Path of the Extra

Chapter 85: Prelude to Genesis [2]

Even though they were indoors, it felt like they were standing naked in an open, frozen wasteland.

”Who did you say leaked our plan...?”

Zoranʼs low, chilling voice slithered into their ears.

”A-Azriel Crimson… son of Joaquin Crimson, the Crimson King of East Asia. He was supposed to have been killed two years ago.”

Branʼs words were swallowed by yet another suffocating silence.

”....”

They wanted to breathe, but each attempt felt like drowning. Every gasp of air stuck in their throats, unable to escape.

”Are you telling me that a dead child leaked our plan? A plan that was nearly impossible to execute because weʼve barely any foothold in Asia? And now itʼs ruined... because of a kid whoʼs supposed to be dead?”

Bran and Brian bit down hard on their lips, tasting blood.

”T-thatʼs not true, Lord Zoran…”

Danteʼs voice broke through the tension, though it trembled like a thread about to snap.

”Oh? Then letʼs hear it. Look into my eyes, Dante.”

Dante hesitated, but slowly, obediently, he lifted his head.

The sight that met him made his skin crawl, as if thousands of ants were swarming beneath his flesh.

ʼItʼs just like His Excellency…ʼ

Zoranʼs figure was barely human—a shadow made flesh, like a twisted, living darkness.

But there was a difference.

A glaring, terrifying difference between Zoran and Nol from White Haven.

Zoranʼs head was crowned by glowing, white orbs where his eyes should have been—soulless lights that bore into Danteʼs very being, making his mind scream at him to run.

ʼWhy... why is there such a gap between us…?ʼ

Dante was a Grand Executor, while Zoran was a Heptarch. A difference of only one rank. Yet standing in Zoranʼs presence, it felt like the chasm between a human and a god.

No…

There was never any gap to begin with.

No matter how high Dante climbed, the distance between him and a Heptarch remained the same—unbridgeable, infinite.

No one had ever witnessed someone rise to the rank of Heptarch.

No.

They were always just… there.

Like His Supreme Archon.

Danteʼs mouth barely opened as he began to recount everything heʼd told Bran and Brian.

His throat burned, but he pushed through, knowing that every word could be his last.

Zoranʼs glowing eyes didnʼt blink.

He didnʼt move.

He only stared down at Dante, silently absorbing every word until Dante finished his report.

ʼI need water… I canʼt breathe…ʼ

Danteʼs throat felt like it was on fire, every swallow of air agonizing. He wanted to run, to throw himself out of Zoranʼs sight.

He was terrified.

He knew that if Zoran willed it, he could die in an instant.

Dante bit his lip, forcing his gaze to meet those hollow, glowing eyes once more. He didnʼt know what Zoran truly looked like beneath the shadows.

Perhaps it was better that way.

Because deep down, Dante knew: no matter how much stronger he became, he would never want to deal with someone like Zoran.

ʼWhy… why isnʼt he saying anything?!ʼ

It was hell.

The silence was hell.

Time felt warped, stretched beyond reason.

Danteʼs eyes were locked with Zoranʼs soulless orbs, and though only seconds had passed, it felt like an eternity.

His mind screamed at him to look away, but his body wouldnʼt obey.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum that seemed to grow louder in his ears.

Until—

”…Thatʼs not possible.”

Zoranʼs voice sliced through the suffocating quiet like a blade, and it sent a violent shiver down Danteʼs spine.

But his voice—there was a tremor.

Danteʼs skin crawled.

His eyes darted toward Zoranʼs mouth, trying to find movement, something to latch onto, but there was nothing.

No lips to form words, no expression to read—only the dark, shapeless figure of a man and those terrifying orbs, glowing brighter now.

”No… no, no, no, no!”

The room quaked.

A deep, visceral vibration that seemed to come from the walls themselves, as if the very foundation of the building had reacted to Zoranʼs words

”Impossible!”

Glass vials shattered, spraying the floor with fragments.

Dante felt his blood turn to ice.

His mind couldnʼt grasp the madness unfolding before him.

Zoranʼs voice had grown louder, deeper, filled with a rage that made Danteʼs stomach twist into knots.

It felt like the very air in the room was being sucked away, leaving only the stifling weight of dread.

The pressure in his chest built, a suffocating force that made it impossible to draw a full breath.

”Azriel Crimson… the Apex!? White Haven!? Our plan… leaked!?”

Zoranʼs voice cracked like thunder, making their bodies tremble violently.

The dark, shadowy hands that were Zoranʼs fingers clutched at his head, his voice spiraling into a frenzy.

”This wasnʼt supposed to happen! It wasnʼt supposed to be! Not like this!”

He staggered, lurching towards a table, his fingers scraping across the metal surface with a sound that sent shivers down their spines.

A horrible screech, like nails on a chalkboard, echoed in the lab.

”The book… yes, the book… itʼll tell me the truth. It always tells me the truth. It never lies. Never.”

Danteʼs heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest.

He wanted to run.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to flee, to get out of the room, but his feet remained rooted to the spot.

He looked toward Bran and Brian, but they were just as paralyzed with fear, their eyes wide, faces pale, bodies trembling.

Dante and the twins squinted as a sudden, eerie white glow flickered on the table.

When it subsided, a thick book lay there—its cover completely white.

Its cover was a stark, unsettling white, and though Dante couldnʼt explain why, the sight of it sent a wave of nausea crashing over him.

Zoranʼs trembling hand reached out, grabbing it.

He opened the book with a snap.

Dante watched, breath shallow, as Zoran scanned the first page.

He turned to the second, then the third, his movements growing faster.

Fourth.

Fifth.

Sixth.

Page after page, Zoran flipped, his eyes darting frantically over the words.

And then—

”No… no, no, no… this is a joke. A cruel joke the gods are playing with me!”

Zoranʼs voice was manic as he tore at the pages, ripping them out one by one.

”Theyʼre blank! Why are they all blank!?”

Dante and the twins were frozen, watching in horror as Zoran spiraled further into madness.

The longer he flipped through the book, the more feral his movements became.

”Itʼs all gone… ruined! Destroyed! You damned fool… what have you done?!”

Zoranʼs voice was almost unrecognizable now, filled with a despair that seemed to echo off the walls.

The windows shattered, the cold wind howling into the room, biting at their skin like razors.

None of them moved, none of them breathed.

They could only watch as Zoranʼs madness unfolded before them

”The future… itʼs all destroyed!”

Dante felt something wet trickle down his face.

His trembling hand reached up, touching his cheek.

Tears.

He was crying.

But why?

He didnʼt understand.

He didnʼt even feel sad.

Just… lost.

Then, Zoranʼs eyes locked onto Dante.

A violent shudder ran down Danteʼs spine.

Zoran took a step toward him.

ʼRun...ʼ

The thought screamed in Danteʼs mind.

Run.

Another step.

And another.

Zoran was standing over him now, his towering form casting a long, dark shadow over Danteʼs trembling body.

Dante had to crane his neck to look up, but he wished he hadnʼt.

Those glowing eyes, once terrifying, now seemed to bore into his soul.

But he couldnʼt move.

His legs were paralyzed, as if weighed down by invisible chains.

”You… what does Azriel Crimson look like?”

Dante tried to swallow, but his throat was bone-dry.

His voice barely worked.

”B-black hair… and red eyes… like his sister, Jasmine Crimson. He has a black katana that belonged to king Joaquin…”

Zoranʼs shadowy hand shot forward, brushing against Danteʼs cheek.

The cold touch made him flinch.

The twins looked on, horrified, but just as frozen as Dante.

Zoranʼs hand gently traced Danteʼs face, his fingers lingering in an almost tender gesture.

”I suppose Iʼll have to deal with that dead child myself…”

”L-lord Zoran, if you could just listen— the prince is work—”

”Shush… now. Itʼs alright. Everything will be alright.”

Dante fell silent.

Zoranʼs cold fingers wiped the tears from his eyes, the touch strangely comforting.

Another hand rested firmly on Danteʼs shoulder, while the one on his face slid to the back of his head.

More tears streamed down Danteʼs cheeks, and to his own shock, he found himself smiling.

He didnʼt understand.

”Itʼs just as you said earlier… that Excellency of yours and Azriel Crimson fooled you. Fooled us. Fooled them.”

Zoranʼs white, glowing eyes seemed softer now.

Dante stared into them, captivated.

ʼBeautiful…ʼ

They werenʼt terrifying anymore.

No.

They were beautiful.

Then—

The only sounds that followed were of something tearing, and the unnatural, gut-wrenching screams that echoed out of the lab.

Sounds that no human voice could make.