Page 62 of Obsession

"Where's Kann?" The Drexian asked, his voice barely audible as he eyed me.

"Captured.” The word was bitter in my mouth. “They took him to the dungeons.”

Britta inclined her head to me. “This is Volten, his best friend. We're going to get him out."

The Drexian's gaze moved between us. I held my breath, knowing how easily he could raise the alarm if he did not believe us. Finally, he gave a slight nod.

"You are either brave or incredibly foolish to enter the dungeons of your own volition,” he muttered. "Though I suppose those often go hand-in-hand."

Rapid footsteps approached from the stairwell we had just descended.

Zokren muttered a curse, then made a quick decision. "Go. Get Kann. I’ll distract them.”

I clapped the Drexian on the shoulder as I passed him and motioned for Britta to follow me. This stranger had no reason to help us, yet he was risking himself. I knew that the Drexians—aside from us—were holographic, but they were frighteningly realistic. Since when did holograms display bravery?

As Britta and I hurried away, Zokren took loud steps in the other direction and called out to the approaching Drexians. "I was just heading up to report..."

I moved as quickly as possible while being virtually silent, the smell of decay growing stronger with each step. Then I spotted the dungeon entrance ahead—a massive iron gate that should have been locked and guarded. Instead, it hung open, creaking slightly in a draft of fetid air.

I paused. This was too easy, too convenient. But we had no choice—Kann was down there, bleeding, possibly dying.

Taking a deep breath, and trying not to gag on the putrid stench, I walked forward into the darkness beyond the gate. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, a steady rhythm like a countdown. The walls pressed in closer here, the ceiling lower, as if the very architecture was designed to make it feel like being crushed.

Even though the dungeon at the real academy—my academy—was no longer used to house cadets who violated rules, Iwondered how many had been brought down here over the centuries. How many had been imprisoned in the dark?

Not Kann, I promised myself. We were going to get him out.

If only we weren't too late.

Chapter

Forty-Three

Kann

"I'm Tov," the Drexian in the next cell whispered. "First year. I was hoping to become a Blade, before…” He gestured at our surroundings.

My head snapped up so fast the dungeon spun around me. Tov. The name hit me like a physical blow, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I pressed harder against my wound, trying to focus through the fog of blood loss and shock.

Tov was one of the historical figures I had been sure to include in the simulation. He was a legendary Blade who had gone on to establish Inferno Force. I knew more about him, but now the details slipped away like water through my fingers.

"Are you all right?" Tov's voice cut through my swirling thoughts. "You look pale. Well, paler than before."

I forced myself to focus. This was just a simulation, I reminded myself. But still—this was as close as I would ever get to the greatest Blade in history.

"I have been better, but I will survive,” I managed, though the growing pool of blood at my feet argued otherwise. "You mentioned an escape plan?"

Tov nodded, his eyes darting to the guard stationed at the far end of the dungeon. "We need him to come to your cell. When he does, I can reach the keys through the bars. You just need to keep his attention."

The room swam again, and I had to lean against the bars to stay upright. "I don't think getting his attention will be a problem," I muttered.

Taking as deep a breath as I could manage, I called out, "Guard! I need to go to the surgeon!”

"The healer," Tov corrected, his voice low.

Right. Ancient academy. No surgeons yet or medical bays. "The healer.” I raised my voice. “I need to see the healer!"

The guard ignored me at first, but I could see him shift uncomfortably as I continued to call out. Finally, with obvious reluctance, he started toward my cell.

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