Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)
Chapter 405 - 399: Bond

Chapter 405: Chapter 399: Bond

Gabriel didn’t move.

The old Emperor’s words seemed to echo in a chamber far larger than this one, brushing against the invisible seams of the shard itself. He felt them in his pulse, in the fine hairs along his arms lifting, in the taste of copper and ozone at the back of his throat.

Freedom.

Gabriel’s gaze sharpened, studying the man before him. He saw now the subtle signs he had missed in childhood, how Goliath’s mind had never been broken, only contained. The nobles had called him a husk, and Olivier had paraded him as a puppet, but here... in the splintered ether of this manufactured world, he stood with the stillness of a blade waiting to be drawn.

The emperor stepped closer to Gabriel and patted his shoulder like a proud father. "You chose the next emperor well. I’m proud of you."

Gabriel felt the weight of that hand settle on his shoulder, steady and warm despite the tremor in Goliath’s fingers.

For a moment, the years between then and now collapsed, the nights spent in whispered strategy over faded maps, the candlelight pooling across Goliath’s scarred knuckles as he sketched out impossible plans, the quiet, unshakable faith he’d placed in a boy who had nothing but anger and instinct.

Gabriel’s throat tightened. He remembered the first time he’d been called into this man’s private study, how Goliath had closed the door against the vultures of court and said, softly, ’You see what they don’t. Let’s make it count.’

A warmth, rare and unbidden, crept through Gabriel’s chest, cutting through the cold edges of the shard.

His lips curved faintly, something sharp and fond layered together. "I learned from the best," he said, voice low.

Goliath’s golden eyes softened, and in them Gabriel saw not a fallen emperor, not a pawn in Olivier’s game, but the man who had once crouched beside him over those same maps, who had spoken to him not as a subject, not as a weapon, but as a son.

"You were always meant for more than their leash," Goliath murmured, his hand giving Gabriel’s shoulder a final, firm squeeze. "And Damian... he will build what we only dreamed of. Because you told him how."

Gabriel held his gaze, the shard’s false world trembling faintly around them, and for the first time since stepping into this place, the bitter taste in his mouth gave way to something steadier.

"Then I won’t waste what you taught me," Gabriel said softly.

The old emperor’s smile deepened, faint but real, lined with pride and a weariness that had been decades in the making. "Good," Goliath murmured, his voice roughened by age and too many secrets. "Now, let’s do it again."

Gabriel’s eyes flickered, a breath of sharp amusement cutting through his guarded calm. "Do I have to relive my memories to get out? Or is it enough to stall Olivier long enough?"

Goliath’s hand slipped from his shoulder, the cane tapping lightly against the stone as he stepped back. His expression grew distant, thoughtful. "Well... it’s hard to tell. I’m here because he absorbed my soul. Peter and the rest you’ve seen here..." he gestured loosely toward the echoing hall beyond, "...they are only fragments, creations of his will. He’ll die with the shard."

Gabriel’s voice softened, cautious. "And you?"

A low, rough laugh broke from Goliath, not bitter but almost fond. "Me? Boy, I’m not that easy to erase. I am bound to the Empire’s ward, the same way Damian’s soul is... and you..." he tilted his head, eyes gleaming with an old, sharp light. "...you are bound to Damian. That tether is stronger than anything Olivier could ever build."

Gabriel let that sink in, the weight of it shifting something deep in his chest. The shard around them hummed faintly, like a strained string pulled tight. "So," he said after a moment, "this isn’t Olivier’s original plan?

Goliath snorted, lips twisting into something that was both tired and amused. "Son," he said, his voice low and certain, "Olivier is anything but original. He only steals and stitches together what he doesn’t understand."

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, his mind already running ahead, piecing through angles, exits, weapons hidden in words. "Then we use that against him," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

"Exactly." Goliath’s tone softened, taking on that familiar cadence Gabriel remembered from nights before the rebellion. "We’ll give him something to choke on while you carve your way out. When you go back, Gabriel... you finish what we started. You don’t let him touch the Empire again."

Gabriel’s gaze flicked to the lantern light, watching how it trembled, how the edges of the room wavered as though the shard itself was listening. "I believe Olivier used a combination of my memories and his. Certain places... feel wrong, but familiar. Certain moments repeat, but not exactly as they were." His hand flexed at his side, as though testing a blade’s weight. "I’ve contacted Damian’s Shadows faster than I ever did before... and I’m curious to know if he even exists in this world."

Goliath’s cane tapped softly against the stone, a measured rhythm. He studied Gabriel for a long moment, and then his smile deepened, sharp and sad all at once.

"Oh, he exists," the Emperor said finally, leaning closer, voice a conspiratorial rasp. "Olivier couldn’t erase him from your mind and soul even if he tried. " Goliath’s eyes glinted with something like dark amusement. "He will be harder to find. Olivier knows better than to let a shadow of Damian walk freely."

"You will," Goliath said, voice steady, certain in a way that made the air itself feel heavier. He straightened slowly, one hand tightening on the cane, the other gesturing faintly to the chamber around them. "But not the one Olivier expect..."

Goliath’s lips curved into that old strategist’s smile Gabriel remembered so well, the one that once turned the tide of a losing war.

"...you can contact Damian through your bond."

"What?"