CHAPTER 319: THE CRACK IN THE CLOAK

I watched the Architect’s agonized screams echo through the void, and a deeply uncomfortable thought crept into my mind.

He’s not going to torture me later too, right?

The realization that Virion might have deliberately delayed his arrival as some kind of twisted lesson made my stomach churn. I made a mental note to take my leave as soon as I finished what I came here for. No point in giving him more opportunities to "teach" me through suffering.

After what felt like an eternity, the screaming finally stopped. The oppressive void began to dissipate like morning mist, the familiar bone architecture of the chamber materializing around us once more. The Nexus Stone resumed its gentle pulsing, casting blue light over the restored space.

"Now you can talk," Virion muttered dismissively as he gracefully descended to perch on my shoulder, his massive draconic form already shrinking back into the familiar winged snake I knew so well.

I glanced at where the Architect had been and had to stifle a chuckle. The once-imposing skeletal figure had also diminished considerably - now standing a full head shorter than me and wrapped in a tattered shadow cloak that did little to hide the way he hunched over, probably concealing whatever injuries Virion had inflicted.

The mighty Architect of Discord, reduced to looking like a petulant child trying to hide after getting scolded.

"Well," I said, crossing my arms and adopting the same tone I’d use with a particularly troublesome merchant, "I believe you mentioned something about making offers? I’m all ears."

The cloaked figure trembled slightly, and I could practically feel the hatred radiating from beneath that hood. But hatred mixed with fear was far more manageable than the confident malevolence from before.

And yet, despite his diminished state, the Architect still carried himself with that insufferable arrogance, straightening slightly within his shadow cloak.

"So," he said, his voice still holding traces of that silky manipulation despite the tremor underneath, "what is it you need from me? More treasures? Wealth? Lost techniques from forgotten ages?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh, we’ll get to all of that eventually. But first, you’re going to answer every question I have. Truthfully. Completely." I stepped closer, enjoying how he instinctively recoiled. "Starting with the true hierarchy of the Abyss and the exact locations of the other dimensional scars and intruders. Or should I call them the Overseers?"

The Architect let out a bitter laugh, shaking his hooded head. "Sorry, kid, but I really can’t tell you anything about the Abyss, even if I wanted to."

I raised an eyebrow, a few guesses appearing in my mind. "Why? Is there some kind of restriction on you? Or... are you afraid of someone?"

"Both," he replied without hesitation, and for the first time since this whole ordeal began, his voice carried what sounded like genuine fear rather than theatrical manipulation. "And you can’t imagine how deeply those roots run. The Abyss doesn’t just punish those who betray its secrets - it unmakes them. Completely. Not simple death or torture, but absolute erasure from all planes of existence."

His form shrank further into the cloak.

"The restrictions were woven into my very essence when I was... recruited. Every Architect, every Overseer, every servant carries the same bindings. Even speaking about certain topics causes..." He paused, and I could see his form shudder. "Let’s just say the pain your master inflicted would seem like a gentle massage in comparison."

Virion’s weight shifted slightly on my shoulder, and I felt his interest sharpen.

"Oho, it seems like I went a lot easier on you, huh? There are far more effective ways to make you talk. Wanna try them out?"

"!"

I watched as the Architect’s entire form trembled at those words, the shadow cloak rippling like disturbed water.

"Tch, coward," Virion snorted dismissively. "But your kind’s defiance is not new. We’ve made several of your ’colleagues’ speak before. Some even betrayed your precious Abyss without a second thought. I know more about your home than you might think."

I glanced at my master, curiosity burning in my chest, but Virion anticipated my question.

(I will tell you when the time is right,) His voice echoed in my mind, answering my unasked question. (Knowing too much too soon has its own dangers.)

(Alright, Master,) I replied, filing the information away for later.

The Architect’s bitter chuckle interrupted our exchange, drawing my attention back to our cowering prisoner.

"You must be talking about the Null Saints," he said, his voice carrying a cruel satisfaction despite his weakened state. "They betrayed their own worlds to join the Abyss, so it’s predictable they’d betray again. Besides, they don’t even know that much."

His tone grew more vicious, almost gleeful.

"Heh, fools. Their deaths must have been horrifying, right?"

Null Saints? Is that a specific title given to those who joined the abyss from other worlds... Does that mean there might be some from our world too...

"Yes," Virion nodded with casual indifference, "but not all of them. There were a few Adaptive Saints, those free from the Abyss’s influence."

The change in the Architect was immediate and startling - like a man stabbed through the heart. His eyes widened beneath his hood, and his entire posture shifted from arrogant mockery to something approaching panic.

What’s with this reaction? Does he know something about these ’Adaptive Saints’ specifically?

The chamber fell into a heavy silence that stretched uncomfortably long. I could practically hear the gears turning in the Architect’s mind, some internal battle playing out behind that shadowed hood.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper and filled with desperate hope.

"Was there... was there someone named Carlotta among them?"

Carlotta? Is it someone important to him? Or his enemy?

Even Virion was momentarily surprised by the intensity of the reaction, his serpentine head tilting slightly.

"I don’t know," Virion shrugged with calculated nonchalance. "I can’t tell you even if I wanted to."

Oho, master knows this tactic too, huh. Or did he learn it from me just now?

The Architect ground his skeletal teeth together, his claws clenched into fists beneath his cloak, and I could see his entire form shaking with some powerful emotion.

Did we find his weakness?

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible, defeated.

"I’ll... tell you."

...

Or did we not?