Darkness! Not the calm, empty kind that comes with sleep. No, this one breathed. It pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating, like a living thing wrapping itself around a small, trembling boy. That boy was none other than Seth. Younger, smaller, and alone. The room was cold. Too cold for a place filled with people. Metal walls reflected distorted shapes of movement—figures in white coats walking past as though nothing within this space held any weight. Their voices echoed faintly, clinical, detached, as if they were discussing broken tools rather than human lives.
"…increase the dosage." One said indifferently. "…subject response unstable." Another replied in the same manner.
"…bloodline deviation is promising." They continued with whatever experiments they were doing.
Seth sat in the corner. His knees pulled close to his chest. He didn't cry, not anymore. He had learned quickly that crying did nothing here.
~Aaaaaah~
A boy screamed somewhere behind him. High-pitched, raw, and it cut through the silence like glass shattering. Seth flinched but didn't turn. He had learned that too. Looking… only made it worse. Suddenly, footsteps approached. They were measured and unhurried. The little boy felt the usual feeling that lingered within him ignite anew but his lips twisted into something. A shadow stretched across the floor, stopping just before him.
"Well now…" a voice murmured. It was calm, curious, and unsettling.
"Still smiling, are we?" It added.
Seth's lips were curved, not out of joy or comfort but because he didn't know how to stop. Because if he stopped— something inside him would break completely. He felt the need to hold onto that expression no matter what, for he feared what he might become if he lost himself to the ever-growing madness within him. Finally, a gloved hand gripped his chin, lifting his face upward.
"Fascinating…" Cold eyes, that suited that voice stared into his. They were searching, measuring, and judging. "This one adapts differently." The man added, scrutinizing Seth like a lion would its prey. Pain came next. It always did, along with the needles, heat, and that feeling of something burning through his veins. His body convulsed, muscles tightening beyond control, but the smile remained—twisted now, stretched unnaturally across his face as silent tears slipped down his cheeks.
~Kyaeaaakekahaahae~
The laughter, not his own. It was never his own but that of a twisted side of his very own self. At this point, his sanity was on the edge. Maybe he had already fallen or maybe he had not yet but the edge was present.
"Push him further." An order rang out. "Let's see where he breaks." That voice was so cold as though it was laced with a layer of ice and in that moment, Seth understood something. He wasn't meant to survive. No, he was meant to endure as the darkness swallowed him whole. All he could come up with were the empty promises on how he would avenge himself the day he became free.
Seth's eyes snapped open whilst inhaling sharply. Air rushed into his lungs as if he had been drowning. His body was tense, fingers curled onto the arms of the chair beneath his hands, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He had fallen asleep while waiting for Willow's father to wind up his work. Silence. Real silence. Only the sound of a ticking clock could be heard.
The waiting room in Willow's estate was designed in a cozy style that made one feel at home and the evening sunlight filtering softly through the tall windows played a great role in enhancing the warm coloured room. The furniture and architectural designs within were grandeur.
"…tch." He turned his head slightly, staring at the ceiling. "That again…" His voice was low and detached as if the nightmare belonged to someone else. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his curly hair. For a brief moment, his expression cracked albeit just a little. Then it was gone, replaced by that same familiar composure.
"Get a grip…" He exhaled, standing up.
Moments later, Seth was walking down a long corridor within the estate, guided by a servant who maintained a respectful distance. The place was just as suffocating as the nightmare he had had. Maybe even more. The floors were of polished obsidian and marble, reflecting everything like still water. Massive chandeliers hung above, their light warm but deliberate, illuminating without ever revealing too much. Every hallway was wide, every corner intentional. Portraits of the Viremont lineage lined the walls—generations of power staring down at anyone who dared to walk beneath them. Their expressions varied, but one thing was constant: None of them looked kind and they all had a common physical trait.
They stopped in front of a set of large doors.
"Please enter," the servant said quietly before stepping aside.
Seth didn't hesitate. He pushed the doors open and stepped in. The room was vast yet not overwhelming, and carried a sense of quiet authority rather than a blatant display. Tall shelves lined the walls, filled with books and documents. A large desk sat at the center, positioned before a wide window that overlooked the estate grounds. And behind that desk, sat Willow's father. He didn't look up immediately. Instead, he finished writing something before calmly placing the pen aside. Only then did his gaze rise. Sharp, observant, but not… cruel. One thing that Seth found impressive was the physical trait that the man shared with the portraits in the halls. He had silky long snow-white hair, ocean blue eyes, and smooth black skin. He wasn't fazed though, since such unusual appearances were often common amongst Advanced Humans.
"So," the man said, his voice steady, "you must be Seth Williams."
Seth didn't respond immediately. He walked forward, stopping a few feet away from the desk. "…depends on who's asking." He said sharply his eyes darting around the man's muscular build that was wrapped in an expensive suit. That didn't go unnoticed though and a faint smile appeared on the man's face.
"Fair enough." The man said gently. There was no pressure, no overwhelming aura, and no suffocating presence as Seth had expected. Just…a man.
"Take a seat." Seth hesitated but eventually sat. Silence lingered between them for a moment, but measured. "I imagine you have questions," the man began.
Seth leaned back slightly. "I imagine you already have answers." He gave a mild reply.
Another faint smile. "You're sharper than I expected."
"Don't sound surprised."
"I'm not," the man replied calmly. "Just… curious."
Seth narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…you're not what I expected."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah," Seth said. "You're not trying to intimidate me."
The man chuckled softly.
"And would that work?"
Seth didn't answer. But the silence was enough.
"No," the man said simply. "It wouldn't."
Another pause. Then— "I'll be direct," the man continued. "I'm aware of your… history."
Seth's gaze hardened slightly.
"…figured."
"But I'm not here to exploit you."
That made Seth laugh. A short, sharp sound. This wasn't new to him. As far as he knew, this man before him had his own motives... everyone usually had.
"Yeah, I've heard that one before."
"I expected as much," the man said.
Still calm, still composed.
"I don't need you to trust me," he added. "Not now. Not immediately."
Seth studied him closely, searching for something. A crack, a lie, a hidden intention.
"…then what do you want?" He asked humbly.
The man leaned back slightly.
"Opportunity."
"…for who?"
"For you."
Silence.
Seth frowned.
"…you're serious."
"Very."
The words didn't match the world Seth knew. Didn't align with anything he had experienced. People didn't offer things like that without expecting something in return.
"…what's the catch?"
"There isn't one."
"Bullshit."
The man didn't react.
Instead—
"Think of it as… a correction," he said.
Seth tilted his head slightly.
"…correction?"
"Yes," the man replied. "Some mistakes… shouldn't have been allowed to happen."
That truly caught Seth off guard. He hadn't expected this turn of events but still, this was Austin Viremont he was facing...not just anybody.
"…you're talking about the experiments."
The man's expression shifted subtly but noticeably. He brought his palms together.
"Yes."
Silence fell again but this time it felt different.
"I won't force you into anything," the man said. "But I will offer you a choice."
Seth leaned forward slightly.
"…and if I refuse?"
"Then you walk away." No hesitation. No condition. That was unfamiliar to Seth.
"…you're either very confident," Seth muttered, "or very naive."
The man smiled faintly.
"Perhaps both."
The meeting didn't last much longer after that. No threats, no pressure, just words. Calm, measured, and strange. As Seth stepped out of the room, he paused slightly. "…weird old man," he muttered under his breath. Willow was waiting outside.
"Well?" she asked. Seth glanced at her. "…he's not what I expected."
She didn't reply.
But her expression softened—just a little.
"I'll take you home," she said.
Seth hesitated. Then shrugged. "Do whatever you want."
The ride back was quiet. Too quiet.
That night, far from the quiet elegance of the estate, something else unfolded. A man ran, his breath ragged and uneven. His feet pounded against the pavement, leaving fissures as he darted through narrow alleyways at a lightning-fast speed, glancing back every few seconds. Fear gripped him. Raw and primal.
"Shit… shit… shit…!" He cursed as he ran.
He turned a corner and froze. Silence!
"…no… no, no…"
A figure in black and red, stood ahead. Still and waiting. The man stumbled back, his legs giving out beneath him.
"Please—!"
The figure moved fast. A blur! A flash! Then silence prevailed. The man collapsed, lifeless, on the cold hard ground. A mark was left behind, etched into his skin. Strange and unfamiliar. And then the figure was gone. It was as though it wasn't there in the first place. Only a corpse with a frightened facial expression remained.
Morning came, and it found the young man prepared. Seth groaned as he stepped out of his house.
"…great." He looked down the street.
No bike. "Damn it…" He frowned but smiled helplessly. 'If only I hadn't followed her.' Seth silently mused. He had completely forgotten.
"Now I have to walk…" He shoved his hands into his pockets, beginning the long trek toward school.
"…annoying." He muttered but with a smile etched onto his countenance.
"Need a ride?" A melodious voice rang out behind him.
He stopped and turned. Willow. It was her, driving herself this time round.
"…you again." He said with a faint smile and a roll of his eyes.
She smiled faintly. "Coincidence." Seth raised a brow.
"…yeah, sure."
After a brief pause, he sighed.
"Fine."
He got in.
"So," he began, "about yesterday—"
"Beautiful night, wasn't it?" Willow cut in smoothly.
Seth frowned.
"…seriously?"
She didn't answer directly.
Instead—
"Do you still go there often?"
"…you're dodging."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
Silence!
"…annoying," Seth muttered.
They soon reached school. And that's when he saw it, his bike, or what was left of it.
"…what the hell…" Seth was in disbelief. He got out of Willow's car, attracting many students' attention. Parts scattered, frame dismantled, wheels gone. It was a perfect description of a mess. Seth stood still and remained silent.
Willow glanced at it.
"…"
She knew better than to spout any nonsense right now. Seth wasn't in a good mood. He turned and walked into the school. This time the stares were different though. Not just disdain or mockery but wariness, caution, and fear. 'I'll get to the bottom of this.' He thought to himself as a bit of anger flashed across his eyes.
Willow watched him walk away and shook her head in playful anger. "At least say good bye first then get angry all you want." She muttered. Good for her though, the boy didn't hear her.
"…what now…" Seth muttered.
Then—An announcement echoed through the campus.
"All students, attention."
A pause! Everyone halted their movement, not wanting to miss out on whatever was going to be announced.
"The annual Battle Tournament will commence in two months."
Silence filled the whole campus and halls. Then—Explosion!!!
Cheers!!!
Excitement!!!
Anticipation!!!
Seth stopped walking.
"…tournament, huh…" A faint smile formed as he looked up at the grand pristine white tower in the distance. Not warm, not amused but something else. Something dangerous. And just like that, the calm before the storm began to crack.