From day forty-one onwards, the Hypnotist began working alongside the Imperial Anatomist, as although Riven still remained unconscious, it did not hamper the progress of either man, both of whom continued perfecting their respective foundations.
For roughly sixteen hours each day, Riven remained under the custody of the Imperial Anatomist and his assistants, as they continued carving his body while administering carefully measured medicines, refined minerals, beast marrow extracts, and restorative elixirs in preparation for the second stage of his reconstruction.
While for the remaining eight hours, Riven belonged entirely to the Hypnotist.
Unlike the Imperial Anatomist, whose hands were occupied with flesh and bone, the Hypnotist never once reached for a scalpel.
Instead, every morning, he quietly pulled a chair beside Riven before gently brushing the boy’s hair away from his forehead with almost fatherly affection.
"My sweet boy...
You are safe.
You have nothing to fear.
Rest peacefully.
Everything will be alright."
For hours, he spoke in the same calm, soothing tone, repeating hundreds of carefully selected phrases that, on the surface, appeared almost meaningless.
"You are growing.
Every day you become stronger.
Growth feels natural.
Learning feels effortless.
You welcome change.
Your heart is calm.
Your mind is at peace.
Your demeanor is that of a noble."
To an ordinary observer, the entire exercise would have appeared completely pointless.
After all, Riven remained unconscious throughout the process, incapable of hearing, understanding, or responding to a single word.
However...
What the ordinary observer failed to understand was that the sort of hypnosis the Hypnotist intended to perform had never concerned itself with the conscious mind.
The conscious mind existed to question, argue against, and reject unfamiliar ideas, as its primary purpose was to preserve a person’s existing understanding of themselves and the world around them.
The subconscious, however, served an entirely different purpose.
It did not concern itself with whether an idea was true or false.
Instead, it quietly measured familiarity, as every repeated thought, emotion, and association gradually strengthened the underlying pathways of logic until those ideas became increasingly natural for the conscious mind to accept.
This principle formed the very foundation of advanced hypnosis.
The Hypnotist’s goal was never to alter Riven’s identity through commands alone.
After all, such crude methods almost invariably failed.
Instead, his intention was to spend weeks, if not months, preparing the subconscious long before any genuine hypnosis ever began.
At present, every whisper he uttered served only a single purpose... to reduce resistance.
Like water slowly wearing away stone, every repetition of his words weakened the subconscious barriers protecting Riven’s existing identity, making his mind progressively more receptive to new patterns of thought once true hypnosis finally commenced.
So that by the time the first genuine suggestion was ever implanted...
Half the work would already have been completed, and Riven’s subconscious would be primed to accept it.
However, while both the Imperial Anatomist and the Hypnotist amiably cooperated over Riven’s joint custody and worked diligently toward producing the finest possible result...
The Imperial Anatomist gradually began noticing something deeply peculiar about his newfound colleague.
Whenever the Hypnotist stood beside Riven, he was the very picture of a gentleman.
His movements were graceful, his voice calm and reassuring, while even his smile carried a warmth that felt completely genuine, as though every ounce of affection he showed the unconscious boy came naturally to him.
It was as though he truly loved Riven like a parent would, as even the manner in which he brushed the boy’s hair aside, adjusted his blanket, or gently rested a hand upon his forehead was filled with a tenderness that bordered upon paternal affection.
Yet...
The moment he stepped away from Riven...
Something about him changed.
At first, the Imperial Anatomist struggled to identify exactly what it was, since after completing his sessions with Riven, the man almost immediately retired to his temporary quarters, asking only for Karen to accompany him.
However, during the brief walk from Riven’s bedside to the door, subtle cracks invariably began appearing beneath his composed exterior.
Sometimes his jaw tightened so forcefully that the muscles beneath his weathered skin visibly bulged, while at other times an involuntary twitch appeared beneath his left eye before disappearing just as suddenly as it had arrived.
Occasionally, his fingers curled into trembling fists before slowly relaxing a heartbeat later, while his breathing also became noticeably heavier, as though every step he took required him to suppress an overwhelming impulse buried somewhere deep within himself.
Each occurrence lasted only a few fleeting moments.
Yet taken together, they painted the portrait of a man engaged in a relentless battle that nobody else could see.
It was almost as though the gentlemanly facade he presented to the world demanded every ounce of concentration he possessed, and the farther he walked away from Riven, the more difficult it became for him to maintain it.
The Imperial Anatomist observed these changes silently for several days.
Being a man who had spent more than three decades studying the human body, he understood better than most that even the smallest involuntary movement often betrayed truths that words never could.
A trembling finger, a twitching eyelid, or an uneven breath meant nothing to an ordinary observer, yet to the Imperial Anatomist they were symptoms, each revealing truths words often concealed.
Then, on the forty-fourth day of working together, unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, the Imperial Anatomist quietly followed the Hypnotist toward his temporary quarters.
What he witnessed there left even him stunned.
As the great clock struck noon, the Hypnotist calmly closed the book in his hands before turning toward Karen.
"It is time."
He spoke with the same gentle smile he always wore.
"If you would be so kind."
Without asking a single question, Karen immediately retrieved a thick leather restraint jacket from one of the storage cabinets.
The Imperial Anatomist watched silently as the Hypnotist removed his robes before voluntarily extending both arms.
The heavy straps were tightened one after another across his chest, around his waist, and over his shoulders until escape became physically impossible.
Next came a reinforced steel bite collar, secured firmly around his jaw before a final lock clicked into place.
Only then did Karen escort him toward a heavy iron cage occupying one corner of the room.
The Hypnotist entered willingly.
CLICK
The iron door slammed shut.
The lock turned, and Karen quickly exited the room.
For a while, nothing happened, as nearly thirty seconds passed in complete silence.
Then, without the slightest warning, the gentleman vanished.
His entire body convulsed violently as a guttural snarl erupted from somewhere deep within his throat, the warmth disappearing from his silver eyes almost instantly before being replaced by bloodshot fury.
"AAAAAGHHH!"
"I DON’T WANT TO BECOME YOU, FATHER!
I WANT TO GO OUT AND PLAY!
WHY CAN’T I PLAY?
FATHER... WHY CAN I NOT BE FREE?"
The man yelled, before throwing himself against the cage violently, as the last remnants of coherent thought finally disappeared from his voice, as whatever humanity remained within the man seemed to collapse entirely.
SLAM!
CRASH!
The creature repeatedly threw itself against the cage with mindless abandon, no longer bearing even the slightest resemblance to the refined scholar who had spent the morning whispering comforting words into Riven’s ear.
"GRRRRRR!"
"SSSHHH—LSLSLSL!"
It snarled and drooled relentlessly, biting furiously against the steel muzzle until blood stained its lips, while clawing frantically at the restraints binding its arms as though every instinct within it demanded freedom.
Only occasionally did fragments of language escape between the animalistic growls.
"No..."
"...mine..."
"...stop..."
"...don’t..."
"...get out..."
Each word was swallowed almost immediately by another explosion of feral rage.
The Imperial Anatomist stood frozen.
Goosebumps slowly crept across his arms.
At that moment...
Everything finally made sense.
The unsettling smile, the constant feeling that something was fundamentally wrong no matter how composed the man appeared, and the strange discomfort he had never been able to explain all suddenly made sense.
’So that’s why...’
’He’s not suppressing his emotions...’
’He’s suppressing another person.’
The realization sent a chill racing down the Imperial Anatomist’s spine.
No wonder the man possessed such profound mastery over hypnosis.
Every waking moment of his life was spent fighting a battle within his own mind, suppressing another identity that desperately sought control.
For the briefest of moments, the Imperial Anatomist found himself wondering what kind of life could possibly reduce a man to such a tragic existence.
How had he become like this?
And if his mastery over hypnosis truly surpassed everyone else’s...
Why had he never been able to save himself?
Those questions lingered within him for many days.
Yet despite his curiosity...
He never asked.
The two men had only recently begun working together, and they were nowhere near familiar enough for the Imperial Anatomist to pry into wounds that were clearly so deeply personal.
For now, as long as the Hypnotist’s fractured mind never interfered with his work on Riven...
He chose to let the matter rest.