8. Interrogations and Ulterior Motives

Futoria, with her piercing gaze and regal demeanor, took the reins of the interrogation, her words sharp as blades as she probed Titus for answers. "You seem rather jovial for someone in your predicament," she remarked, her voice laced with a frosty edge. She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me, Titus, what role do you play in Donny's vanishing act?"

Each word was enunciated with precision, her interrogation akin to a finely orchestrated symphony, every note aimed at unraveling the truth. Titus's smile widened, and he leaned in as if sharing a secret, his eyes gleaming with malevolent glee.

"Jovial? Why, Futoria, I'm ecstatic," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He leaned back, his laughter filling the carriage. "Donny... let's just say he's found a new purpose." He paused, savoring the tension in the air before leaning forward again, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "As for your squads, well, they're experiencing something... transformative."

Futoria's eyes narrowed further, and she kept her gaze locked on him, unwavering. "Transformative?" she echoed, her voice cold and calculating. "What have you done, Titus?"

He leaned back once more, throwing his head back with a laugh that echoed off the wooden walls of the carriage. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough," he replied, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and malice. "You see, I've got plans—big plans. And those plans include making sure every single one of you understands what it means to cross me."

With exaggerated movements, he shifted his position, leaning in and out of the conversation at points that seemed to bring him particular joy. His glee was palpable, his satisfaction evident in every word he spoke. The soldiers exchanged nervous glances, the air thick with tension, as they tried to decipher the meaning behind his cryptic words.

The atmosphere in the carriage grew heavier, every creak of the wooden wheels on the cobblestone streets punctuating the silence. Futoria, undeterred, pressed on with her questioning, her voice unwavering in its pursuit of the truth. Titus, meanwhile, reveled in the chaos he had sown, his exaggerated movements and twisted delight serving as a stark contrast to the tension surrounding him.

Armon sat stoically beside Futoria, his expression a mask of inscrutable calmness as he transcribed every word exchanged between Titus and Futoria. With a deft hand, he scribbled notes onto parchment, his quill scratching furiously as he observed the intricate dance of words. His focus was intense, capturing every nuance of the conversation, every shift in Titus's demeanor.

Sensing a shift in the air, Armon glanced at Eren, who was standing silently, a shadow in the corner of the carriage. Eren's eyes were distant, filled with a contemplative intensity, never leaving Titus. He remained silent, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of suspicion and curiosity. Each movement of Titus, each inflection in his voice, seemed to add another layer to Eren's growing sense of unease.

"Eren," Armon murmured, his voice a low rumble that cut through the tension. "What thoughts plague your mind? Speak freely, for there may be truths hidden within the recesses of your thoughts." His words held a weight of wisdom, a reminder that even the smallest detail could hold the key to unlocking the mystery at hand.

Eren's eyes flickered for a moment, his brows furrowing as he focused on Titus. "It's him," Eren finally said, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with conviction. "There's something...off. He enjoys this too much. It's not just about Donny or the squads. It's like he's playing a game, and we're all pieces on his board."

Titus's grin widened, and he leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with dark amusement. "Ah, Eren, always the perceptive one. But you see, it's not a game. It's a symphony, and every note, every move, is part of a grander design." He leaned back, his laughter echoing eerily in the confined space. "And you all have front-row seats."

Futoria shot a glance at Armon, her eyes steely with determination. "What is this design, Titus? What are you planning?"

Titus's expression turned mockingly thoughtful, his fingers drumming theatrically on his knee. "Well, since you're all so keen on knowing... Let's just say, the world as you know it is about to change. Drastically. And those who don't join me... well, let's just say their fates will be quite...unpleasant."

Armon's quill paused mid-scratch, his eyes narrowing as he studied Titus. "And what of those who do join you?" he asked, his voice measured. "What do you offer them?"

Titus leaned in, his smile now a twisted blend of charm and menace. "Power, Armon. Power beyond their wildest dreams. Safety from the chaos. And a place in the new order that I will create."

Eren's gaze hardened, his fists clenching at his sides. "And those who refuse? What happens to them?"

Titus's smile faded, replaced by a cold, unforgiving stare. "They will be crushed. Their souls devoured by Hades himself. Eternity in torment, their very essence consumed."

The carriage fell silent, the weight of Titus's words hanging heavily in the air. Futoria, Armon, and Eren exchanged tense glances, each of them grappling with the implications of Titus's chilling proclamation. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across their faces, reflecting the dark path that lay ahead.

The air in the carriage grew heavier with tension, the claustrophobic space amplifying the unease. Every creak of the wooden wheels on the cobblestone streets seemed to punctuate the silence, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

Futoria continued her relentless questioning, her voice unwavering. "What did you do to Donny?" she demanded, her tone leaving no room for evasion.

Titus merely chuckled, a low, sinister sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Ah, Donny," he said, drawing out the name with a chilling familiarity. "Let's just say Donny has...fulfilled his purpose. He's a part of something much greater now."

Futoria's eyes narrowed, her grip on her notepad tightening. "You mean he's dead," she said flatly.

Titus tilted his head, considering her words. "Dead? Alive? Such simple terms for such a complex situation. Let's just say Donny's transformation has given him a new...perspective on life."

Armon leaned forward, his quill pausing in its furious scribbling. "Transformation?" he echoed, his voice tinged with suspicion. "What kind of transformation?"

Titus's grin widened, a predator savoring its prey. "Why ruin the surprise? You'll see soon enough."