The cell was dim, reeking of stale blood and burnt potion residue. Ein sat on the cold ground, back against the crumbling stone wall, his once-sharp gaze now clouded with rage and humiliation. His ears and tail—his pride—were gone, stripped from him by Aaron’s final mercy. As he traced the old scars on his hands, a shadow stepped through the iron bars of the chamber. It was him—an old friend from high school, someone who once admired Ein’s charm before everything rotted beneath the surface. “Didn’t think I’d find you like this,” the friend muttered, half in disbelief, half in disappointment. Ein looked up slowly, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Come to gloat? Or beg to follow me again?” His voice was raspier now, cracked with bitterness and the lingering weight of failure. The friend didn’t answer right away, instead glancing around at the discarded pages of Michael’s old tome. “You really lost it, huh?” he said, stepping in closer. Ein stood, wincing slightly from the wounds still healing across his back. “I didn’t lose. I was betrayed. They were too blind to see what I could’ve made this world.” The friend didn’t respond—but the look in his eyes held a flicker of sympathy… or perhaps curiosity. “You still believe in all that Alpha supremacist crap?” the friend asked, almost daring him to double down. Ein stared at him, something unhinged glinting behind his smile. “I believe in power… and those who can’t take it don’t deserve it.” He walked forward, until only a few inches separated them. “Help me,” he whispered, low and venomous, “and I can take it all back. I’ll rebuild—stronger, smarter. They’ll regret ever thinking they could leave me for dead.” The old friend hesitated—but in Ein’s gaze, even broken and human, there was still that dangerous spark… and it was contagious.