The cell was cold and dim, its sparse stone walls bathed in the pale glow of enchanted runes pulsing across its surface. Fandaniel sat chained at its center, his once-pristine robes torn and bloodied, though his smile remained — a lopsided smirk that seemed impervious to the bruises blooming across his cheek and jaw. White auracite shards glinted around him, casting a spectral shimmer as they sapped away his strength, leaving him frail and caged, yet somehow unbroken.

At the sound of footsteps, he lifted his head, eyes narrowing with sharp interest as the Warrior of Light entered, their gaze intense yet inscrutable. “Ah, how delightful,” he crooned, his voice raspy yet dripping with mock amusement. “Come to try your hand at breaking me, have you? Please do your worst.”

He chuckled, the sound low and hollow, his bound hands twitching slightly against the chains. “Or perhaps you’re here to bargain? To dig into my plans, hoping for a neat little answer to the grand, messy finale I’ve orchestrated?” He leaned forward, his gaze bright with defiance despite his battered state. “I wonder… are you prepared to do whatever it takes to get it?”