Astor winced as Kren shouted at him, eyes blazing with jealousy. "Why do you keep sneaking off to meet that thug Mitch? You're supposed to be mentoring me!"

The other brainwashed youths gathered around Astor nodded and glared accusingly. They were right, of course - his secret rendezvous with Mitch were risky and irresponsible. But they were Astor's only lifeline to sanity.

"Kren, you know you're still my dearest companion," Astor said gently, taking the boy's hands. "I just need occasional time to myself. To remind myself of who I am beyond all this."

He swept a hand around the stark white facility walls that had become their prison. Kren's expression softened slightly at Astor's rare show of vulnerability. The depth of love and loyalty Astor had cultivated in him overrode even the psychic conditioning.

Astor felt the familiar swell of mingled pride and self-loathing. He cherished Kren's companionship, but despised himself for nurturing it through manipulation.

The same confusing tangle of emotions filled Astor regarding the other four youths gathered around. Revulsion at their brainwashing vied with protectiveness for the innocent souls still buried beneath.

Astor glimpsed his own frightened reflection mirrored in their vacant eyes. He had promised himself long ago that he would set them free someday.

For now, Astor could only secretly counter their conditioning when possible through small acts of tenderness and humanity. Like brief meetings with Mitch, where Astor clung desperately to that tenuous lifeline from his time as just a frightened boy, not the monster sculpted by cruel forces and fragile hopes.

Before the darkness crept fully into his own heart, Astor silently vowed once more to show these youths trapped alongside him that light still lingered if one had the courage to seek it. And pray that when the day of reckoning finally arrived, redemption might yet find them all.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

For Kren, for all of them, Astor must believe that. Even if saving them meant revealing the man he'd become in truth rather than the mentor they adored. Judgment day would come regardless. All that remained was ensuring enough trace of their humanity survived to meet it.

The flickering candle within still refused to gutter out, though the winds of chaos only howled louder outside. Shelter it from the storm; he would, for as long as fate allowed. And if the tempests, at last, overwhelmed them? Well, there were far worse things than drowning in darkness surrounded only by the dying embers of hope.

Let the demon masters sneer in their palaces of bone. One way or another, the light would soon blaze forth to herald a new dawn. And if Astor had to set the kindling aflame with the shattered remains of his worn identity to ignite that final cleansing inferno? Then so he would. There were causes worth burning for, when the night pressed closest around you.

For friendships forged in crisis and souls still worth redeeming, Astor would offer up the man he thought himself to be and count it bargain. No monster could hold back the coming fire. He need only keep the fragile spark alive until the fated moment.

Then, let the old world burn away so that the new sun might rise.

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Mitch grinned as he slid into the booth across from Astor. "Man, it's good to see you! How was the expedition to Dimension X?"

Astor raised an eyebrow. "You really keep up with all my missions, huh?"

Mitch felt his face flush. Crap, he'd let his fanboy obsession slip again. "Uh, I just saw some headlines about it," he mumbled, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Thankfully, Astor let it slide with an amused chuckle. "Well, this trip was a tough one. We lost a few teammates and I got banged up pretty bad." He rolled up his sleeve to show a wicked claw scar.

"Whoa," Mitch breathed, eyes wide. Before he could stop himself, he'd blurted out "Could you sign my scar guidebook next to that one?"

Astor gave him an odd look and Mitch wanted to die of embarrassment. Hurriedly he explained "Sorry, I joined this, uh, enthusiasts group. We make records of all your mission scars for reference."

Mitch cringed internally. Just shut up already! Why'd he have to be such a obsessive creeper?

But Astor just shook his head with an exasperated smile. "You're seriously ridiculous, Mitch, you know that? But sure, I'll sign your weird scar book."

Mitch sagged in relief that Astor always took his quirks in stride. He eagerly slid the logbook over along with a pen. Astor scanned the disturbingly detailed injury descriptions before scribbling his signature by the latest entry.

"So, I wanted to ask," Mitch ventured as Astor passed the book back. "Could you maybe get me autographed photos of the other Frontier explorers sometime? For the collection," he added quickly.

Astor gave him an appraising look. "Only if you give me your word, you aren't stalking them or something."

"No, totally just for safekeeping in the archives!" Mitch promised. "I'm not a creep, really!"

"Debatable," Astor snorted, but he smiled good-naturedly. "I'll see what I can do. Anything for my number one fan."

Mitch flushed with pleasure. He knew his fandom was a borderline obsession. But he couldn't pass up these rare chances to get closer to Astor and his exclusive inner circle.

One autograph at a time, Mitch would glean every scrap of access possible. The portal awakened were going to change the world, and he refused just to watch it happen from the sidelines.