Silas lay on the ground, his heart beating in his chest like a mad drum, his eyes fixed in terror on the blade of Captain Jackson's sword gleaming above him. Never in his life had he felt death so close; he could smell the cold metal, completely forgetting the burning pain in his wounded thigh.
Jackson cast a provocative sidelong glance at Elyra, who was screaming at him to stop, enjoying her helplessness. He raised his sword high with both hands, his muscles tensing in preparation for the finishing blow that would sever Silas's head from his body. Silas squeezed his eyes shut, surrendering to the end.
"Stop!"
The voice came sharp and commanding from among the crowd of workers. A figure stepped forward, wearing the same ivory-white ghostly uniform, but shorter than the rest, bearing a distinctive metal badge on his shoulder. It was the Deputy Supervisor, the man who ran things when his master was away.
The Deputy shouted in Jackson's face:
"How did you enter from the other door? No one asked for your help! You've caused too much chaos in this place... Do you know how much loss we would have suffered if the fuel canisters had shattered because of your recklessness?"
"I don't know... and I don't care."
Jackson swung his sword with lightning speed. CLANG!
He didn't cut off Silas's head. The blade veered at the last moment to strike the metal floor right next to Silas's ear, sending sparks flying and creating a terrifying sound.
Silas opened his eyes in shock, trembling from the horror. Jackson slowly pulled his sword from the ground, laughing a light, cold laugh:
"Just a joke... I don't kill the weak; it gives me no pleasure. Hahaha... you can take him for interrogation or torture, I have no more business with him."
The Deputy Supervisor exhaled in anger, then turned to Elyra:
"Drop your sword, too, if you fear for him."
Elyra looked at Silas trembling under the pirate's feet, and at the workers surrounding them. She realized resistance was over. She dropped White Fang from her hand, and it hit the ground with a mournful clatter.
The Deputy signaled the workers:
"Seize them!"
As the workers were binding Elyra, Jackson spotted a suspicious movement in the shadows.
"Oi, oi..." Jackson said mockingly, pointing the tip of his sword toward a dark corner between the shelves.
"I see you're trying to cover up and blend in after your plan failed, you little rat."
The young worker, who had helped Silas and Elyra, was trying to sneak stealthily among the other workers, wearing his mask. But the pirate's expert eye exposed him. The guards pounced on him and dragged him violently, ripping off his mask to reveal his pale face.
At that moment, the other door to the hall opened.
The Supervisor entered in his black cloak and raven mask. His entrance broke the noise immediately; he walked with calm, heavy steps. Everyone froze in place.
The Supervisor walked a few steps past the door, then stopped, scanning the place with a single glance that encompassed the prisoners and the chaos.
"Get them out of here..." he said in a quiet but terrifying voice.
"Bind them well... and let some of you stay to clean up this mess."
***
The scene shifted to a narrow, damp stone chamber, located in the deep basements of the factory. The lighting was scarce, relying on a single candle placed on a wooden table, casting long, eerie shadows on the rough stone walls.
The Supervisor stood in front of the candle, his back to the prisoners, contemplating the flame in silence. Behind him, Silas, Elyra, and the traitorous worker were kneeling. Their hands were tied behind their backs with rough ropes, and they showed signs of severe beating; their faces swollen, their clothes torn.
"And you, you traitor..."
The Deputy Supervisor, whose name was Ben, shouted, grabbing the young worker by his hair.
"We plucked you from the filth! We provided you with a new life and a purpose... Is this the gratitude you repay us with?"
He slapped him twice across the face, making the young man stagger and spit blood.
Ben left the worker and turned toward Silas, who was gasping from the pain in his thigh and stomach.
"Wasn't this beating enough for you?" Ben shouted.
"Don't you want to confess? Who are you? And who sent you to sabotage our factory?"
Silas lifted his head with difficulty, his left eye swollen shut:
"I... told you everything... no one sent us... we are just..."
He didn't let him finish. Ben kicked him hard in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs, and his face fell onto the cold stone floor, gasping for breath.
"Silas!" Elyra screamed, trying to stand up to attack Ben despite her bonds, but two guards pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her to stay kneeling.
"Stop, Ben."
The Supervisor's calm voice came from behind, without turning around.
"We still need them... and the ship they arrived on... We will deal with it later."
Ben stopped kicking and looked at his master:
"What do we do now, sir? They are stubborn."
The Supervisor turned slowly. In his hand, he held a strange device; a rusty iron mask connected to a leather tube and a small cylinder. He walked toward Elyra.
"No..." Silas whispered from the ground.
"Don't touch her..."
The Supervisor grabbed Elyra by her silver hair firmly and lifted her face to his. She resisted him with fierce looks, but he was stronger.
"Let's see if your mind is as strong as your body."
He clamped the iron mask onto her face and tightened the straps behind her head. He turned a small valve on the cylinder.
Hssssss...
Pale blue gas began to leak into the mask.
'A smell... sweet... and disgusting. No... not again. The fog... it's entering... my head is heavy... faces drifting away... darkness is coming... Silas... I... who am I?'
Her muscles relaxed, her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed onto the stone floor, the mask still pumping gas into her lungs.
"Elyra!!"
Silas screamed in a hoarse voice, completely helpless, tears mixing with blood on his face.
'Forgive me… I can't move…'
The Supervisor approached Silas. He bent down slowly until his masked face was very close to Silas's face lying on the ground. Silas could see his distorted reflection in the black lenses of the mask, and the Supervisor's tall, sturdy black boots.
"Didn't I advise you to leave?"
The Supervisor whispered in a low voice, the tone shifting slightly, becoming human... and sarcastic.
"Didn't I tell you to leave the island before you suffered the same fate as the rest?"
Silas froze.
Those words... that sarcastic tone... those boots...
His mind connected the threads in a flash of pure horror.
He lifted his eyes in shock toward the Supervisor.
"You are..."