*

Quiet, peaceful and warmth, these were my sanctuary. My hope. My… escape.

*

It was quiet here. Peaceful. The sky stretched endlessly above, a canvas of soft blues and purples, the horizon melting into shades of orange and gold as the sun dipped low. The wind moved through the field, rustling the tall grass in waves, like the ocean’s distant tides. And in the center of it all was the tree, a massive, ancient oak whose branches reached out wide, its leaves shimmering in the breeze.

I rested beneath it, my back pressed against its thick, sturdy trunk, the rough bark grounding me. My eyes were closed, though I didn’t need to see. I knew this place. It had been my refuge in a life that was anything but kind. Here, in this field, under this tree, I had found a sliver of peace. Back then, when the world had been too loud, too cruel, I would escape here in my mind, letting the calm wash over me, if only for a little while.

But now… it felt different. The peace was still there, but it was laced with something else. A heaviness. A weariness that sat deep in my bones. I was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running. Tired of everything.

For a moment, I let myself drift, the weight of my exhaustion pulling me under, sinking into the quiet.

Then, a voice.

“This is unexpected.”

I didn’t open my eyes right away. I knew who it was before she spoke again. Baloria. She had been with me since the experiments began, invading my thoughts, pulling at my memories. But here, in this place, I hadn’t expected her to follow. This was my sanctuary. Yet here she was, intruding as always.

“You like it here, don’t you?” she asked, her voice soft, almost curious. “It’s so… peaceful. Not the kind of place I imagined someone like you would escape to.”

I opened my eyes then, slowly, and turned my head to find her sitting beside me, her legs crossed elegantly, her crimson eyes fixed on the horizon. She looked out of place here, with her dark, seductive aura, her sharp, predatory beauty. But somehow, she blended into the scene as if she had always belonged.

I sighed, too tired to argue with her presence. “This was where I used to come,” I said, my voice quiet. “In my old life. When things got bad, I’d imagine this place. It was the only place that felt… safe.”

She glanced at me, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. “Safe?” she repeated, her tone laced with amusement. “You think hiding in a dream made you safe?”

I didn’t answer her right away. The truth was, this place had made me feel safe. It had been the only escape I had, when the world outside was too harsh, too overwhelming. But I knew she wouldn’t understand that. Someone like her, someone who fed on power and control, wouldn’t see the value in retreating.

”You humans,” she mused, standing up and running her fingers through the tall grass. “You cling to such fragile things. Peace, safety, comfort. It’s no wonder you break so easily.”

I frowned. “And what about you? What do you cling to?”

Her eyes flashed, and her smile turned sharp. “Power,” she said simply, her voice filled with certainty. ”Power is the only thing that matters. When you have enough of it, you don’t need peace. You don’t need to hide. You take what you want, and the world bends to your will.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I shook my head, my chest tightening with frustration. “Is that really all you care about? Power?”

Baloria tilted her head, her crimson eyes narrowing as she regarded me. ”Why not? Power keeps you alive. It makes you strong. And it ensures that no one can hurt you again.” She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. ”Isn’t that what you want, little one? To never feel weak again? To never be at the mercy of someone else’s whims?”

I clenched my fists, her words digging deep, because she wasn’t entirely wrong. I did want that. I had spent so much of my life feeling powerless, at the mercy of people who didn’t care about me. My parents, my bullies… even fate itself had conspired against me. And now, here I was, in a new world, still being used, still being manipulated. Still weak.

But I wasn’t ready to give in. Not to her. Not to the darkness she offered.

“I don’t want to lose myself,” I said quietly, my voice barely audible over the wind. “Not again.”

Baloria let out a soft, almost pitying laugh. “Lose yourself? You’re clinging to a version of yourself that never really existed.” She crouched down beside me again, her cold fingers brushing against my arm. “Tell me, little one, what did your ‘self’ get you in your old life? What did it earn you?”

I looked away, the memories stirring uncomfortably inside me. My old life… there wasn’t much worth holding onto. My parents had been absent at best, abusive at worst. We lived in a run-down house on the edge of town, barely scraping by. I never had the things other kids had, new clothes, a backpack for school. I was lucky if I had lunch most days. And school? School had been a different kind of hell.

“Nothing,” I muttered. “It got me nothing.”

“Exactly,” she said, her voice softening. “You suffered. You were neglected. Bullied. Alone.” She stood again, looking down at me with those piercing eyes. ”And yet, you hold onto that version of yourself, as if it’s worth protecting. Why? Why not let go? Why not embrace what I’m offering you? Power, strength, freedom… you could be so much more than you ever were.”

Her words echoed in my mind, stirring something deep inside me. She was offering me everything I had never had—everything I had always wanted. But at what cost? What would I have to give up to take it?

I closed my eyes, letting the memories come, one by one.

My childhood had been a blur of loneliness and pain. My parents were addicts, more interested in chasing their next high than taking care of me. They fought constantly, their voices raised in anger, but when they weren’t fighting, they were silent, locked away in their own worlds. I was an afterthought, a burden they barely acknowledged.

School wasn’t any better. I was the kid with the dirty clothes, the empty lunchbox, the bruises I couldn’t explain. The other kids saw me as an easy target, and they took every opportunity to remind me of how worthless I was. I learned quickly to keep my head down, to stay quiet, to avoid attention. But no matter how hard I tried to disappear, they always found me. And when they did, it was always the same, laughter, taunts, punches.

I could still feel the sting of their fists, the way their words cut deeper than any bruise.

“I was nothing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I had nothing. No one. Every day was a struggle just to get by.”

“And yet you survived,” Baloria said, her voice gentle now, almost coaxing. ”You made it through all of that, little one. You fought, even when you didn’t realize it. You endured.”

I opened my eyes, looking up at her. There was something different in her gaze now, something almost… compassionate.

“You’ve always been strong,” she continued, kneeling beside me. ”You just never saw it. But I did. I see it now. And that strength… it’s why you’ve survived everything they’ve done to you here. It’s why you’re still alive, when everyone else has fallen.”

I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest. She wasn’t wrong. I had survived. I had made it through the experiments, through the pain, through the torture. I had endured, just like I had in my old life. But this was different. Here, I wasn’t just surviving. I was changing. Becoming something else.

“You don’t have to be the weak, scared boy you were,” Baloria whispered, her voice wrapping around me like silk. ”You can be more. You can be powerful. You can take control of your own destiny. You can make them pay for what they’ve done to you.”

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. The thought of revenge, of taking back control, was intoxicating. But it also terrified me. Because I knew that if I let her in, if I accepted her offer, I might lose more than just my humanity. I might lose everything that made me… me.

“I don’t want to be like you,” I said, my voice shaking. “I don’t want to become a monster.”

Baloria smiled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, little one. We’re all monsters. Some of us just wear it better than others.”

I closed my eyes again, feeling the weight of her words settling over me like a blanket.