2026-01-20 21:30:51The hut fell quiet after Eli left.
Andrew let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and leaned back against the cracked wall. The thin wood pressed uncomfortably into his spine, but he barely noticed. His thoughts drifted far from Ashwake House, far from Aetherion, back to a life that now felt like a dream fading at dawn.
Nightclubs filled with neon lights. Music so loud it drowned out thought. People who smiled when he entered a room because his name carried weight. Women who laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t funny. Cars, money, power. Control.
His father.
Andrew’s jaw tightened.
For the first time since waking in this world, regret seeped in quietly. Not loud, not dramatic. Just a dull ache. He had lived like tomorrow was guaranteed. Like consequences were for other people.
Now tomorrow had arrived wearing rags and hunger.
He scoffed softly. “Pathetic,” he muttered, unsure whether he was insulting his past self or his present one.
He exhaled and stared at the ceiling, listening to the distant sounds of Ashwake House. Footsteps. Raised voices. Someone laughing bitterly. Someone else crying. Survival echoed everywhere.
So this is my new life, he thought. Starting from the bottom.
A sudden noise shattered the quiet.
The hut’s curtain was yanked aside, and Eli stumbled in, gasping for air.
Andrew sat up instantly. “What—”
“Hide,” Eli blurted out.
Andrew frowned. “What?”
“They’re back,” Eli said, bending over, hands on his knees as he struggled to breathe. “The guys from earlier. The ones who—” He swallowed. “They’re looking for trouble.”
Andrew stood despite the protest from his body. “Good.”
Eli’s head snapped up. “Good?”
Andrew’s eyes hardened. “I was hoping they would come.”
Eli stared at him like he had truly lost his senses. “You’re serious.”
“They should come,” Andrew repeated calmly. “I’m not running.”
Eli grabbed his arm. “You can barely stand straight! This isn’t some story where things magically work out!”
Andrew looked down at Eli’s hand on his sleeve. Slowly, deliberately, he removed it.
“I’m done hiding,” he said.
Eli shook his head, panic flashing across his face. “No. No, you don’t understand. These guys don’t fight fair. They don’t stop when they should.”
“I know,” Andrew replied quietly.
That was exactly why he wanted them to come.
Eli grabbed his shoulders and pushed him toward the back of the hut. “You hide. Just for now. Please.”
Andrew hesitated.
Eli met his eyes. “For me.”
Something twisted in Andrew’s chest. He looked away, then nodded once.
“Fine.”
Eli shoved him into one of the smaller side rooms barely big enough to stand in. Andrew pressed himself into the shadows as Eli closed the door, his footsteps retreating.
Moments later, loud voices approached.
“Well, well,” a mocking voice said. “Look who’s still breathing.”
Andrew clenched his fists.
The leader’s voice carried easily, dripping with disdain. “Where’s your friend, round boy? We weren’t done with him yet.”
“I don’t know,” Eli replied, forcing a shaky laugh. “He left. I just got back.”
“You expect us to believe that?” another voice sneered.
The door creaked open wider. Andrew could see through the narrow gap as five boys entered the hut. Their posture was relaxed, confident. Cruel.
The leader stepped closer to Eli. “You think we’re stupid?”
“I swear,” Eli said quickly. “He was gone when I came back.”
“Search the place,” the leader ordered.
Two of them moved toward the rooms.
Eli stepped in front of them. “Hey—this is all we have. Leave it alone.”
The leader’s smile vanished. “Move.”
Eli didn’t.
The next moment, he was shoved aside and hit the floor hard. Andrew’s vision narrowed.
The sounds that followed made his jaw clench tighter with each second. Eli tried to scramble up, only to be knocked down again. Laughter filled the hut.
“Stay out of grown men’s business,” someone mocked.
Inside the room, Andrew’s breathing grew heavy. His body trembled, not from fear, but from restraint.
This is because of me.
Eli cried out once, then went quiet.
Andrew stepped forward.
The door burst open.
The room fell silent.
All eyes turned to him.
“Well,” the leader said slowly, looking Andrew up and down. “There you are.”
Eli looked up, disbelief written across his face. “Andrew… no…”
Andrew ignored him and walked forward, his posture straight despite the pain screaming through his muscles.
The leader laughed. “You came out on your own? Brave. Or stupid.”
Andrew stopped a few steps away. “You’re done here.”
The hut erupted in laughter.
“Did you hear that?” one of them said. “He’s ordering us around.”
Another cracked his knuckles. “Guess he wants another lesson.”
They moved together.
Andrew moved first.
He didn’t charge blindly. He stepped in, redirected a swing, and used the momentum against them. Surprise flashed across their faces as one stumbled back into another.
“What—?”
Andrew struck again, sharper this time. Controlled. Efficient.
The hut echoed with shouts of shock and anger. Two went down quickly, scrambling to get back up. Another hesitated, eyes wide.
“This isn’t the same guy,” someone muttered.
Andrew breathed hard, but his eyes were clear. Focused.
One rushed him from behind. Andrew twisted, using the narrow space to his advantage. The boy crashed into the wall instead.
The fourth fell moments later, backing away in disbelief.
Only the leader remained standing.
He stared at his fallen friends, then back at Andrew, rage twisting his features. “Useless fools,” he spat. “You couldn’t handle one poor, powerless man?”
Andrew chuckled softly.
The sound sent a chill through the hut.
“Poor,” Andrew repeated. “Powerless.”
He stepped forward.
The leader swung wildly. Andrew dodged, closed the distance, and struck once—hard enough to make the leader stagger back and fall.
Silence.
The leader scrambled up, fear finally replacing arrogance. “This isn’t over,” he snapped, backing toward the door.
Andrew said nothing.
The five of them fled.
Andrew stood still, chest rising and falling, as the curtain settled back into place.
Behind him, Eli stared in stunned silence.
“…What just happened?” Eli whispered.
Andrew finally turned.
“I told you,” he said quietly. “I’m not the same anymore.”
Eli swallowed.
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The Second Phase Begins
The courtyard did not empty when the names were finished.That was the first sign.The caretakers ordered everyone else away—those whose names had not been called. No explanations were given. No comfort offered. The unselected were herded back toward the dormitories in small groups, watched closely until they disappeared through the gates.Some of them looked back.Others didn’t.Andrew noticed how quickly they were forgotten.The fifty who remained were kept standing under the open sky. No one told them to sit. No one dismissed them. Time passed in silence, broken only by the scrape of boots and the low murmurs of caretakers conferring among themselves.Eli stood a few steps away from Andrew, shoulders tense, hands clenched at his sides.Neither of them spoke.Hunger settled in slowly, deliberate and intentional. It wasn’t sharp yet, but it was noticeable. Andrew recognized it immediately for what it was.Pressure.A man Andrew had not seen before stepped into the courtyard.He wore
Those Who Are Watched
Andrew’s answer didn’t sound heroic.It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.But Eli stopped walking.For a second, the noise of Ashwake House faded—the shuffle of feet, the muttered complaints, the caretakers barking orders in the distance.Eli turned slowly. “You didn’t even hesitate.”Andrew met his eyes. “Why would I?”Eli stared at him, searching for something—sarcasm, arrogance, regret.He found none.“You don’t know what they’re offering,” Eli said. “People leave with caravans and don’t come back. Some end up in Blackmere proper. Some disappear.”Andrew’s expression didn’t change. “And?”“And you still said no.”Andrew exhaled through his nose. “I said not without you.”Eli looked away first.“Careful,” he muttered. “That kind of promise gets people killed in places like this.”“Then don’t make me regret it,” Andrew replied.They reached the hut just as a caretaker’s voice cut through the yard.“All residents remain inside. Representatives are touring the grounds.”The door was sla
When Morning Changes the Rules
The morning came too early.Andrew knew it before he opened his eyes.The bell didn’t ring—it attacked.Metal screamed against metal, sharp and relentless, tearing through Ashwake House without mercy. It wasn’t the lazy, half-hearted ringing of ordinary mornings. This was deliberate. Angry. A command rather than a call.“Up!”A caretaker’s voice followed immediately, loud enough to echo.“Everyone up! Outside. Now!”Andrew’s eyes snapped open.For a brief moment, clarity flooded him.The pain in his ribs was still there, a dull pressure beneath his skin, but it no longer ruled him. His limbs felt lighter. His breathing steadier. That strange calm from the night before resurfaced, quiet but firm, settling into his bones.Prepared.The word surfaced without permission.Andrew frowned slightly as he sat up.Around him, the hut stirred—but not the way it usually did.There were no groans. No curses. No slow complaints about aching joints or cold floors.Only whispers.Low. Nervous. Sharp.
Those Who Want More
The stew was warm.That alone felt like a luxury.Andrew cradled the chipped bowl in both hands, letting the heat seep into his fingers before lifting it to his lips. The liquid was thin, barely more than water tinted brown, with a few floating scraps that might once have been vegetables. Still, when he swallowed, his stomach clenched eagerly, accepting whatever it was given without complaint.Around him, the hall hummed with quiet desperation.No one spoke loudly. No one laughed. The scraping of bowls, the occasional cough, the shuffle of feet against stone, these were the only sounds allowed. Even Eli, usually incapable of staying silent, ate with uncharacteristic focus, his head bent low, shoulders hunched protectively over his portion.Andrew noticed that too.Food isn’t just nourishment here, he thought. It’s territory.He finished half the bowl slowly, forcing himself to pace his bites. The hunger hadn’t vanished. It never truly did. But the sharp edge had dulled, replaced by a
Hunger Has a Schedule
The silence that followed Eli’s last words lingered like dust in the air.Andrew was still thinking about the caravan, about tests and gates and cracks in cages, when a sharp, unmistakable sound cut through his thoughts.Grrr.His stomach twisted violently, the ache sudden and humiliating. Andrew stiffened, one hand pressing instinctively against his abdomen. The hunger hit harder than before, as if his body had finally decided to remind him of its priorities.Eli blinked, then burst out laughing.“Oh no,” he said, pointing. “Don’t tell me you forgot about that too.”Andrew shot him a flat look. “My body seems determined to remember everything I don’t.”Eli wiped at his eyes, still grinning. “Yeah, well, your body’s right. It’s almost dinner time.”“Dinner?” Andrew repeated skeptically.Eli was already standing. “If you want to call it that.”Andrew pushed himself up, moving slower this time. His muscles protested, stiff and sore from the earlier fight, and the hunger only made it wor
Cracks in the Cage
Andrew didn’t collapse immediately.He stood there long after the others fled, chest rising and falling unevenly, eyes fixed on the doorway as if expecting them to return. His fists were clenched so tightly his fingers trembled. The adrenaline that had carried him through the fight still hummed beneath his skin, sharp and restless.Then it faded.The pain arrived all at once.His knees buckled, and he barely caught himself against the wall. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as fire spread through his ribs, his arms, his legs—everywhere at once. His vision blurred, the world tilting dangerously.“Hey—!” Eli rushed forward and grabbed him. “Don’t you dare fall now!”Andrew let out a low breath, teeth clenched. “I’m… fine.”“You’re lying,” Eli said flatly, hauling him toward the wall and forcing him to sit. “You’re always lying.”Andrew slumped down, the strength draining out of him like water from a cracked cup. His head dropped back against the wood, eyes closing as he focused on breathing
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