The vast emptiness of the void cocooned around Layla. It’s nothingness caressing her body like a soft, warm blanket. The feeling of entering this meditative state came to her naturally. Its empty touch made her feel at home more than in her own skin.
Time in the void state passed oddly to the waking world. There were periods where it felt as though time stood frozen. The calm of each moment floating in the vast nothingness lasting days. Neither emotion nor negative thoughts were able to touch her. Other times it felt like a light of a star racing out from its celestial body as she searched with frantic abandon for the ever elusive… something. Only now did she realize that the tower was what she had been searching for all along.
As the thought of the tower came to mind, a bright white pinprick came into view. Layla quested towards the new light eagerly. The image of the impossibly vast and gargantuan structure entered her void. She wasn’t sure if she had eyes in this state or if this was all just some mental hallucination developed by her mind to comprehend the structure. What she did know was that the tower was there in all its colossal glory. White stones filled up her void so completely until there was only her and the structure for as far as her ethereal sense could perceive.
In a flash, she stood at the walkway to the dark metal door once more. The same silver handles invited her to pull them open. Just as before, the tower seemed to want her to enter. A feeling of acceptance and welcoming flooding her. She reached out to the silver handles and pulled. A brilliant light shot out from the doors, and Layla felt herself being sucked in. The light consumed her and felt as though she had moved a vast distance. A jolt hit her being, and she blanked out.
Layla came to an unknown amount of time later on her back. Opening her eyes, she took in a beautiful azure sky dotted with white fluffy clouds. The heavenly canvass stirred something inside her. An inner peace could be found amongst rolling shapes, she thought. She looked to her left to see she was lying in tall lush green grass. The blades soft and lightly tickled the sides of her face. The overwhelming odor of nature filled her nostrils. The smell of freshly turned soil and cut grass was relaxing in a way she had never experienced before. A connection she didn’t know she longed for. Layla felt as though she could just lay amongst these swaying blades of green forever.
Lazily she turned her gaze back at the azure sky and watched the tumbling balls of cotton roll through the heavens. The tranquility of the passing clouds soothed her mind. How long had it been since she took time to just… exist?
At some point, she sat up refreshed. She didn’t know how much time she lay there, but something inside her said that it was long enough. Layla stood up and found herself stuck in the beauty that surrounded her. There were endless waves of swaying green as far as her eyes could see. A cool wind breeze brushed her face briefly before it flitted across the tops of the stalks playfully.
There were no landmarks that she could perceive in any direction that might assist her with some type of direction. She didn’t let this bother her, though. Choosing a path at random, she began to walk. A stroll in the vast meadow felt like a fantastic idea. Even if she didn’t find anything, the atmosphere was pleasant.
Layla wondered at the purpose of this place as she let her hands trail atop the foliage. Was this really a tower? It didn’t seem like any tower she had seen, not that she had seen many towers. She’d broken into pretty tall buildings before, and they definitely didn’t have their own sunshine and clouds. It was more like Layla found herself in another world. The sun in the sky did appear to be moving to let her know that time was passing in some form here, but how fast or slow she couldn’t guess.
Her body appeared to be the same along with her clothing. The shabby robes refused to leave her, even in her mind, it seemed. What was her body doing in the real world? She could somehow tell that her body was still in a cross-legged position in her room when she thought about it. It was a faint feeling like she was very far away from her physical form but at the same time very close. How it worked was a mystery currently, so she put it out of her mind.
She should be safe in her room at the very least. Only she could enter her personal space. That wasn’t to say someone couldn’t get in, only that it would take a good amount of effort to enter both her dorm and her personal quarters. She had inspected the security system before deciding to search for the tower once more. She had to admit that the security in the rooms was the real deal. It would give even her trouble if she didn’t have her spare key to handle things. Regardless she felt safe enough.
As she walked, she started to notice a trickle of sweat begin to bead on her temple. The temperature hadn’t changed. It was perfect as far as she could tell. Layla felt both warm and comfortable. What had changed? The landscape was still flat, and no signs of an elevation change could be seen in any direction. Layla knew she hadn’t exerted herself in any way. Her physical endurance was bordering on superhuman, she imagined. She knew with confidence that she could run nonstop for hours.
A curious thing she had noticed recently was that she felt too light. It was as though she had been wearing heavy armor for a long time, and when she left the slice, she had taken it off, giving her the feeling that she was floating with every step. Layla speculated that the slice had incrementally increased the gravity past what was typically found on human planets. It sort of made sense now that she reflected on the simulations. While she eventually reached a point where she could fight for hours upon hours. The effort to do so had never really become any easier. There had never been a point where she felt strong inside that hell. No, Layla had only become more efficient and effective with her movements. But she didn’t believe this was the same. She didn’t know what had changed, but something had.
A bead of sweat rolled down her back, and her breathing was starting to become labored. The air felt too thick. She decided to stop for a time and acclimate to whatever this change was doing to her body. Taking in large breaths, she held them for ten heartbeats then expelled the air. She did this for around a hundred cycles before she felt the tension ease.
Now that she had noticed something was going on, she moved backward to sense what had changed. The heaviness in the air decreased. If she moved back in, at some point, she needed to stop and acclimate once more. If anything, once she adapted, she felt invigorated as though she could run farther or push herself harder. Whatever was making the air heavy did not seem to be harmful.
There was no visible change in the air or the grass, so she decided to push on. The cycle of moving and acclimating repeated itself over and over. Layla's thoughts drifted during this time. Thoughts about her past and her future. She considered Torren’s words more seriously. Did she really need to just let it go?
It was a novel thought. Layla considered herself to be somewhat intelligent, but her mind had been clouded by events. The change had come too fast, and the loss of Jogen had thrown her into a loop that she usually would be self-aware enough to avoid. No one had ever taught her about the loss of a loved one. Not even the loss of her parents really affected her. She wasn’t sure she could even remember their faces.
That whole event felt very strange to her now. Layla had experienced those bouts of panic many times throughout her life. It wasn’t the loss of her parents, though. It was something more. It was the loss of safety. The thought of being alone with no one to call on. A child’s fear.
That had affected her. She understood that it may have even emotionally stunted her in some ways. Children were egocentric, and that didn’t really start to change until their mid-teens normally. Not that they couldn’t understand others' points of view before then, only that they were more about themselves. She understood that, but that only explained the panic. What was odd and slightly weird was that she had almost no memories of before. It was like she woke up in a panic on the streets of that city on Golar with no idea what was going on. It wasn’t even clear if her parents were the people she was with because she couldn’t remember anything.
That didn’t seem normal at all. Was Layla even eight years old when Jogen found her? She had no memories of family or birthday parties. The more Layla pondered on the subject, she believed that wasn't right either. Jogen had been the one who had guessed her age. Had she just agreed with him? The time was hazy. The hunger had been so intense. Her memories had become much more orderly after those first couple of days.
Layla had been extremely weak when her brother had found her. She wasn’t sure how long she had spent in that alley just waiting, but it had been long enough that she hadn’t been able to walk very well. A potent sign that it had been quite some time.
The landscape changed as she came across a white stone path. The moment she stepped onto the path, the mysterious pressure disappeared. Layla looked left and then right, but the stone footpath didn’t seem to lead anywhere. It apparently continued on in either direction for forever. This place was odd. She shrugged and continued in the same direction ignoring the neat paving stones. The pressure came back, and she continued the cycle of walking and breathing as her mind wandered back to the issue at hand.
Planes how she missed Jogen. The anger started to rise in her chest at the thought of why he wasn’t here with her. She closed her eyes to calm her mind. She had to let it go. But what was it to let go? Did she need to simply forget what had happened and move on? Close that door and walk through the next? Layla didn’t believe that was what Torren meant, and it wasn’t something she was willing to do either.
So what did it mean to let it go? She thought she might have an idea, and Layla believed that she was coming to the same conclusion prior to the odd shopkeeper's advice, but things kept happening that twisted open the wounds that were trying to heal. Layla needed to accept that what had happened had happened. That Jogen was gone, but their dream together was not. For better or for worse, she had made it come true.
She needed to let go of the anger and her strange past. That didn’t mean she needed to forget, only that she should stop dwelling on things she couldn’t change at the moment. Start living in the now. She had friends and a despicable master. Layla would certainly fight for the new friendships, but only time would tell if they would pan out. If they didn’t, then that was okay. There were plenty of people here at this academy. Even if she only found one person to connect with, then it would be enough.
Jogen would have loved this place, and she had no doubt in her mind that he would have been fast friends with everyone he met. Layla would take a page from his book and try. He had always said that you just needed to put forth the effort, and most decent people would reciprocate. That is what she would do, but how would she deal with the rage?
The anger was something she was not used to handling. Layla had never truly comprehended real anger before. Oh, sure, she had been furious many times in her life, but it had never clung to her like this. It was like a black tar that festered inside her mind, eating away at her very soul. Internally she understood that it was just a product of the injustice of her current situation. How could she ever be happy with a dream achieved by sacrificing a loved one? How could a dream become whole when half of the dream was missing? She didn’t know, but she would try. She would keep stepping forward, carrying their dream on her back.
She looked inside herself at the bonfire of rage. It promised release and justice. She wasn’t so sure now how appealing those insidious promises were. She had given in to them briefly and the results had sickened her. That wasn’t the person she wanted to be. She turned her back on the flames. Layla would let it go, for now. When she left this place powerful and indomitable, she would revisit the issue and see if she still felt the same.
The stone paths continued to crop up every so often, and she ignored them. She was making progress on her fraying mental health. The cyclic nature of acclimating and walking took little effort mentally. It freed her mental energy to organize the twisted knots in her mind.
It was a interesting experience, essentially meditating while in meditation. Layla wasn’t even sure how that worked. Why was this tower here inside her head, or was she even still in her mind at all? The planes were obviously vaster and more interesting than she could understand.
Another path came and went. Each one seemed to be getting narrower and narrower. Layla finally came across a track so thin she could just jump over, so she did. She took two steps, and the pressure struck her like a hammer. The force of it beating down on her like a waterfall. Its power slammed down upon her shoulders until she fell to her knees. Sweat gushed out of all her pores. It wanted to crush her. To wipe her away from existence. The air was thick, almost tangible. Layla could taste a domineering presence permeating the air. It held a will of its own. The will's intent was clear to her somehow. If she persisted in this direction, it would grind her soul into oblivion and leave her body a hollow husk.
She almost gave in to the tiny flames of fear that were trying to take seed in her mind. Drawing on a streak of stubbornness that refused to be cowed. Layla gathered herself with all her might and moved to her cross-legged position to acclimate. She would not stop. Who cared what the pressure wanted? She would endure and continue. There was clearly something good this way. Why else would this force be trying to keep her from it? If she wanted to be indomitable, then she had to start somewhere. This pressure would be the perfect way to hone her conviction.
The things she had accomplished in the slice were not by her own will. She doubted she would have been capable of achieving any of those feats of unstoppable force. On some level, Layla had never imagined that she could do something like that. Charging into a hoard of bestial humanoids without fear. Allowing herself to be stabbed just so that she could create the opening to dispatch a superior foe. Ordinary people could not do that.
Well it wasn’t that they couldn’t achieve these things. Given enough motivation, anyone could crush their perceived limits. The simple fact is that most people would never need to find that boundary. The average person would never need to find that inner conviction deep inside them to push their bodies further. But she had been shown her limits time and time again. Then, under the control of the slice, she had summarily dismissed them. Layla had defied their very existence only to reach higher. Now that she fully understood what she was capable of without the doubt and fear plaguing her mind, she would need to build the foundations for that willpower to stand on.
The acclimation went excruciatingly slow this time. Each and every breath was a mountain for which Layla had to conquer. Every cycle was a feat of mental resilience she had to achieve. The pressure was ruthless and relentless as it assaulted her from all sides. It felt as though she was opposing something absolute and unmovable.
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Layla continued the cycle while she kept picturing the battle between Atom and the woman on Golar. A conflict that had reshaped kilometers of the terrain in the blink of an eye. The exchanges happening so fast that it looked as though the ground had gone mad and began exploding in all directions. The brief pauses were the only sign that two beings were even fighting.
That was the stage she was headed towards. If she wanted to stop being a victim to the whims of those stronger than her, then she had to become a titan. A force of nature that was unyieldingly, indestructible, and unstoppable. Only then would she be free to choose her own fate. It all started with one more breath.
Time passed as she completed each agonizing cycle. At some point she the pressure became more manageable. The intent to crush her was still there, but it felt hollower now. The last throes of its petulance will seeped away with each breath. It had attempted to snuff her out, but in the end, it had failed.
Layla rose to her feet and wiped the sweat from her brow. She briefly wondered how she could even sweat in a place like this but dismissed the thought. She had no clue what this place was but assumed that she would find out if she kept heading in this direction.
Wasting no more time, Layla moved swiftly. The time of reflection was over. That pressure hadn’t been precisely malicious, but she knew it would have harmed her had she not taken action. This place was not what it seemed at first glance. While she appreciated the time to gather the loose threads of her thoughts and organize them. The act had been accomplished. Now it was time to figure out what the hell this place was about.
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“Mother, please stop. Ahrg, You’re embarrassing me. Mother—,” the boys muffled cries fell on deaf ears as Joslin Cellini, the current matriarch of the Cellini family, crushed her youngest son into her bosom.
“Hush Jano. Mother has missed her little spark.”
Her son pushed away from her, and she allowed him to move her a bit, “Mother I told you not to call me that anymore. I am a warrior of the Cellini family.”
The words caused her to hug him even tighter. He feebly tried to escape her clutches, but she refused to let him go, “Of course you are little spark.”
Joslin loved every single one of her children. All one hundred and fifty-eight of them. And why wouldn’t she? Motherhood was the most rewarding thing in her life. Why she had waited so many thousands of years to start, she would never know.
After reaching the very apex of the Cellini family by crushing all those crusty old men with their ancient backward thinking, she had found herself at an impasse. She had both power and respect but yet something was missing. Joslin had felt unfulfilled. There had to be something more, and it turned out there was. Motherhood.
She finally let go of her red-faced and thoroughly embarrassed child. His cute expression of anger tempted her to snuggle him once more, but she held off. He was trying to become a man, and she didn’t want to hurt his confidence too much.
“So tell me little spark. How was your first day?”
Jano explained the day's events. Joslin’s eyes narrowed at his tale. So he had met a girl. A fierce one at that.
“I hate her mother. She has disrespected me in front of the whole Academy.” He said vehemently as he clutched his fist in what she assumed to be rage. Oh, he was too cute.
“Was she pretty, little spark? I can’t have you dallying around with girls who aren’t up to standard.” Joslin said with a smirk.
Jano looked as if he’d be struck. Confusion and betrayal rout on his face, “What, was she pretty? Mother did you not listen to a word I said. That peasant girl almost killed me, twice. She’s a monster.”
Joslin waved her hand dismissively, “Nonsense little spark. I had beat your father bloody dozens of times before he came around. She was just letting you know that she was interested.”
And she had. The man was insanely stubborn. She had thrashed him to near death countless times before they fell in love. What a passionate man he was. Full of fire and fury. She had called him her flame. It was a shame they had lost him to assassins.
She had tried to convince him that he should give up his thrown in one of the lower planes, but he refused. He loved his country too much, and he died for it in the end. She had burned most of it to the ground afterward before finding the ones responsible. At least, he had gifted her a little spark.
“Mom, you are not listening to me. She is a vile and disreputable blued-haired peasant. Have you not looked at the recordings I sent you? I swear, mother. I’m going to….”
She let her son prattle on. He was just like his father. Once his passion grabbed hold of him, he would keep talking until he was thoroughly wound up. He did have a good point, though. Joslin hadn’t looked at the reports from their younglings sent in from this year's cohort as of yet.
She continued to nod and comment on how this evil woman yada yada. She was an ascendant and a mother. Multitasking was not an issue. She relaxed her control over her perception of time. Her son's words slowed to a rumble of vibrating air. She zoomed through the information while she watched the recording of the two altercations.
Her little spark had been thoroughly thrashed. She could see how that would hurt his pride. Despite their mother reigning supreme in their family, getting ‘beat-up' by a girl always hurt their fragile little egos. Her boys were like that sometimes.
Joslin paused the recording with a finger flick and looked the girl over. She was frozen mid-leap from her son's bottom headed straight for his protector. There was some potential in that face. It was brimming with confidence. It lacked any doubt that she would be victorious even with the numbers heavily against her. But what was this second conflict about?
She played through the interaction, taking in all the minute details. Someone had hurt her, perhaps. Joslin could sympathize with that. Had her little spark not been his father's son, he would have never played into that little trap. She was clever and able to push his adorable little buttons skillfully. Respectable.
Joslin clicked her tongue when she saw her son pull out a blade. Shameful, but she wouldn’t punish him for it. Maybe a good scolding and some hugs would do the trick. Joslin didn’t mind the embarrassment of the public beating. Those kids needed some tempering. A little humility never hurt anyone.
She sat back and thought about the issue. Little spark would need his ego reinforced. He was too young to understand the skill gap and too immature to comprehend real power. Something Joslin would continue to keep her son ignorant off. Several years at NAA would take care of that without her needing to get involved. She wanted him to enjoy his time at school as long as possible.
Grabbing control again, she slowed down her mind to her son's level and listened to him continue on with his tirade. She struggled to keep the smile off her face as he stomped around. Too cute.
She was a busy woman, and as much as she wanted to listen to her babies day, she had pressing matters to handle.
“So you found a new girlfriend then. Excellent.”
Her son’s eyes bulged incredulously, and he tried to deny her words, but she kept talking.
“Well I did look over the reports and watch the recordings before you came here,” she lied shamelessly.
“She is beautiful. Not as much as your mother but just as fierce. She’s perfect. But I do understand you are upset. Mama will take care of it.” Joslin said sweetly.
Her son still looked offended by her earlier words. The boy would learn at some point what a good woman was, even if she had to knock out a few of his teeth first.
“Let’s talk about that blade you pulled out. That was not very gentlemen of you son. You can’t draw weapons on your future betrothed in a formal challenge. It’s shameful.”
Jano threw his hands up in the air as though his mother had lost her mind. She snatched him up and cuddled him into submission.
“Worry not little spark. Mother will send some people to test your new girlfriend. If she survives then she will be even more worthy of you. And if she doesn’t… well mama always delivers doesn’t she.”
“Yes, mother,” Jano said grudgingly as he finally gave in and hugged her back. He was a little spoiled, she knew, but she just couldn’t help it.
She would send her worst group of shades to snag the girl. Joslin would have a productive talk with her, and hopefully, her son would gain a strong woman to keep his passion in check.
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Arnao Veil lay prostrate in front of his father as they discussed the happenings of his first day at Nexus. On some level, it irked him that his father required such obeisance when no one was around. Why couldn’t the man just be his father for once? He knew that would never happen, though. His father was an ascendant, a True Sage in the stellar rank. An immortal existence.
The man could snuff Arnao soul out with an absent thought. Arnao had seen him do that very thing for no other reason than someone had offhandedly annoyed him. Family was no exception. He was currently favored in his father's eyes. A favor that, if taken away, might cost him his life. Arnao kept his rebellious thoughts to himself.
“So, one of the families has sent a shade into the academy?” His father drummed his finger rhythmically. Arnao couldn’t see it, of course, with his head plastered to the floor, but he could feel the pressure of the man's gaze.
“Well, what else happened after the rank match? We have been seeing some abnormal movement from the Cellini family in the last hour. A peculiar thing given the information you have provided and the fact that so many scions of the Elder families are in your fledgling cohort this year. I’m assuming there is more than your failure to take the first rank,” the tone in his father's last words thrust into his heart like a dagger.
How could he be expected to fight a shade, an assassin? Someone trained in the art of dealing death with every movement of their body. Arnao had trained since birth as well, but not for that. He was capable of killing, he knew. There was no doubt in his mind that the Veil family arts were capable of being deadly. But having the capability and then willingness to use that capability was entirely different. If it wasn’t family policy to let the younger generation grow and advance to at least the pre ascendant rank of Harmony before being allowed to get directly involved in the family business. He was positive his hands would be steeped in blood. He shuddered at the very thought. What kind of damage would that have done to his psyche? His father was bad enough under the limitation the founder edicts presented. If that old monster wasn’t still alive, Arnao was confident that those rules would have been ignored long ago.
Arnao didn’t know his great great great whatever grandfather personally, but he did know that he was powerful enough to be on a first-name basis with the Mantles. His edicts sheltered the younger generation from the total ruthlessness of the older, at least until they became powerful enough to somewhat fend for themselves. If you broke those edicts, then you were gambling with your life. Arnao hadn’t seen the founder enact punishment on a family member before, but he had witnessed the results.
When he was eleven, he ventured out to one of the branch family’s compounds to spar with a cousin. Something he had done many times before. When he arrived at his cousin's home, he found that most members were gone. There was no sign of a struggle, no last stands of defiance from the rule-breakers. All the branch family member's memories altered as though nothing had happened. To defy the founder was to be erased. This was an absolute in the Veil family.
Arnao knew all of the edicts set down by the founder. He could never understand why anyone would break them. Every single one only aided the family as a whole and prevented the older generation from creating soulless monsters out of their children. It didn’t stop them from trying, something Arnao knew firsthand. Either way, it was a kindness that would forever earn loyalty and respect from Arnao.
An impact on his ribs so hard he was sure two had been broken served to remind Arnao who he was speaking to. His father did not like to wait for his answers. He ground his teeth in frustration for his stupid idle thoughts.
“Well, seed? I asked you a question? What excuse do you have for your failure this time?”
Another blade thrust in his back. Planes how he despised this man. An eldritch demon from the void would have been a better parent than this monster.
“I’m sorry father. I managed to obtain the number two slot, but the shade is beyond my capabilities. The shade single-handedly decimated our squad along with most of Luna and Threlen’s families groups as well. Although I did not see it personally there are several accounts of them taking down the whole Cellini family cohort in under a minute the first time.”
Arnao's father's gaze became a physical pressure that bore down on his back. To go any lower in obeisance would require him to lie face down on the floor. What more did the bastard want from him? He felt one of his broken ribs rub together, and he wanted to scream at the pain. A shameful act that would no doubt earn him more broken ribs on the other side of his rib cage. He endured.
“The first time you say. The shade has already fought them twice? In one day?” His father's voice curious.
“Yes, father. Before the ranking were released, the shade was witnessed goading Jano Cellini. Once the Master left, Jano immediately challenged her—,” he wasn't able to get anything else out before a force gripped him by the neck and hoisted his body up. Arnao found himself dangling half a meter off the ground, unable to breathe. What had he said?
“Her. Her. You let a woman beat you in front of all the families.” His father hissed quietly.
Arnao cursed internally at the slip. The Veil family was patriarchal to the extreme. No female held a high position in the family. This wasn’t as common amongst all the branch families but the main branch, and for the seated elders, it was law. Numerous female ascendants could wipe the floor with the majority of the elders, both physically and mentally. That didn’t matter, though.
He tried to speak, but he couldn’t get any air out. Arnao felt veins start to bulge on his temple, and his head felt like a boiling kettle about to blow its top. This was it. The man would finally kill him. A feeling of relief washed over him. At least he would be free of this psycho.
He had suspected for quite some time why his father only had three children after thousands of years of life. Two had escaped and became powerful. According to rumor, they would kill the man if he ever stepped foot off Nexus. But the rest of his possible siblings, he didn’t want to think about it.
The welcomed relief was replaced with hatred as he stared into his father's eyes. He was a vile snake. He didn’t hide his hostility either. He looked defiantly at his father and openly dared the man to kill him with all his being.
The look only amused his father, given the expression of his face. “Good, so you do have a spine. Not that it matters. Only power matters, seed. Something you woefully lack.” He made a disgusted snort before dropping Arnao to the floor. “Continue. I don’t have all night. Tell me everything.”
Arnao caught his breath and assumed the position again. He might not care if the man killed him, but he wouldn’t give him a legitimate excuse to do so. He would make sure that it was clearly murder which would be a broken edict, and hopefully, the founder would bring down his justice upon this monster.
He told his father everything he knew and explained what went down in the common area. How the blue-haired shade had utterly destroyed not only Jano but every single member in the family in a twelve-on-one fight. The Veil elder pondered what he said and left him in silence.
“What's your analysis of the situation? Show me you have more than disappointment and failure inside that tiny skull of yours.” The barb slid into Arnao's gut without feeling this time. This man only thought him a tool. A seed which he 'gifted' his mother. Why should he let his words harm him anymore?
“I believe that if we do not do something to hinder her ascent then no one in the cohort will be able to match her. Our top priority should be focused on ascending through the body stage as quickly as possible. They will allow us to begin in 6 days after the chaff has been culled from our ranks.”
There was no further abuse, so he assumed his father agreed.
“Well, seed, it looks like you have a brain after all. See that it is done. The family has already provided you with everything that you need on that front. Continue to update me via message on the girl’s status. We can’t allow a shade from another family to slip into the main academy campus. The balance there is too precarious. It will be interesting to see what the Cellini’s do about the public disrespect they were shown. I expect results in the next two weeks,” the monster said.
“Yes father.” Arnao said. Two weeks of freedom from this wretched bastard.
He stayed in the same position for five more minutes just to be sure the man was gone before he stood, only to find himself almost nose to nose with his father. Arnao’s heart skip a beat before it started accelerating. He tried to look away from his father's face but the man snagged his chin.
“You didn’t think your little act of defiance would go unpunished, did you?” A malicious glee came over the monster's soulless eyes.
Arnao’s body lifted into the air as vice-like grips latched to each of his appendages. The force was just shy of pulling his arms and legs out of their sockets. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he could feel each beat jarring the broken ribs in his chest. It had been so long since he had messed up this bad in front of his father. He’d been so careful for so long and twice in one conversation he’d managed to slip.
Arnao would not beg though. It would do no good in the face of this demon. He also had his own pride even if it meant nothing to this thing. He felt his father’s power latch onto his nervous system. An agony so profound that it threaten to break his mind rolled throughout his body and Arnao began to scream.