The Baron leaned back in his seat, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, deep in thought. His eyes narrowed as they settled once more on Victor. The boy had sensed his gaze—most children didn't. They cowered, cried, pissed themselves. But that one… he looked back.
'Fascinating'.
Still, the boy's frame was thin.
Malnourished. No visible muscle on his lanky frame. Baron Ormund's eyes gleamed with mild interest, like a collector examining a strange trinket.
"Hmm. That one is interesting," he murmured aloud, voice thick with disdain and amusement. "But
he's weak."
He turned his head slightly, addressing the man with the lantern.
"Jeffrey."
Jeffrey stepped forward with
a slight bow. "Yes, my lord?"
Ormund's gaze remained fixed on Victor. "Whip him into shape. I don't care what you do—just make sure he doesn't break before he bends."
"Yes, my lord."
As Jeffrey turned away, Baron Ormund's lips moved slightly—but there was no sound. A ripple of invisible energy pulsed through the air.
"Keep a close eye on that
one. He has potential."
The voice resounded in Jeffrey's mind. And he blinked once, in acknowledgment. Then he barked orders to the other guards as they began herding the children down the corridor.
Victor remained kneeling, his heart still thundering from the earlier encounter. The Baron's gaze had felt like a scalpel, peeling back the layers of his mind. For a second, he had been sure he was going to die again—but then, it had stopped. Something had pushed
back. Or protected him.
"Focus". He whispered to
himself.
He took a deep breath to calm himself along with some other mental exercises. This were the things he did back on earth when he had to prepare for a major task or assignment. Being who he was, his trait—which allowed him to read people's true emotions and intentions, with a lot of practice and experience, helped him somewhat control his own emotions whenever he needed to get his shit together.
Here it was many times
better.
Once he felt composed enough,
he focused on his surroundings
It wasn't looking good.
The other children were quieter now. Too quiet. Victor could feel their fear, it was palpable . His empathic sense had always been a tool. Now, with it seemingly upgraded, it was like the floodgate had been opened . Every emotion in the room was crashing
against him. It took him just a few seconds to isolate and quiet down the storm of emotions crashing into him.
Despair.
Terror.
Resignation.
A girl to his left, maybe fifteen, kept glancing at the guards with watery eyes, her lips trembling, clutching her younger brother's hand. A boy behind him tried to puff up his chest in defiance, but the fear betrayed him in the way his fingers twitched.
There was another emotion distinct yet clearly the most intense was…
'Rage, Hatred'
He turned to look at a kid standing a little taller than the rest he had bronze skin and a slightly
chiseled and muscular physique. He was glaring at the baron with such intensity that, if looks could kill, then the baron would have been dead ten times over.
'He doesn't seem confused,
he clearly knows what's going on. I need to speak to him'.
He had a second chance.
And he wasn't about to waste
it.
Jeffrey's voice rang out.
"Move!"
They were led into a different chamber—larger, colder, with stone floors and wooden racks lining the walls. Implements hung from hooks: chains, manacles, whips. A training hall. Or a dungeon.
Victor took slow steps forward, his instincts told him to observe—memorize the exits, the guards' positions, the weapons. His thoughts flitted back to the Baron. That man was dangerous. Not just because of his authority, but because of something deeper—something mystic. Victor had felt it, it was like he wasn't qualified to
understand.
Why him?
Why had the Baron spoken to him—noticed him? He was weaker than the others. Physically useless.
But maybe that was the point.
As they lined up, Jeffrey
walked past them slowly, inspecting each one. When he reached Victor, he
stopped. The silence stretched long enough for Victor to look up.
Jeffrey's face was unreadable, but his eyes flickered.
"I was told to break you," he said quietly. "But I don't like wasting potential. So listen close, boy. If you're smart, you'll follow every order I give you like your life depends on
it."
Victor didn't blink. "Because
it does?"
Jeffrey smirked, just
slightly. "Now you're learning."
The man moved on, barking at
the others to line up against the far wall. Victor exhaled slowly.
He was still here. Still
breathing.
His stats were pathetic. His
position? Worse.
But he had his intellect. He
had the system. And for the first time in years, he had a goal.
He would find out what
Genesis was.
He would survive.
He looked to find that Jeffrey and the other men had left them in the chamber.
And then there was silence