This is different.

Instead of being killed with a snap of his fingers, or sent into another hellhole he had with a wave of his hand, your feet hit solid ground. Grass licked the edges of your shoes as wind rolled freely around the halfway cloudy afternoon sky.

Those challenges, the ones that made you bleed and hurt— they were very real. But this moment seemed so fake. The gauntlet was still stuck to your hand, it’s glow not painfully dim, nor blindingly bright. Blood from cuts dripped onto the glove, shading the turquoise stone. But when trying to assess the injury, you couldn’t find any— wounds had closed and bruises had faded.

Why? You had to ask, but found yourself paralyzed by your lips. This…Admin’s back was to you. He said nothing, his gray-gloved hands tightly gripping one another behind his back, his head lowered as if in disappointment.

But he was also remorseful.

Since when had he ever shown anything more than sadistic enjoyment? Or given signs that lack harmful emotion? It eluded you. And it eluded him too.

“…I am making an exception. This once.”

He sighed, his voice tight with restrained anger and sharp pain.