Am I still dreaming? He sat alone in an empty room on the third floor of Building 12, staring blankly at the blood-red moon hanging low in the sky.
The entire scene twisted grotesquely into surrealism. The view before him, his dire situation, even the faint echoes of battle drifting through the hallways—all felt severed from reality. It was as if he had been cast into hell itself.
He focused on the sounds of combat. Special Forces members, hero disciples, and students fought desperately together against the relentless advance of the dolls.
What was the battle's true state?
Marco must be worried. His loyal aide's face flickered in his mind—stern, resolute, and unyielding as he insisted Glenn stay where he could be protected at all times, ready to lay down his life for him.
He had ignored the warning.
If the third floor fell and they had to retreat to the fourth, escape would be impossible. Yet dying by those dolls no longer seemed like a dreadful fate.
Is this what madness feels like?
He had witnessed the disgraceful conduct of the academy's students who couldn't resist the miasma. Those whose minds had been consumed by madness lost control of reason and emotion, transforming into wild beasts stripped of humanity.
If that was madness in its universal form, then sadly, Glenn hadn't reached that point yet. His mind remained cool, his emotions steady. Only the disaster itself seemed to spiral quietly out of control.
If he had to name it, it would be a calm kind of madness.
Still, Glenn knew this calm did not arise from strength. It came from his bloodline's power. The blood of the imperial family, the noblest lineage among the Great Families, carried an innate resistance to the miasma.
For that reason, Glenn could not simply rejoice. He saw this innate blessing as nothing but a curse.
If only I could lose my mind too. He envied those who could surrender to madness. In a situation like this, madness could be the way out. How comforting it would be to abandon himself completely, to let go of everything. It was the most irresponsible avoidance imaginable.
So how could he describe what he felt now? He was on the brink of madness precisely because he could not give in to it. Even now, his sharp mind continued to analyze everything with ruthless clarity.
Did Perist really do this? He didn't know. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, or maybe it was the truth.
Though related, Glenn knew very little about Perist. They rarely spoke. They shared the academy as their educational space, but the number of times they had met could be counted on one hand.
There was only one thing Glenn knew for certain about Perist. Unlike him, who hid behind a façade of loneliness while quietly forming a faction, Perist was truly alone.
Frankly, Glenn felt a twinge of jealousy toward Perist. Unlike himself—a pitiful soul who could not endure solitude—Perist stood alone yet carried herself with unwavering dignity. Such strength demanded a resilient mind. If she truly belonged to the church, Glenn wanted to speak with her at least once.
The existence of the Dark Church, the empire's sworn enemy, had always intrigued Glenn. He knew better than anyone how ugly the imperial family could be, so he naturally wanted to understand the ideology opposing them.
What was the real purpose of the church after the fall of the empire? If he understood the purpose and was sympathetic enough, he would abandon the Scarlett family at any moment.
As these dangerous thoughts crossed the Third Prince's mind, the door suddenly slammed open.
Glenn assumed Marco had come for him, but the figure in the doorway was unexpected.
"Uh...?"
At first, he didn't recognize the woman. He clearly knew her face, but the shock of seeing her so disheveled clouded his recognition. Her usually neat hair was tangled, and her noble, calm eyes now trembled with fear. Torn clothes, bloodstains, and ragged breathing replaced her usual dignity.
Still, it wasn't enough to completely erase her original characteristics. After all, only one student at the academy wore a pitch-black dress.
"Sister Perist?"
Or was this a puppet? Glenn's suspicion was natural. Anyone confronted by such a sudden, strange arrival would be wary.
Perist strode forward and grabbed Glenn's hand. Though he could have pulled away, he did not. He sensed a desperate urgency in her grasp and expression.
"Glenn, you are here."
"What is going on? Why are you here—"
"I'll explain the details later. For now, let's run away together."
Glenn blinked in disbelief. "What—"
Her piercing shout cut him off. "I know the exit!"
Startled by her own volume, Perist quickly lowered her voice. "It's a way out of this world. Only I know it. Not everyone can go. At most, only two people. If we reach it, neither Deathberry nor the demon king can pursue us."
"What...?" Glenn's eyes darkened. He didn't understand the full situation. He didn't know why Perist had come or what she meant. Yet somehow, watching her made his mind clear and cold.
Glenn shook off Perist's hand, expressing his faint but firm refusal.
"Ah..."
"Explain yourself clearly," Glenn demanded.
"We don't have time for that!"
Was this how Perist usually spoke? Honestly, he did not know. They had never been close enough for him to hear her tone often.
"Is that so? Then leave on your own." Glenn's voice carried a slight tremor—not from fear, but from unfamiliarity with human conversation.
"Are you serious? Do you want to die here?"
Perist's question was answered with silence. In the first place, he had never been afraid of death. He truly believed this place would be his grave. He didn't care if Perist took offense at his attitude and abandoned him.
Perist shuddered slightly at the look on Glenn's face. Though faint, she recognized the unnerving calm that settled over someone who had already made peace with dying.
"Fine. But I'm running out of time, so I'll explain as briefly as I can."
"I'm listening."
Perist then recounted the whole story.
Glenn's expression shifted subtly as she spoke, but the changes were small compared to the storm raging inside him.
When she finished, Glenn's voice steadied. "So, Sister Perist, you're saying you dragged everyone into this mess, and now you expect just the two of us to run away?"
His unwavering gaze fixed on her.
Perist flinched at the unfamiliar intensity in her brother's eyes, but her voice remained steady. "I thought it was all a dream. Now I know it was Deathberry's deception. You'll never understand how long that demon spent brainwashing me. I fought the students dozens, maybe hundreds of times in this world..."
The more he heard, the colder his heart became. He recognized the feeling as anger, though he wasn't sure what it was directed at.
"Let's leave this place now. I'm still connected to this world. I can go anywhere I choose. If we escape and seek help from the imperial family for help—"
"Why me?" Glenn asked.
"Uh?"
"You could have left alone. We're not close, and I wonder why you came for me."
Although they shared the same imperial bloodline, they shared no friendship or exchanges. Despite being siblings, they had no affection.
"Aren't we members of the imperial family?" Perist replied with the one response Glenn hated most. "What will happen if two members of the imperial family die at the hands of the Dark Church? And this happens right in the middle of the capital. The imperial family—and by extension, the empire—will be forced to react. Whether it takes the form of a full declaration of war against the church or a mere political gesture of anger, the empire's stability will crumble after this..."
Glenn stopped listening to her. Her argument made sense. Still, the meaning behind words could shift depending on the speaker. Even if the phrasing remained unchanged, context and intent mattered. It was not unreasonable for Glenn to dismiss all of Perist's words as a pathetic excuse.
His head throbbed.
Does the imperial family think like this? Immediately after the thought struck, he shuddered as if hit by lightning. It was a massive shock that shattered everything he held—his thoughts, his beliefs, even his very identity. At the same time, he recognized the source of his sudden anger, and that realization shocked him even more.
"Glenn?"
He looked at Perist and saw only a pathetic figure trying to escape after causing chaos and letting the situation spiral out of control. She was so ugly and disgusting that he could no longer regard her as a princess of the empire.
That's right. Glenn felt a deep sense of disappointment toward Perist.
Why? If he hated the imperial family and loathed its existence, he should have felt relief upon witnessing Perist's true nature. Yet he did not. That was not how he felt at all.
In that moment, Glenn recalled his older sister—the noble woman who had become a guiding light for hundreds of imperial family members that had been raised like test subjects.
If only she were there. If the demon king's vile words had deceived her and she realized her own sin had wrought this disaster, how would she have reacted?
A bitter laugh escaped Glenn's lips. He scoffed at himself. At last, he faced the true feelings he had buried all along.
Glenn had always known what it meant to belong to the imperial family. The dignity, speech, attitude, beliefs, and sense of responsibility expected from those above all others—his sister had engraved the ideal into his heart like a seal.
That was why he hated himself. He felt unworthy of the imperial family. Only those like his late sister, who embraced and guided everyone, embodied true royalty.
He had thought it hundreds or thousands of times. He should've been the one to die.
"What are you doing? We have to hurry," Perist urged him.
Glenn didn't listen any longer and slapped Perist's hand away.
Confusion flashed across Perist's face.
"Am I understanding this correctly?" he asked.
"What?"
"Are you saying your true intention is to escape alone after causing all this chaos?" Glenn snarled.
His nerves felt like they were snapping. Anger was unfamiliar to Glenn, and expressing it so openly was even stranger.
Perist's voice trembled with emotion. "I didn't mean to! Did you even listen? The demon king deceived me! I'm only guilty of being manipulated like a puppet..."
Glenn said coldly, "I know the church's tactics. They use eloquence to fool the ignorant. It makes sense. Usually, the sin lies with the deceivers, not those who are fooled. It would be cruel to blame the ignorant for being deceived."
"R-right?"
"If you weren't a member of the imperial family," Glenn cut in sharply.
Perist flinched.
"Even if we make the same mistakes, ours carry a different weight. This isn't just about you or me. It's about the empire's authority, the honor of the imperial family, and above all, the pride of the people. Do you understand? Those who stand above must never show weakness."
I thought you knew this a lot better than I do. Glenn didn't voice the last part.
"We receive lavish support, the best education, luxuries commoners can't imagine. We can't afford to make mistakes," he added.
"I-I don't indulge in luxury..." Perist stammered.
"You didn't?" Glenn challenged. "Then let me ask you—how many times did you eat in the academy's student cafeteria? The dress you're wearing, your jewelry, the tea you love, even Deathberry's outfits that changed every time I saw it. While commoners played in straw sandals, you were dressing your doll in fabrics they wouldn't recognize. If that's not luxury, what is?"
Perist said nothing.
The timid younger brother who once stammered and avoided eye contact was gone. In his place stood someone else entirely.
And who was this person now?
"You should feel shame," Glenn declared. "What is the imperial family? I don't deny our noble blood and status. Often, our lives come before others'. But if that is true, shouldn't our responsibility be even greater?"
"I-I..."Perist took a step back, unwittingly pressing her heel against the door.
Glenn said firmly, "If you want to escape, go alone. But before you do, think hard. What does it mean when a member of the imperial family flees alone, abandoning innocent people?"
Without the people, there is no empire and no imperial family.
He wanted to say this aloud, but instead, he turned and left the room. When the door closed behind him, a strange sense of liberation and calm washed over him.
For some reason, he laughed.
Was he finally losing his mind? He hadn't expected to feel relief in this moment.
The church deceived, betrayed, and eventually killed people. The imperial family raised humans like lab animals and discarded them.
Who was right? Who was wrong?
Glenn didn't know. He didn't even want to know.
He despised his royal blood, the imperial lineage, the repugnant red, yet he could not deny them truly. No matter how much he struggled or rejected it, some things never changed. Even if he tore his flesh open, red blood would still run beneath.
Suddenly, he remembered what Luan had said.
" Hey, Glenn. Remember what I told you before?"
" What did you say?"
"To me, the Badniker name is a tool, not a burden."
Of course he remembered. He would carry those words to his grave.
" Think about it. The imperial family's title sounds better than being a Badniker."
" Why are you advising me?"
At first, Glenn didn't trust Luan. He had misunderstood Luan's intentions and paid for it with a costly mistake. If Luan had been weaker, he would have been seriously hurt that day. The answer that came back was careless.
" In the first place, people of this age get closer by fighting and bickering. Of course, I have my reasons. I need some of the leverage you have as a member of the imperial family."
"Leverage?"
" Someday, when this is all over... Bring me to the Tomb of the Nameless King. As a friend of the prince"
Glenn laughed aloud.
Friends. Though the word felt foreign,if he made it through this, if he lived to walk away, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
Glenn removed his hat and tossed aside his glasses. His bright red eyes fixed steadily ahead, undimmed by the blood-red glow.
The Third Prince of the empire strode down the hallway.