Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 135: Free (1)

They were in a perimeter compound.

No towers. No walls. Just modular bunkers, rows of vehicle shells, and two comm towers with blinking lights tracing a rhythm too fast for normal use.

Merlin’s eyes narrowed slightly.

’Signal masking.’

The wind bit across his cheek, not cold, but sharp. The scent of sand and exhaust.

A base, not a prison.

And not temporary.

The guard ahead turned once. Motioned with his chin. Merlin followed.

To the left, another building.

Smaller.

Not a barracks.

Not medical.

The kind of room built to store things too inconvenient to keep near anything sensitive.

He was brought to the threshold.

The door opened.

Inside, concrete flooring, metal benches bolted to the walls, one low light strip overhead.

And five faces.

Mae. Dion. Seraphina. Elara. Nathan.

No one spoke when he entered.

He stepped in.

The guards closed the door behind him.

Still, no one moved.

Merlin’s eyes went to each of them in sequence.

Mae’s leg was shaking. Not from nerves. From the tail end of adrenaline refusing to fade.

Dion’s elbow was wrapped. Improvised. Not treated.

Seraphina sat like a wolf between fights, coiled, unreadable.

Elara didn’t sit. She stood with her back to the corner, arms crossed tight, eyes locked on the door like she’d been keeping count of footsteps.

And Nathan—

Nathan was already looking at him.

Expression flat. Hands in his lap. Not tense. Not blank. Just... lacking a frame of reference.

Merlin didn’t speak.

Didn’t ask.

Didn’t explain.

He crossed the room and lowered himself to the far bench.

No flinch. No stretch.

Just seated.

The silence held.

Then Elara broke it.

"You’re hurt."

Not a question.

Merlin nodded once. "Not enough to matter."

"That’s not what I asked."

He looked at her.

But didn’t answer.

She didn’t ask again.

Seraphina shifted forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees.

"What did they ask?"

Merlin glanced at the ceiling.

"Everything."

Dion made a noise low in his throat. Almost a laugh, but not sharp enough to cut the air.

"And what’d you give them?"

"Nothing."

Mae didn’t lift her head, but her voice came through, quiet, worn.

"Good."

Nathan didn’t speak.

He kept watching.

Like Merlin was something halfway between a stranger and a ghost.

Merlin finally let his gaze meet his.

Still no recognition.

Still no flicker.

He didn’t let it show on his face, but it cracked somewhere under the ribs.

[The Messenger is silent.]

[The Smiling Witness does not smile.]

[No votes are cast.]

—

Elara’s pulse hitched as the heavy sliding door opened again. She crouched, back pressed against the cold concrete wall of the holding cell, drawing every inch of her attention to the guard who stepped in.

He looked like he held authority, not a field officer, but serious, practiced. The rest of the group froze too. Behind their glass partition, they watched.

He spoke once into a small machine clipped to his collar, clear words in a language none of them understood.

And then he turned his head toward Elara and the others, his gaze searching until it landed on each of their faces.

Another line into the collar. She tried to read his intent in the pause, the cut of his cheekbones, the set of his jaw, but there was nothing for her to interpret.

She watched him drop a small tray through the door’s slot, metal cup, two small bowls of stew, and walk out again.

They stared at the door until it closed. Mae’s hand fluttered to her throat, Seraphina’s jaw tightened, and Dion let out a quiet breath, half-sigh. Finally, Mae spoke. "He... he wants us to eat."

Dion shook his head, confused. "Eat? Like dinner—this isn’t feeding."

Elara bent to the tray, took a spoon, scooped a dull brown broth. The metal warmed her fingers. "We wait." She swallowed once. "And watch."

—

They reached a reinforced room, the kind built to hold someone important, someone dangerous.

The door slid open, and Merlin stepped into the cool clean space. Military green walls, strip lights overhead, a table at the center.

Two men behind it, mid-30s, suits, stern faces. One wore a black cut of hair, military short, jaw tight. The other sat back in his chair, fingers steepled, as if waiting to dissect words.

The guards positioned themselves by the door and moved out. The negotiators exchanged a glance. Then the standing man began.

"We have questions."

Merlin nodded once.

The man spoke again. "You came through a Tier-Seven emergent portal in restricted territory. You claim no affiliation with any known political or magical faction."

Merlin’s voice was even, measured. "Correct."

The translator buzzed again.

He waited.

They leaned forward.

—

In the holding cell, Nathan sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. His head tilted, his hands folded in his lap, watching. Through the window he saw Merlin enter the room.

No fear showed on his face, but Nathan felt it anyway. That loss said something. Something quiet, but infinite.

Elara stood beside the cell wall, leaning on it. "Told you..." Her voice fell when she saw Nathan’s face. She swallowed back the rest.

Mae turned to Nathan. "Does he—" but the question caught in her throat.

Seraphina lit a pale matchstick of expression: she watched Merlin’s reflection in the glass, not the man himself.

—

Inside the room, the negotiator with the steepled fingers uncurled a note. The other man slid forward.

"We do not intend to escalate." He showed Merlin the paper. It was an order for deportation or deep interrogation, he didn’t know yet. "We can offer you safe passage. On one condition."

Merlin’s eyes didn’t rise from the paper. "My companions?"

"Cannot leave with you," the suit said. "This is your lone mission now. They are on trial."

Merlin looked up. "Trial by whom?"

"This district council." He used that tone of rehearsed lines. "For violating sovereign borders. Activating emergent portals. Smuggling foreign assets."

He paused, soft now. "But we don’t want blood on us."

Merlin let that sink. "So you want intelligence, answers—an exchange." He toyed with a rivet on the table.

"Exactly." The other man spoke. "Tell us what you know. You walked here—your companions and you. We can believe that. But portals don’t open for nothing. Where did you come from, what did you bring through, who sent you?"

Merlin leaned back. "Naming everything poisons it. You don’t want my memory—you want control. I can’t give you either."

They exchanged glances. The steepled suit unfolded his fingers. "You want them free."

Merlin didn’t say yes.

"If you give me... When I say ’answer questions’, I mean: yes or no, just facts. Not memories, not explanations. Yes or no."

Merlin pressed his lips. "Three yes-or-no answers. And then—release my companions. And a guarantee of non-retaliation. No imprisonment, no handover to another nation."

They looked at each other. Then the man nodded once.

"Name."

Merlin blinked. "No."

Behind those faces, he saw bone-sharp tension. But he held it.

The other man didn’t flinch. "That’s a negotiation term, yes or no?"

Merlin held his gaze. "No."

—

Back in the cell, the others shifted. Nathan moved to the door. "He’s... refusing?" Elara asked.

Mae and Seraphina looked at each other. Dion just stayed quiet, but his arm found her shoulder.

Nathan sat back. "He agreed to something," he whispered, "but nobody knows how much."

The air hung between them.

—

In the interrogation room, mechanical silence pushed against Merlin’s back. The papers slid slowly between the men.

One paper went back. The other man’s voice was precise. "Let’s try again."

They began listing.

"Did you activate the portal intentionally?"

Merlin did not flinch. "No."

Second paper. "Did you know the security at the portal location was restricted military zone?"

"Yes."

Third. "Is your group affiliated with the Academy?"

"No."

They paused.

"More? One more."

"Our captive, Colonel Talryn, pressed you earlier. You said you’d be useful. Are you offering actionable intelligence we might use for defense?"

Merlin paused. He looked at the man. "Yes."

They nodded. The suit folded his paper quietly. "Good."

The standing man rose. "Your companions will be released within the next hour. The fine print—they remain bound by no-travel orders. You remain our primary detainee. You will answer three more yes-or-no questions within the next two days, or your release will be forfeit."

Merlin nodded once. "Understood."

"They’ll bring you your companions’ bindings soon."

He stood. The man reached out, a thin line of paper. Merlin took it, the paperwork necessary to drop detention on them. It was enough for now.

The negotiator gave him a final look, then turned away. "That’s it."

Guard bodies moved through the room. The folding chairs stampeded.

Merlin stepped to the door.

—

Outside, in the hall, Nathan, Mae, Seraphina, Dion, Elara stood as one watchtower of quiet.

The guard emerged first, followed by Talryn, followed by Merlin. They all stood together like broken columns in a fallen ruin. Nathan stepped forward.

"Elara, open the bindings," Merlin said.

She reached for the cuffs. They unlocked with a quiet pop. The group pulled free.

Mae rubbed her wrist. "We’re free?"

Merlin looked back at Talryn. She stood stiff in the corridor, face flattened, young but hard. So he nodded.

Talryn replied with nothing. No nod. Then she turned, vanished behind a door with her soldiers.

Nathan’s voice hit Merlin’s shoulder. Quiet. "This exchange... we owe you."

Merlin felt the weight in his chest. "I owed them nothing." He looked at Nathan’s face, no memory, but something there, trust. "You forgot me before. Now you don’t. But one day... you’ll remember."

Nathan nodded once, jaw tight.

Seraphina exhaled tension. "We go back to Titanos wilderness?"

"Yes." Merlin answered. And meant it. This was not the academy. This was not controlled. This was untamed. Military, yes, but only land. Not orders. No walls or scripts.

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