Chapter 90: Ready to Talk
Lucas watched the man’s reaction with the same measured intensity he had held from the moment he stepped into the dungeon. The vial, now back in the safety of his robe, had done what he needed it to, it had awakened not just dormant Qi, but something far more potent in the prisoner: desperation. He had seen it countless times in both lives. When a man loses everything, he either breaks or becomes dangerous. But when you give such a man a glimpse of hope, even a sliver, you gain power over him unlike any chain or cell could provide.
He took a step closer, his voice low and unhurried, but carrying the weight of unspoken consequence. "If you’re going to have any chance at cultivation again... if you truly want your power back... your place in this world... then you’re going to tell me everything."
The man didn’t respond immediately, but Lucas saw it, the flicker in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw. He knew the words before they were spoken. Of course he did. That was always the cost, there was no miracle without price, no redemption without blood. Lucas could almost see the calculation behind his stare. The pride, resistance, ingrained loyalty to a cause that had discarded him the moment he became broken. He was just a cripple now, an echo of the terrifying force he once was. Even the people he had once called allies had moved on, perhaps they had already forgotten him. Either way, he was no longer essential to the mission.
Lucas leaned down, just enough to ensure their eyes were locked.
"You know it’s come to this," he said. "That’s the price. If you want a second chance, if you want to reclaim what you lost, then you’re going to give me everything. From the beginning to the end, the plan and conspiracy. The ones behind it and the real power in the shadows."
Still, the man said nothing. But his breathing had changed. He wasn’t angry or defiant, he was thinking. Lucas knew that look better than most. The man wasn’t wrestling with betrayal. He was wrestling with usefulness, his own, and what little remained of it.
"You refuse to speak, to compromise the mission, hoping to die a martyr for a cause that already moved on without you," Lucas continued, his tone now cutting. "But what good is that to you? What do you gain from it? You think they’ll honor your sacrifice? No, You’re already forgotten, dispensable, and if they succeed, if their plan works without you, you’re still a cripple rotting in chains. You’ll have no place in their victory....mo place at all."
He stood upright again, allowing the words to settle like dust around them. "But... you have a choice. Switch allegiances and compromise. Tell us what we need to know, and you won’t just survive this. You’ll return stronger and whole. You’ll rise again, not as their discarded weapon, but as ours, and we don’t throw away what’s useful."
He had already planted the seed, and it was beginning to grow. Hope was a dangerous thing in the hands of the broken. And Lucas knew how to shape it into a blade.
He didn’t need to convince the man any further, the truth was already choking him.