"You know our directive," she said.
"I do, but many aren't worth saving," he responded.
-
Four years later.
Sen stared at the floor as he waited for the inevitable. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. Despite his overall desensitization over the past few years, Culwell still terrified him. The man who'd killed his family. Would've killed him, too, if he hadn't been...attractive. He struggled to avoid shuddering at the thought. He was stronger than this. He had to be. Otherwise, what was the point?
The sound of creaking hinges reverberated throughout the living quarters as the giant doors drifted open, followed by echoing footsteps. Heavy, made by someone wearing armor. Culwell, despite his size, seemed to be light on his feet. Sen breathed a sighed of relief. So he hadn't come to pick him up himself.
A flash of black and red at the doorway caught his eye. One of the Denmark twins. The right one. As always, his face was hidden under his helmet. The only hint this was the one he knew was the scuff marks above the visor. A hint of older battles, or maybe he was just clumsy. Sen didn't ask. He didn't care. "Get dressed," the twin said, drawing attention to the folded clothing in his arms. "I'll be waiting outside."
Sen stood and made his way over to Denmark. Grabbing the white and gold clothes, he paused for a moment to stare into the darkened visor. He couldn't see the man's eyes, but he knew he was staring back. "Are we ready?"
A nod, almost imperceptible. "Don't make me regret this," came the reply, his voice low. "I'm staking a lot in this, Devartani."
"Death is better than serving him," Sen said, moving to pull away with his clothes.
Denmark's grip tightened. Sen's jaw flexed as he was yanked back. "What are you-"
"Are you that pitiful?" the soldier hissed, getting in Sen's face. "Why are you so willing to die?"
The boy suddenly found it difficult to look at Denmark. His eyes flickered for a moment before finally hardening, though he still picked a point on the soldier's helmet to look at that wasn't his visor. "What do you know about me?" He yanked his clothing free, the threads tearing slightly. Turning away, he began to strip. "Stick to the plan."
Even if Sen was still looking at Denmark, even if he could see his face, he would've found his expression unreadable. There was a moment of silence where nothing was heard beyond the rustling of clothing and noise of the girls drifting from the main hall. Finally, Denmark spoke. "Don't get yourself killed," he said, his voice betraying nothing. "You no longer have only yourself to let down."
And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading until they were no longer audible. Sen paused, glancing back as though the soldier would still be there, then returned to changing. Culwell had picked out something unnecessary, of course. The boy pulled on a pair of thin yet impossibly intricately embroidered golden silk pants, the material offering no insulation whatsoever.
As he picked up the second piece of his outfit, something small and metallic fell out and hit the floor with a thump.
"Sen?" one of the girls called from the main room. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he called out the door. He turned back, staring down at the dull-colored object on the floor. The pointed edge beckoned to him, begging to be used. The boy's voice dropped in volume. "I just...dropped something."
-
Denmark looked up at Sen pulled open the doors and made his way through. He seemed uncomfortable, playing with the ornate bracelets on his wrists. "Just one of these would set up a family for years," Sen muttered, not really paying attention to the soldier. "And yet..."
No response from Denmark. The twin silently pushed off the wall and walked away without so much as a gesture to the blonde boy. Luckily, Sen followed, jogging just a bit to keep up.
All things considered, it surprised Denmark how little the concubine had aged in the past few years. Most people look completely different from age 14 to 18, and yet Sen's features were still soft and young. Anyone would've easily mistaken him for a child without being told.
Probably not the best time.
"Do you have it?" Denmark wanted to ask about Sen's ageless features, but they had more pressing concerns at the moment. "Hopefully it'll increase your chances. If you can't win, you run, remember? Got it, Devartani? Devartani?"
"Huh?! Oh uh, mhm, yeah, I got it," the boy blustered. "I'll be okay, don't worry."
Denmark's eyes narrowed under his helmet. Where had the boy's confidence gone? He was like an entirely different person. The fidgeting, the nervousness, none of this had been apparent in the past few years. The last time he'd seen the kid like this was four years ago, when he'd been taken by Culwell. Why was he...?
Sen flinched as the soldier snapped his fingers. "I see," he said out loud. "That's why."
"Er, what? What's why?"
There was no reaction from the soldier for a moment as he regained his wits. He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. Maybe one day he'd fix the habit. "Nothing of importance," he responded, wondering if it really was important.
It seemed pretty significant. Devartani couldn't seem to function properly outside of familiar scenarios and locations. Things with no risk. If that was truly the case, their odds of success just tanked. Everything hinged on him killing or at least slowing down Culwell. If he simply locked up, then...
He didn't want to think about that. They would stick to the usual objective for now. If nothing else, he might be able to salvage the plan if it went wrong, provide an out. He had the abilities to do so, of course.
The two walked in silence for another five minutes, the scenery changing from the rough elegance from before into something bordering almost Victorian lavishness. Intricately designed cherry wood paneling lined the walls. The floor was thick, plush white carpet, so soft underfoot it felt like walking on clouds. Wrought-iron torches were evenly spaced down the hall, powered by electricity rather than lit by fire.
As they turned the corner, the hallway opened up even wider, retaining the same style as before, but with paintings dotting the walls between the torches. At the end of the hall was a set of double doors, inlaid with gold, built taller for someone larger than average.
Denmark noticed subtle changes in Sen as they drew closer to the doors; while he seemed to grow more and more nervous, something in his eyes slowly hardened, forming a sort of resolve. The soldier smiled to himself. Maybe it wasn't as hopeless as they thought.
As they reached the end of the hall, the doors silently slipped open, revealing a massive room within. It was painted in dark colors, the gray of the walls heavily contrasting against the white and brown of the hallway. Directly across from the door sat a huge draped bed, much too large for even the giant leaning against it.
Culwell smiled. "I'm glad you could make it, Sen," he said. His eyes flicked to Denmark. "Thank you."
The soldier bowed, then turned on his heel, making sure to close the doors carefully behind him. Sen watched him go, his heart rate rising as his last remaining lifeline disappeared.
"It seems you've made a friend," came Culwell's voice from behind. "I'm surprised. The twins are unfriendly. Almost...hostile. I'm so happy for you."
Sen turned to face the warlord. The big man was dressed in an unbuttoned burgundy silk shirt and some sort of loose navy pants. They almost reminded the blond boy of surgical scrubs. Above all that, Culwell wore a warm smile, genuine, inviting. It was like he was trying to emulate someone's father. It sent shivers up Sen's spine. Culwell's lack of eyebrows did nothing to help.
The view behind the giant caught the boy's eye. A row of floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the hull of the warship. Below, Mars shone in its full glory, the red of its former self marred by the green and blue of developing oceans and civilization. What had the scientists called the process? Rapid terraformation? As interested as Sen was in the process, he'd never quite grasped it. The blackouts never let him focus long enough to make sense of the words on the screen.
The more he looked, the more he noticed imperfections in the development; massive blackened areas where bombs and fire had ravaged cities, red dirt swirling with icy blue water from the destruction of the land, giant clouds of pollution. This was Culwell's legacy, he realized. Not harmony, but destruction. Power. Control.
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He felt like he was suffocating. This was his home he was looking at. He had come from there, and the man in this very room was responsible for its systematic collapse. Sen shakily sucked in a breath then exhaled, rapidly, suddenly very close to hyperventilating. His hands curled into fists, fingernails biting into his skin.
"Beautiful, don't you think?" Sen realized with a start he'd drifted toward the window, and Culwell had walked up behind him. He shivered as the warlord's hands caressed his shoulders, squeezing lightly. "Destruction has a certain beauty in it. Not to say Mars wasn't beautiful before, but...it seems so much more wonderful now. Once I'm done here, I'll have what I want and nobody will need to suffer anymore. Rule under one, instead of under many. Everyone will have what they need. No more shortages, no more wars. Beauty in destruction, beauty...in change."
"This isn't change," Sen said, his voice its usual raspy whisper. He trembled, struggling to avoid lashing out. If he went after Culwell now, he could say goodbye to any chance of ever escaping. "It's murder. Killing for sport. You don't want peace. You just want power, don't you?"
Nothing in Culwell's body language suggested this statement bothered him. "I don't think that's a very nice thing to say about someone you hardly know, Sen," the giant whispered. "As much as it pains me to say it, your family was in the way of progress."
Sen's jaw clenched. He closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his composure. "Culwell- erm, My Lord," he corrected himself as the warlord's hands tightened on his shoulders. "What's this Ruby you're looking for?"
"Okay, no more questions." Sen only had a moment to register the tightness in the giant's voice before he was spun around. The next thing he knew, Culwell's mouth was on his, his tongue forcing its way into his mouth.
Sen's entire consciousness recoiled as his mind attempted to reject his current reality. He tried to pull away, but Culwell's grip was absolute. He tore away the boy's vest like a hungry animal, exposing his pale skin the air. His hair raised on end as he pushed away more desperately, wanting to be anywhere but here.
The knife.
He reached back, pulling the blade from his waistband. He supposed he was lucky Culwell considered Denmark good enough defense against him getting attacked. He was his personal bodyguard, after all. Sen gripped the knife tightly as Culwell ran his hands through his hair. Now.
He closed his eyes as the weapon arced toward the warlord's neck. It meet resistance, something hard, and Culwell stopped moving, his lips still locked to Sen's. The boy cautiously opened his eyes, looking for the knife. He smelled copper. That was good, right?
With a start, he realized Culwell was watching him. He gasped and let go of the weapon, stumbling backward until he slammed into the window.
"Is that how you treat your host?" came Culwell's voice. The giant tossed the knife aside, bouncing off the ground with a thump. Sen winced at the sound, sucking in a shaky breath as his final hope bounced out of reach. Culwell reached out, his hand trickling with the slightest hint of blood. "How did you get a knife? Who gave it to you?"
Sen's mind was busy trying to shut itself down, preparing itself for what would come next. He breathed heavily, ragged breaths that threatened to shred the lining of his throat. It's over. It's over. I'm sorry, Denmark. I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. I couldn't. I'm not strong enough. I'm still useless.
Culwell tilted his head. "That was it?" he asked, genuinely bewildered. "Even the weakest women I've ever had fought harder."
He reached for Sen and picked him up by the throat. The boy gasped harder, but seemed to register nothing. The warlord sighed. "Disappointing. I thought maybe I'd have a fighter and a pretty boy for once. What a letdown." He tossed Sen on the bed and began shedding clothes. "But it changes nothing."
-
Sen's vision swam black. He could still vaguely sense Culwell off to the side, unmoving, as if frozen in time. He tried to move, but his body wouldn't listen. Panic began to set in. Had he been drugged? How did it happen? He was sure he'd been diligent.
As the boy strained to move, a pair of glowing gold orbs flickered into existence just ahead. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at eyes. His own? No...
"If you're seeing this one, you've gone too deep," a familiar voice emanated from the eyes. "I left it for when you're dealing something so traumatic you retreat into yourself."
Culwell was still frozen. Why? Why am I so weak?
He could sense the eyes shrug. "You're young. Inexperienced. Whatever you're experiencing now is the worst thing you've ever experienced. It gets worse from here, but you become better equipped to deal over time."
How do I win?
"Use what you have. You know by now this world has people who are beyond human. You're one of them."
People like...him?
"I can't possibly know who you're fighting, but the answer is probably yes. It's always been there, waiting for you. Granted, what you can do might not be the most useful depending on the situation, but I guess it might work?"
Sen was silent for a moment. Not too long, of course. He didn't know how long the blackout would last. One last question. The obvious, he supposed. How do I use it?
"Feel it. It'll come to you. Just let it happen."
What? How do you know that'll work?
The eyes shot forward. Sen would've flinched if he was able to move. White teeth shone in the blackness, stretched in a gruesome smile. "Because you and I are one and the same," the mouth said. "I know you more than you know yourself. Good luck, kid. You've got an adventure ahead of ya."
Suddenly he was back, Culwell moving as normal. Despite the imminent threat, he felt his fear wash away. He sat up as the warlord removed his shirt, leaving only his pants. "Thought I'd lost you there for a second, Sen," the giant said, smiling. He reached for his waistband and froze, his smile disappearing. He narrowed his eyes. "What's so funny?"
Sen barely heard him. Feel it. FEEL IT. Something stirred in his core, then dispersed as he attempted to grab onto it. Come on...
"Are you listening to me?" Culwell abandoned his original plans and stepped towards the blond boy, reaching out to grab him. "What's with that sickening smile?"
"Feel it," Sen muttered. This time, he grabbed the feeling in his core and absolutely refused to let go, gnashing his teeth together as the white-hot energy suddenly flowed through his veins. He gasped as power abruptly ran uncontrollably through his body, ebbing and flowing, splashing and roaring like a raging sea. It wanted to run free. It didn't want to be controlled. But Sen wanted to control it. He needed to. "Feel it!"
"Sen!"
Culwell dove forward as golden light blasted into the boy's clenched fist, igniting his veins like liquid flame. Sen's eyes finally locked onto the warlord as if seeing him for the first time. "Go to hell," he rasped, and swung his fist.
Culwell had been hit by a train before. Only a few weeks after he'd been granted his superhuman abilities by Tietan, he'd ventured to the tracks supplies came in on. A freight train arrived at exactly noon each day, and he had something he'd wanted to test. The first responders found him still there fifteen minutes later, wedged into the front of the train. The conductor died on impact. Culwell was uninjured. Had barely even moved. It took the lab months to clean up the accident. And of course, they punished him.
This, however, felt nothing like that. The boy's fist made contact and instantly shattered his left arm and ribs and sent him flying across the room and through the doors to the hallway. He gasped as his broken bones were jarred from the impact and forced himself into a roll to lessen their movement.
When he finally stopped, he groaned and sat up, his eyes swimming. As his sight cleared, he peered into the room, watching as Sen rose from the bed. His arm sizzled with golden light, energy pouring off of it like liquid, but instead of dripping, it rose, dissipating into nothingness before it reached the ceiling. The boy's eyes glowed with an incredible intensity, perfect circles of golden light, draping his face in shadow. But what Culwell was most focused on was his mouth. Sen was grinning, a sickening, sadistic smile that betrayed his enjoyment. What sort of monster had he brought on his ship?
It excited him.
Movement caught Culwell's eye. The Denmark twin keeping post outside pushed the door off himself with a groan. "What the..." he grumbled, sitting up and glancing at his employer. Realized the warlord was injured, he jumped to his feet and got in between Sen and Culwell, drawing his gun. "Don't move!"
"Denmark," the giant said, hiding his pain behind his words. "I'll be fine. He just caught me off guard. Go prep Arachnid. If he gets past me, we're gonna need them."
"My Lord-"
"Don't argue. Do it."
The Denmark twin glanced back at Sen for a moment before running off, disappearing around the corner. Sen watched him go. Despite nearly all his focus being on holding his abilities stable, he noted that was the other twin. His helmet was unmarred. He wasn't yet sure if that was good or bad.
"Sen, my boy!" The blond's eyes flickered to Culwell as the big man stood. He seemed shaky, and his arm was destroyed, but his gaze was strong. He was smiling again. "You didn't tell me you were a Mennesk! Ah, no wonder I couldn't find the Ruby. Your father used it on you, didn't he?"
Sen tilted his head. "So the Ruby is a solar core?" he asked. "What's so special about it?"
A laugh. "It's not just any core, Sen," Culwell answered. "It's one of the most powerful cores ever mined. It doesn't make Mennesks, it makes gods."
"So why use it on me?"
"Your father was a scientist before he was ever a politician, Sen," the warlord answered. He eyed the boy's arm. While the Ruby could make powerful people, he'd never seen anything quite like this. It felt wrong, somehow. Like it was corrupted. Through his excitement, he felt a twinge of discomfort. "He saw you as a perfect test subject for his experiments. He saw an opportunity and he took it. What self-respecting researcher wouldn't?"
Sen's thoughts surged out of control as his conflicting feelings for his dad collided once again. He experimented on me? Why? Is that...is that why I have blackouts? A voice in my head. The grin on Sen's face disappeared, not that he ever noticed it, replaced by a grimace. His eyes dropped to the floor as errant thoughts pinballed throughout his head. He didn't notice until it was too late that he'd lost his hold on his power.
The golden energy surged once more, shooting off a corona of light across the room before receding back into his body. Suddenly, Sen found himself feeling vulnerable once again, the steadfast confidence he'd felt moments before now gone.
Culwell stepped forward as Sen tried desperately to get it to resurface. The more he fought, however, the more it resisted, and Culwell realized with a start that the boy had no control over that rocket of a punch. He dug in his heels and charged, ignoring the pain in his side.
Sen dove aside as the warlord slammed into him. He floundered as pain spread throughout his hips, dropping to the floor. He gasped for air, attempting to push the pain to the back of his mind, then staggered to his feet as the warlord caught himself on the edge of the bed. "Stay away!" he yelled, backing away into the hallway. "Don't touch me!"
Excitement lit the bald giant's eyes as he turned to face the boy once again. "C'mon, fight me!" he exclaimed, his eyes wild. "Stop running!"
As the the warlord sprinted forward once again, Sen desperately searched for something to use to defend himself. He couldn't win in his current state, but he might be able to temporarily incapacitate Culwell and give himself an opening to escape.
His eyes caught one of the doors, lying where the twin had dropped it moments before. Sturdy. They had broken off their hinges instead of in half. Luck was on his side for once. This was going to hurt.
He dropped, grabbing the door and putting all his strength into directing the edge at Culwell's broken ribs. His hips screamed in protest, flaming fingers of pain reaching into the depths of his body.
The warlord slammed into the door, too greedy in his lust for battle to notice Sen's plan. His eyes bugged as his splintered ribs threatened to tear open his skin. He dropped to the ground, holding in a shriek. He wasn't used to pain. There weren't many people who could injure him, after all.
When he recovered enough to get up, Sen was gone.