Stephen's body ached, chains eating into his wrists as he just basically swung in mid-air, helpless. It was all the more worse with the chill of cold, damp air from the underground chamber, sending chills down to his bones. He looked up weakly; his vision was blurred, but he could make out the silhouette of Clarke in the poor light. Clarke was sharpening a knife; the scratching sound of metal against stone echoed in the room."Do you know why they didn't just make him a prison warden?" Clarke asked, the tone low, sinister. He continued sharpening the blade while speaking. Stephen said nothing. He was too weak and too weary. He knew that Clarke wasn't really expecting an answer.Clarke paused, eyeing the edge of the knife before continuing. "He had everything, Stephen. Money, power. But he gave it all to Charles, who the world sees as some bigshot billionaire. And what did he choose for himself? This." Clarke gestured around the dank, dark space. "A warden, someone who oversees the scu
Victor lay under his old, beat-up car and tightened the oil pan screws. The air was thick with grease and gasoline; the garage was only half-lit, which stretched the shadows across its walls. He wiped off his brow with his hand's back and grunted as he reached for the next tool.Before he could get to it, a hand reached it over to him. Victor slid out from under the car in surprise to see Charles seated in his wheelchair and holding the wrench. "You're back," Victor stated neutrally as he accepted the tool.Charles nodded and watched as Victor slipped under the vehicle to continue with his work. Through the silence, metal scraped against metal before Charles wheeled himself closer."I know you know about Stephen," Charles said, his voice low.Victor hesitated for a fraction of a second, then went back to tightening the bolt. "Is that so?"Charles' eyes narrowed. "Don't try to fool me. I'm not an idiot.Victor rolled out from under the car again, this time with his hands smeared with
Marriane sat in her car, drumming her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Afternoon sun filtered through the windshield, casting a warm glow over the dashboard. Other kids were spilling out of the school; their laughter echoed across the parking lot, but there was no sign of Ariane. Marriane checked the time again, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. *Why is she late?*She let out a deep breath and finally decided to step out of the car. The heat hit her as she walked briskly towards the school building, the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement. She pushed open the door to Ariane's classroom, and immediately it was empty-the rows of desks neatly in a row, the class teacher tidying up, stacking books into a neat pile."Good afternoon, Mrs. Marriane," the teacher greeted, adjusting herself to greet her."I'm here to pick up Ariane. Where is she?" Marriane asked sharply.The teacher looked embarrassed as her eyes dropped to Ariane's desk now empty. "Actually, so
The sun was setting over the beach, casting an orange glow over the shore as the waves lapped gently at it. Enoch stood alone, staring at the ocean, but his mind wasn't on the present. Instead, he saw the ghosts of his past: two young boys running and laughing while their father chased them. He remembered the memory well enough that it put a small, soft smile on his lips-a rare situation when compared with his otherwise hardened demeanor."It's been a long time since I've seen you smile," a voice cut into his thoughts.Enoch turned to see the figure of Victor approaching. He hadn't changed much, and being here was a harsh reminder of the life that they'd both abandoned. "I thought I'd find you here," he said, coming to a stop a few feet away.Enoch said nothing, and his eyes drifted back to the horizon. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody, let alone Victor.But Victor, undeterred by Enoch's coldness, pressed on. "Did you know Father regretted banishing you?"A bitter scoff escape
Stephen sat in this cold, poorly lit room. His heart was racing while he tried once more to bring the system into action. He concentrated, closing his eyes, and focused on the familiar command that usually sprang the system to life. But nothing happened. There was no response, no flicker of the interface, no comforting voice guiding him through. Only silence, broken by the constant tapping of rain against the small window high above.Frustration gnawed at him. What was blocking the system? It was there, just out of reach, yet something-or someone-was blocking it from activating. He clenched his fists, trying to push past the barrier in his mind, but it was like hitting a brick wall.It was the sound of footsteps that pulled Stephen from his musings. He looked up to see Clarke entering the room. Looking dark, Clarke muttered under his breath, seeming irritated. He wiped the rain off his face, wet from the rain outside.Getting soft, Clarke muttered under his breath. He gave a quick sha
Victor's eyes narrowed as he stared hard at the camera feed of the empty bed. Something was wrong, and it wasn't sitting right in his stomach. He knew that Charles had to be there, but all he could see was the wheelchair. Where was Charles?No time was being wasted as Victor sprang into an immediate upright stance, his movements curt and concise. He had to see this for himself. The hallway was quiet as he walked toward Charles's room; with every step, a burgeoning tension in his chest mounted.He came to the door, halted a moment, and listened for some noise inside. Nothing. Then he slowly opened the door, peering inside the dark room. It was precisely as the camera had depicted it—empty. The bed wasn't disturbed, the wheelchair in its normal position, but of Charles there was no sign.Victor's instincts took over. Something was not right, and he needed to find out what was happening. He started searching the room, first from the bed. He ran his hands under the mattress, checked the p
Morning sun filtered through the broken panes and cast an angry glare over the ruin. The mine was in shambles, debris everywhere, testament to the blast that had taken place. Clarke lay on cold, hard earth, his head pounding, his body weighed down by the exhaustion of the events of the night. He blinked, trying to clear off the fogginess in his brain, but the throbbing pain forbade him from focusing.The screeching of wheels on the floor yanked Clarke out of his fog. He swiveled his head slowly, his vision blurring at the edges, to see Charles wheel himself into the trashed room. His face was a mask of contained rage, his eyes narrowing as they drank in the view before him."What happened here, Clarke?" Charles's voice was cold and keen, every word weighted with barely restrained anger.Clarke struggled to sit up, his body protesting quite vehemently. His memory was a bit fuzzy, the night blurring back together in bits and pieces. He could recall Stephen-Stephen ordering him to let hi
Coming out of the prison gate, Ju Won's heart raced with feelings of relief mixed with anxiety. The air felt crisp and clean as he breathed in deeply, savoring this freedom he hadn't tasted in years. He squinted in bright sunlight-so starkly in contrast to the dim, claustrophobic cells he had grown so accustomed to. A tiny, unwilled smile tugged at his lips as he took in the trees, the open road ahead, and the absence of walls."Papa!" A voice familiar to his ears pierced the silence, halting him.He whirled suddenly, his gaze flicking around till his eyes landed on his daughter, Yuna, running toward him with an outstretched arm. The smile on his face grew wider as he found himself jogging toward her, meeting her halfway. Dropping to his knees, he pulled her into a tight hug.Yuna, are you all right? You're not hurt?" His voice was shaking with worry as he drew back to examine her face for traces of hurt.Yuna nodded, her eyes already brimming with tears of relief. "I'm fine, Papa. Bu