Little Pink Starfish

“Whichever it is… the fact that I didn’t detect something of this scale until now—it’s horrifying.”

Casting a detection spell revealed that the same protective magic extended beyond what was visible—both below and above ground. Still, there were no signs of life. But there were troubling signs: traces of enchanted magic stones embedded in experimental devices, and the active flow of magical circuits connected to them.

“Should I send Veloan over there? No—better not to split up. If this is Duke Superzen’s trap, he’s likely prepared countermeasures against Veloan.”

But even then, something didn’t sit right. Even with preparations, the complete lack of presence was suspicious.

“Could it be… he’s truly given up and plans to bury the whole place? Something this massive?”

Having investigated other black magic or cult laboratories before, Ishar knew how big this place really was. The active magic surging through it—if it really was meant to obliterate the site—sent a chill down his spine.

“Ah… why did I forget?”

Suddenly struck with realization, Ishar turned sharply to Veloan, who had been quietly watching him. Veloan tilted his head slightly, curious.

“Veloan.”

“Yes, Ishar?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but… I’m fine.”

“You’re not afraid of being underground anymore?”

They were clearly underground. It was well-finished, but as a mage, Veloan would still sense it instinctively.

Veloan gave a small sigh as if remembering something he had forgotten, then leaned toward Ishar.

“If I say I still am, will you kiss me?”

“…Hold on.”

With a playful smile and lighthearted voice, he hardly seemed like someone afraid of being underground.

“You once told me you hated it, remember? After the nightmare in the mausoleum, you begged me not to go to the Sanctum. Don’t tell me… it was all an act?”

“Of course not.”

“I figured. Sorry for doubting—”

“Half of it was an act. So you’d pamper me and keep your eyes on me for a little longer.”

“…”

“But I wasn’t lying completely. After realizing there’s something far scarier, the fear of being underground lessened.”

“Something scarier?”

Forget irritation—concern took over Ishar’s expression. Veloan averted his eyes and stared ahead instead. Ishar didn’t press further—Veloan had already made his point.

Soon, the first door came into view. Ishar didn’t open it by hand. Instead, he used aura to disintegrate the door entirely. What lay beyond left him sighing sharply.

“…”

Human body parts preserved in small tanks, arranged like exhibits. Next to each tank was what appeared to be a surgical cot. The implication was clear.

“You’ll damage your teeth. Relax, Ishar.”

“…Let’s go. There’s more to verify.”

Rather than enter, Ishar cast a protective barrier over the room and turned toward the next one.

He checked ten rooms in total. When he reached the eleventh and final one at the end of the corridor, he struggled to suppress his murderous rage.

His hands, clenched so tightly they turned bone-white, trembled with fury. Even sensing Veloan’s gaze, Ishar couldn’t regain control.

“Since when? Since when has this been happening? A facility of this size—I should’ve found it. How did it escape me for so long? While so many died… what was I doing?”

The same fury and self-loathing that had gripped him the day he learned of Karsha’s crimes surged again. What tormented him most was his ignorance.

Born of royalty, raised in privilege—he had done nothing while the powerless suffered beneath the greed of the strong. He hadn’t even realized it.

He could hardly breathe. His guilt felt infinite. Even having led the Empire into its golden age—he had done far too little to redeem the sins of the past.

“Ishar.”

“…!”

As he turned, soft lips pressed against his own. Ishar blinked in shock at the unexpected kiss from Veloan.

Veloan gave him a gentle blink, as if saying “it’s okay,” and the tension melted from Ishar’s lips. A warm, damp tongue slipped into his mouth, moving slowly as if soothing him.

The metallic taste of blood from his bitten lip mixed with Veloan’s kiss.

The strength drained from Ishar’s fists. Veloan took his limp hands and gently held them, then slowly pulled back.

“It’s okay to be angry. But don’t hurt yourself because of it.”

The calm kindness in Veloan’s voice pierced Ishar’s chest like a blade. Though it came from love, it awakened guilt all over again.

“Veloan… there’s something I must confess. I came here intending to erase any evidence of my own guilt—before you could ever find it. Selfish, I know. I just didn’t want to lose your love.”

Words he would never be able to say aloud caught on the tip of his tongue. Veloan’s love pierced him so deeply, moment by moment, that he couldn’t bring himself to speak his sins.

Instead, he gave a small nod to the waiting Veloan and turned to the final door.

“If I can preserve the records and corpses believed to be researchers from the rooms we’ve seen, I can prove Duke Superzen’s crimes.”

Duke Superzen seemed confident in his victory. But everything Ishar had seen so far pointed back to him alone.

The records of inhumane human experiments, even handwritten instructions bearing the Duke’s name—everything pointed to a singular perpetrator.

“It would be best if there were survivors…”

They could testify. But there was nothing but cold corpses.

Even the researchers had been carefully arranged like displays. They had died in different ways, but all ended the same—suicide. The notes found on their bodies confirmed it.

“Did Duke Superzen really think he could kill Veloan and me? That even if he was discovered, it wouldn’t matter? No… that doesn’t add up. If he was so certain, why did the researchers all take their own lives?”

The more he thought, the harder it became to decipher that cunning old man’s intentions. Unease crept in. Perhaps something had already been prepared—something strong enough to kill both of them—and he hadn’t noticed, foolishly bringing Veloan along.

“Ishar, allow me to open it.”

Seeing Ishar hesitate in front of the final door, Veloan assumed he was still battling his anger.

“I’ll do it.”

What if opening this door triggered an explosion? Or brought down the entire facility? Or activated ancient magic? Ishar couldn’t let Veloan face that risk.

He carefully strengthened the protective magic around them both and opened the door himself.

“…”

It was spatial magic.

The instant the door opened, the scent, the sight—it was clear.

“…This is…”

A study. The familiar room of Duke Superzen’s manor. Ishar had only been there once.

And in front of him—was the silhouette of a man.

“Duke… Superzen…?”

His mouth went dry, as if filled with sand. His voice emerged hoarse and lifeless.

Ishar couldn’t move. For a moment, he wondered if he was under an illusion spell.

That’s how surreal it all felt—so different from the blood-stained laboratory behind them.

“What… what is this?”

Duke Superzen was hanging by the neck from a decorative beam above the window. Dead.

Still in disbelief, Ishar cast a spell on himself—only to confirm it was real.

One of the Empire’s pillars. The man who ordered human experimentation to extend his life had died by his own hand.

A pitiful, easy death.

“It’s not a dream.”

The feel of the air on his skin, the pull of magic—it was all too vivid. And then, a strange discomfort made him lower his gaze.

On the desk—a piece of paper, folded deliberately in half.

Leaving Veloan watching silently behind him, Ishar approached and picked it up.

The texture of the paper was familiar. His breath caught.

“He got that paper…?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

A memory flashed—his own younger voice demanding paper, and Marriad’s gentle answer, having sourced luxurious stock that couldn’t be found in the palace.

Her voice echoed in his mind like a ghost.