But Mikhailis ignored the warnings. He had already made up his mind. He watched as the assassin's eyes narrowed, the blade shifting to the side at the last possible mont. Instead of a lethal blow, the strike landed on the side of his neck—an intentional, calculated hit ant to incapacitate rather than kill.
The world around Mikhailis blurred, the shouts of Vyrelda and Lira fading into the background. The last thing he saw was Vyrelda's horrified expression, her mouth open in a scream he couldn't hear, and Lira's terrified eyes wide with disbelief. Then, everything went dark.
Mikhailis smiled one last ti, murmuring under his breath as consciousness slipped away.
"Don't worry... I got this."
The darkness consud him, and his body went limp, collapsing onto the cold ground.
___
Mikhailis woke up to the familiar, crisp voice of Rodion echoing in his head even though he knows that it ca from his glasses.
"Oh shut up, please..."
He groaned as he slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurring montarily before coming into focus. The world around him was dark, with only a dim light hanging above. The place slled of damp concrete and rusted tal.
He blinked, his head throbbing, and then winced as he moved his neck.
"Ugh... Rodion, did anyone get the number of that truck?" he muttered, his voice raspy. The pounding headache was still there, a dull reminder of what had happened.
He tried to shift his shoulders, feeling the stiffness in his muscles.
Mikhailis let out a small huff.
"Thanks, Rodion. I'm sure that'll co in handy."
He took a deep breath, trying to push away the headache. Then, the mory ca flooding back—how he had barely managed to tense up and brace his neck just enough to reduce the impact before getting knocked out. If he hadn't prepared, they might have done more than just render him unconscious.
"Lucky ," he mumbled, the hint of a smile appearing on his face, though his expression was still tinged with irritation.
Mikhailis could hear the sarcasm dripping from Rodion's words, and he rolled his eyes.
"Co on, Rodion, you know this is the perfect way to find out who we're really dealing with. And now, here I am, all tied up and cozy—just like I planned." He wiggled slightly, feeling the rough rope around his wrists.
"Hey, you know I'm a sucker for adventure," Mikhailis quipped, wincing slightly as he tried to stretch his neck.
"Besides, it's not every day I get kidnapped by strangers in a fantas world."
Mikhailis grinned, despite the circumstances.
"Patience, Rodion. Let's at least et the folks who went through all this trouble to have as their guest."
The banter was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. The door to the room creaked open, and Mikhailis quickly closed his eyes halfway, pretending to still be struggling to regain full consciousness.
He could feel the presence of soone entering—soft footsteps, deliberate. The scent of sothing floral—lavender, maybe—drifted into the room. He opened his eyes fully to see a woman standing before him. She had an air of authority, her face partially hidden by a mask, and her sharp eyes were fixed on him. But he could sll the faint fragrance of floral perfu from her.
"So, the infamous consort of Queen Elowen finally wakes up," she said, her voice smooth but tinged with mockery.
Mikhailis raised an eyebrow, giving her a lazy smile.
"Infamous? I think 'charming' would be a better word, but I guess we can't all have the sa taste."
The woman remained unfazed, her gaze cold as she crossed her arms.
"I don't think you're in a position to joke, Mikhailis Volkov."
"Oh, you know my na. I feel flattered," Mikhailis replied, his voice light but his eyes searching. He had to stay composed, keep his guard up—sothing told him that this woman wasn't one to trifle with.
The woman stepped closer, her eyes narrowing.
"You can drop the act. We know about your modern technology—devices from your world that don't belong here."
Mikhailis blinked, feigning confusion.
He tilted his head slightly, wincing at the lingering ache in his neck.
"Modern technology? You must have the wrong guy. I've got nothing but a charming smile and a few bad jokes."
Internally, his mind was racing.
How did they know about his tech? But well, he already has a rough idea where the intel ca from.
Rodion's voice chid in.
Mikhailis kept his expression neutral, only allowing a confused frown to cross his face.
"Honestly, lady, I think you've got the wrong guy. All this 'modern technology' talk... it's creepy how much you seem to know about . What, have you been spying on while I take a bath too?"
The woman's lips curled into a smirk.
"Spying? You could say that. We know more about you than you think, Mikhailis. You're an outsider—a stranger in this world. We know when you sleep, when you eat, when you... indulge yourself in your fantasies about bugs and whatever else you fancy."
Mikhailis grimaced, shaking his head slightly.
"Alright, now that's just creepy. Seriously, you guys need a hobby."
The woman ignored his remark, her eyes cold as she continued.
"Now, let's make this simple. Who are you really, Mikhailis? And why did you co here? If you answer honestly, maybe I'll answer one of your questions in return."
Mikhailis's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze growing more serious.
"Who I am? Well, you seem to know more about than I do. As for why I'm here..." He paused, giving her a cold smile.
"Maybe you should tell first why you're so interested. You're clearly not here for my charming company."
The woman's eyes flickered with irritation, but she kept her composure. She took a deep breath, her voice gaining a passionate edge.
"You must understand, Mikhailis. You co from a world filled with technology that we can only dream of—technology that could change everything. Imagine the possibilities. We could harness that power to advance this world, to help people. We need your knowledge. We need you to help us."
Mikhailis raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the chair he was tied to.
"You know, if you wanted my help, maybe kidnapping wasn't the best way to start. Just saying. You're kind of doing the opposite of getting on my good side."
The woman laughed—a sharp, mocking sound.
"Your good side? You're nothing more than a tool—a consort whose only purpose is to provide an heir for the queen. You think you matter here? You're a ans to an end, nothing more."
Mikhailis's smile faded, his gaze sharpening.
"Is that so? Then I guess I'll just have to prove you wrong."
The woman stared at him for a mont, her eyes glinting with disdain. She turned, motioning to the n who had entered the room with her.
"Make him talk," she ordered, her voice cold.
"If he wants to play stubborn, then make him regret it."
With that, she walked out of the room, the heavy door slamming shut behind her. Mikhailis was left with two masked n, both of them carrying a variety of tools that looked far too sharp for comfort.
One of them stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as he eyed Mikhailis.
"You heard the lady. Let's see if we can get you to start talking, pretty boy."
Mikhailis looked at the two n, then sighed.
"You know, I'd love to chat, but I'm really not in the mood for pain today."
The second man sneered, holding up a wicked-looking blade.
"You don't have much of a choice, do you?"
Mikhailis watched as they approached, his eyes narrowing slightly. The two n were too busy admiring their tools to notice anything else, but Mikhailis's gaze flickered to the rope binding his wrists. He could see it—a faint, almost imperceptible movent. The rope was being eaten away, strand by strand.
Rodion's voice echoed softly in his mind.
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