Chapter 36 Sworn Promise

Words : 902 Updated : Sep 10th, 2025

"...Too bad you're a nobody." Cyrus continued: "Though your talent's lacking, you've got brains, hidden skill~... and a little luck. Most don't even have that." Malik tried to force out a retort, but before he could open his mouth, Cyrus flicked his hand. That simple action released a trickle of pressure, and suddenly it was like a mountain dropped onto his chest. "Ugh—!" His body immediately broke down, and he could do nothing but lay there, watch, and listen. "Though that isn't what makes you interesting. You, my friend~... happen to be full of Aether. Stuffed. That's the only reason I'm even speaking to you. Maybe you'll figure out why if you surviveeeeee." Cyrus turned to leave, handling Huda like a sack of potatoes. "Right now, you're a waste of oxygen. But if you want to ascend..." He glanced at Rafiq's body. "Well, that's on you. Figure it out. Maybe you'll survive." His words weren't just dismissive—they were cutting, dripping with condescension, like Malik wasn't even worth the dirt on his boots. And yet, as those words sank in, something deep inside the boy stirred. No. Not stirred. It roared. He felt it in his chest, his gut, every fiber of his being—a primal rage that burned hotter than the Shams way above them. But, even then, he didn't say a word. He had to keep it in. "...Tshh—" Malik bit down so hard on his lip it nearly bled. His fists clenched at his sides, tight enough to make the wounds under his broken fingertips reopen, blood seeping out and dripping onto the ground. The pain wasn't even registering. All he could feel was that fire. He was NOT going to give Cyrus the satisfaction of seeing him lose it. "...Noooooo~?" Cyrus paused mid-step, glancing back with the faintest glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. He'd expected an outburst. A scream. A plea. Something. But instead, all he got was silence. "You know..." Tilting his head slightly, his voice became smooth and poisonous as a snake's hiss. "I wonder... why did you sacrifice so much for them? I mean, seven days? That's all it took? Really?" He gestured lazily toward Sinbad's body, still lifeless, still cold.@@@@ "You've got no blood bond to them. No obligation. So why? What makes them worth it?" Malik's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together. He had a thousand answers to that question. A thousand reasons why. "..." But none of them left his lips. Instead, he remained on the ground, silent, his rage a volcano ready to blow. Cyrus raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by the lack of response, and then smirked like he'd just thought of something especially cruel. "Nothing to say?" He turned fully and looked down at him, mimicking the start of their first scene together. "Do you think she would do the same?" ...That was it. The breaking point. He was a liar, a schemer, a traitor, a Villain—and every betrayal he'd dealt Huda had been for his own gain. And when the projection finally showed it all—the heavy knife he'd repeatedly driven into her back—her guilt wouldn't just fade; it'd burn to ash. Her pain, her self-loathing, their shared history—every fragile thread would snap under the truth. Whatever bond she thought they had, whatever trust or understanding she'd built with him, tried to hold onto, would shatter into pieces too sharp to touch. And maybe, just maybe, if Zafar was lucky, the wreckage of her emotions wouldn't be wasted. Maybe they'd twist into something darker. Something cruel. Something that, in the end, might serve his purpose. 'Patience.' A cold smirk tugged at his lips. Zafar could wait. 'Betrayal always burns the deepest when it comes from the ones you trusted most.' *** {Inside The Projection} Malik stayed where he was, his body shaking like a leaf in a storm. His fingers dug into the stone floor so hard it felt like they might just crack through it. His jaw was clenched so tight he thought his teeth would snap, blood dripping from where his lip split open. He didn't move. He didn't shout. Because he couldn't. Not without signing his own death warrant. Malik knew how it would end if he had let one word slip. His head would roll. This self-inflicted pain was grounding. A tether that kept him from losing himself completely to the firestorm boiling inside. And Cyrus? He knew. The bastard didn't even bother looking back. Malik wasn't worth it. Just a coward. And that helplessness—that choking, unbearable helplessness—burned worse than anything else. "I'll kill you. I swear... I'll make you pay for this..." His whispers were quiet, but to him, they couldn't be any louder. 'If I can't survive this...' The truth clawed at him like a parasite, digging deep into the cracks of his resolve. 'If I can't Ascend...' Then his words—his promise—would be meaningless. He'd die like everyone else. Forgotten. Weak. And Cyrus would keep walking, untouched, untouchable. Malik didn't know how, or when, or even if he'd get the chance... But if he did, if he survived, he would make Cyrus regret the day he crossed him. 'I swear it.'

Chapter 36 Sworn Promise

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