Aeliana looked at Solomon, her expression cold, as though she found no humor in his words.

Joaquin scowled.

“That’s impossible. One of my men would’ve reported it by now if anything involving the four great clans was happening in the underground world.”

Solomon, however, remained unbothered. He shrugged his shoulders casually.

“It hasn’t been revealed to the entire underground world yet. Only to the more… influential people. I happen to have a buddy—let’s call him that—who’s in the know. He told me. But don’t worry, it’s only a matter of time before everyone else there finds out.”

Without warning, a file materialized in his hand. Solomon tossed it to Joaquin, who caught it effortlessly, his gaze already shifting to the folder. Stay connected through empire

Aeliana walked behind him, peering over his shoulder. Together, they opened the file.

The more they read, the colder their expressions became.

Ragnar soon joined them, followed by Jasmine, who silently moved to look at the contents as well. That left only Azriel, Nol, Iryndra, and Solomon in their places.

Solomon’s eyes flicked to Nol, who stood idly, his bored gaze wandering around the lounge. Then his attention shifted to Azriel, who appeared lost in thought, absentmindedly running his hand through Iryndra’s hair.

Unlike Azriel, whose face betrayed nothing, Iryndra’s worry was written all over her. Her brows were furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line as if lost in deep contemplation.

“Are you scared, little girl?” Solomon asked, breaking the silence.

His voice snapped both Azriel and Iryndra out of their thoughts, and they blinked at him simultaneously.

To his surprise, Iryndra shook her head.

“It doesn’t make sense… why the Supreme Archon would target him,” she muttered.

“Azriel is responsible for the death of one of his best men,” Jasmine interjected, her sharp gaze landing on Azriel. “And kidnapping a former Heptarch, along with how much you strangely know about Neo Genesis… you’re an irritating threat they might want to eliminate.”

“Hm, but shouldn’t I be on that list too?” Solomon chimed in, pointing at himself with a mock-confused expression.

“I mean, I did rip Zoran’s head off. But, according to the little girl, I’m on a ‘no-kill’ list. Courtesy of Neo Genesis, I assume?”

“The Supreme Archon never takes direct action,” Iryndra cut in hastily, her voice rising slightly.

“We all know he’s there, but… he does nothing. He gathers information through his spies, sure, but he rarely moves personally. So why now? And why target him specifically?”

The room grew quiet. Even Solomon, who usually wore a teasing smirk, seemed thoughtful. Everyone was listening.

Azriel, however, looked anything but concerned. Instead, his expression was one of curiosity—almost intrigue.

Then, Iryndra’s eyes widened in realization. She looked up at Azriel, her face pale.

“W-What if it has to do with you being 666? Pa—Lucidiux told me about the project. He said it was… important.”

“What does she mean by ‘project’?” Aeliana asked, her voice sharp with concern as she turned to Azriel.

Azriel ignored her, focusing instead on Iryndra. A small, reassuring smile played on his lips.

“I doubt that,” he said calmly. “And don’t worry about Lucidiux. I didn’t kill him. But you don’t need to concern yourself with him or anyone else from Neo Genesis anymore.”

Iryndra stared at him, shocked and visibly confused.

Azriel’s smile widened into a grin, and he turned to address the others.

“You’re curious about how I know so much about Neo Genesis?” His voice was steady, almost casual.

“The answer’s simple.”

He paused, his grin sharpening as his gaze swept across the room.

“I was one of them.”

“!!”

*****

How would Azriel get out of this situation?

It was obvious that he couldn’t avoid it for much longer.

He had to give them something—something that would satisfy them.

There were countless ways to get out of this, honestly.

But all of them, every single one, boiled down to one thing: lying.

Azriel didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to lie to his family. He knew they would eventually find out, one way or another.

Misunderstandings, unnecessary drama—he wanted none of it.

He just wanted to tell them the truth.

There was no deeper reason. No hidden agenda.

It was simply what he wanted.

The Supreme Archon’s declaration of war, though… that was unexpected.

Was Azriel surprised? Yes.

Was he scared? A little.

But after a moment of thought, it made sense.

In some strange, unexplainable way, Azriel had known this was coming.

When he heard that the Supreme Archon was after him, he didn’t feel panic. Not the way most people would. Instead, his heart raced.

But not from fear.

It was something else entirely—something closer to excitement?

Why would the Supreme Archon personally come after him?

The books had hinted at it before: the Supreme Archon wasn’t just a powerful figure. He was like Azriel.

An Apostle. A son of one of the Ten Gods.

But which one? That had never been mentioned.

Azriel, however, knew.

It wasn’t knowledge he had learned or been told. It was something innate, like knowing how to breathe or the ache of hunger.

The Supreme Archon was the son of the God of Time.

The Supreme Archon was the Apostle of Time.

The son of Time.

Just as Azriel was the son of the God of Death.

It was strange how the realization came to him now and not before.

Trying to dig deeper into what he instinctively knew felt like chasing a shadow—grasping for something only to have it slip away.

So, Azriel stopped.

Instead, he did what he had decided from the start.

He told the truth.

Well, not the entire truth.

There were things he simply couldn’t tell—either because he didn’t know them himself or because they weren’t his secrets to reveal.

For instance, he explained how he met Nol, but not how he had arrived in White Haven. Instead, he repeated something Nol had said the first time they met.

They seemed to accept it—or at least pretended to. But their curiosity about the Asura Mountains and its altar was obvious.

Azriel then spoke of his time in the Void Realm after leaving White Haven.

And then… he told them about the day Neo Genesis took him.

He remembered it vividly. Too vividly.

Both paths he had walked as Subject 666 were burned into his memory, making it all the more disturbing. More uncomfortable.

So, he didn’t go into much detail.

And he was grateful no one asked him to.

He did, however, explain Project New Eden—what it was and how they had experimented on him.

When he revealed the truth about Voidwalker blood, everyone in the room froze. Everyone except Jasmine, who looked confused but kept quiet. Even Iryndra had known about Voidwalkers.

Their reactions amused him, especially Solomon’s wide-eyed stare.

Azriel wondered what expression he was making as he spoke. Was he smiling? Frowning? Did he look sad?

He could hear his voice—it was steady, detached, as if recounting something unremarkable.

But the faces of the others said otherwise.

He talked about meeting Iryndra before becoming an official member of Neo Genesis. He regretted mentioning the Ice Throne, though. Iryndra wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes after that, her shame palpable.

Then Azriel stopped.

The pause only deepened the unease in the room. It wasn’t hesitation—at least, not entirely. He was simply trying to decide how much he should reveal about the God of Death and himself.

Should he tell them? Should he explain the mana contract?

Only Ragnar and Joaquin knew what a mana contract truly meant. If it came to it, Azriel could claim he had learned about it from Arthur.

Their gazes kept flicking to his bandaged left arm—more than once, especially after he mentioned his time as Subject 666.

“Y-you… you don’t have to force yourself…”

Jasmine’s voice trembled as she clutched the backrest of the sofa. Her wide eyes were locked on Azriel, pleading.

Azriel sighed and shifted his attention to Joaquin and Ragnar.

“I formed a mana contract.”

For a moment, silence.

Confusion clouded everyone’s faces—everyone except Ragnar and Joaquin, who sat frozen, their wide-eyed stares locked on Azriel.

“What… what did you just say?” Ragnar’s voice was low, almost disbelieving.

Azriel sighed again and elaborated, his tone even:

“The doctor taught me about mana contracts. I secretly learned how to form them.”

Those who knew about mana contracts also knew of the three conditions required to form one.

But not the fourth.

Azriel revealed it. Yes, he did. But he shifted the blame onto Arthur, claiming it was him who had told him about it.

Honestly, Azriel was struggling to suppress his laughter as he watched two great kings—stare at him in utter disbelief.

Then, right before everyone’s eyes, Azriel raised his bandaged left arm.

Without a word, he began unwrapping the fabric. Layer by layer, the bandages fell away until the truth was laid bare for all to see.

“I succeeded in forming the mana contract using the fourth condition.”

His voice was calm, almost detached, as if he were sharing a trivial anecdote.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“…The God of Death answered me. And in exchange for my life…” Azriel paused, his gaze moving across the faces in the room, lingering on each of them.

“The God of Death destroyed the facility and everyone responsible for Project New Eden. Everyone who isn’t a Saint has forgotten the name of Iryndra.”

He lowered his gaze to his exposed arm, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. At least, he hoped it looked like a smile.

“But it seems the God of Death took pity on me. When I opened my eyes again… I was in Europe.”