A couple of knocking sounds resounded and startled both of us, as we were gazing at his reflection.

"Akir?" An old man said from the other side of the door.

"Yes?" He answered, trying to sound normal, even though he had been crying just half a minute ago.

"May I come in?" The old man asked.

"What for?" He asked innocently.

"I'm supposed to check your progress." The old man answered.

"Oh, okay. Come in." He said, and soon after the door on our right opened.

'This scene seems familiar.' I thought.

In walked an old man with slicked back black hair with some gray mixed in. The man was wearing a perfectly fitting black and white suit that gave him an air of sophistication.

The old man sauntered elegantly past us to the wooden table and took the papers that had some wet spots on them into his hands and looked through them.

It didn't take long until his expression turned into one of disappointment. He put the papers back on the table and turned to us with an expression of indifference.

"It seems that you have yet again failed as a student." The old man said, as he walked closer to us.

"No, I understand how it's supposed to be done, it's just that those questions were much harder than the ones I-" He started explaining in a panic but was interrupted by the old man grabbing the back of his neck with unprecedented force. "Ahh, wait, stop." He struggled but couldn't do anything about the old man's solid grip.

"You need more focus, more determination. You are just a project. Don't think that the master's mind is clouded by emotions. He is far beyond showing mercy, just because you are his son." The butler once again repeated the same speech that he gave me every time this happened.

I just watched it happen. I didn't feel angry. If anything, I felt amused. He just couldn't accept his fate, could he? He just kept struggling and yelling sorry like it was going to change something.

After a while, me, him and the butler arrived before a metal door. The old man opened the door with his left hand and threw us in. I couldn't feel anything but I assumed that it was cold in the room, since it didn't take long before he went to sit against the wall, curled up, and started shivering.

The seconds passed like minutes, the minutes felt like hours, and the hours went as slowly as days.

"Die, just die." He mumbled. "Die, die, die, die, die..." He continued.

Then shortly after, his breathing quickened, and he started weeping.

'This is kind of boring.' I thought, as I witnessed the frail child weeping uncontrollably.

Such simple actions could prevent all this, but he was just too incompetent to learn simple things.

"No. That's not..." He started talking.

'Oh, so now he's talking to himself. Great!' I thought. 'Hey, voice, this is pointless. Can we just skip to the next scene.' I thought, but didn't get a response.

***

'A couple of hours have already passed. It should be about time.' I thought and shortly after the large door opened with a loud creek.

"It's time." The old man informed and gestured for him to go back to his room.

He stood up slowly and sniffed a little, as he walked out of the cold room with his head down.

I observed the red carpet with symbols on it, as he was walking back into his room.

After we arrived in his room, he went straight into bed and covered his face with a pillow and started crying again.

It was a truly frustrating sight.

If I could give him advice, it would go along the lines of, "break the pattern today or the loop will repeat tomorrow.".

"Shut up." He said like he had heard me, and again I felt my consciousness being sucked inside itself.

***

Again I found myself studying in my room, but this time I wasn't crying and almost all the questions on the paper were answered.

It was peaceful, but my body seemed to be completely exhausted.

He was blinking a lot and on the verge of falling asleep, but then the door to the room was flung open.

He almost fell off the chair in shock.

The servants always knocked, but this time there was no knock.

It was him!

The man walking aggressively towards me was a 30-year-old man with a muscular frame and gray eyes, that were hard to see because his black hair that covered his forehead got into the way.

He unconsciously stood up and tried to look confident, but as the man got closer, he shrank back into a small, cowardly child.

"What is this!" The man yelled and smacked the stack of papers he had in his hand onto the table I had my papers on.

"A...I." He was trying to articulate an answer, when a large and extremely hard fist hit the left side of his face.

He fell onto the floor, barely managing to keep my eyes open.
1
"Master!" The old man yelled, as he rushed into the room. "Oh, no. Akir!" The old man yelled, but his father put an arm up to prevent him from reaching me.

"Leave him. He's no longer your responsibility." His father said.

"But-" The old man insisted.

"You heard me." His father said firmly.

"What about the project."

"It ends here. This project is a failure, a waste of time. His improvements aren't rapid enough." My father said.

"Have you forgotten about his potential, the darkness in his eyes that scared even you?" The old man said.

"It is clear now that I was wrong. Such potential does not exist." His father answered indifferently as he gazed at him in disgust.

"Then what are we going to do to Akir?" The old man asked, as he looked at his sorry figure.

I had managed to stay conscious, but couldn't move and barely heard what they were saying.

"Send him to-" His father was saying, but his eyes closed, and I could no longer follow the scene.

***

A few days went by, and he found himself in a facility that was far away from society. His room was only large enough to fit a bed and a table.

He had sunk into a deep depression and just slept all the time. The facility was hell. All freedom was taken away, and endless tasks were given to replace it. Well, he had deserved this. He could have prevented this by simply being better, but was unable to. Well, there was no happy future for him in any case. If he had stayed there, then he would have just spent my life as his father's project.

Actually there was a chance of him living a happy life, but it was ripped away when his mother decided to sell him to his father.

Even though he was born as a human, he was treated and sold like an object. But now he was such a broken object that his value had sunk to the negatives. The owner now had to pay others to take care of him. He was a castaway with no one. All that remained for him was suffering and loneliness. That was his life. No purpose, just suffering and loneliness.

Gradually he began to die on the inside and on one day he was completely lifeless, and I came to life.

"Haaah." I breathed for the first time in my life, shortly after waking up.

Finally, I had control of the body.

The disappointment was gone, and the change was all that remained.

"Puhahahahaha." I broke into hysterical laughter on my bed, as I covered my face with one hand.

'Let's see how long it'll take.' I thought in amusement.

***

A couple of years passed, and I was out of the facility, well, more like out of what remained of the facility.

I got my first taste of freedom at the cost of other's lives, but my freedom still wasn't complete. I needed money, lots of it. I could commit crimes, but that would lead to a dangerous life, and with my skills I could make enough money to last a lifetime in only a few years.

I had no time for meaningless things like revenge. It was just a waste of time and a search for me had most likely already begun, so it was best to keep a low profile.

Thus, my path was decided.

I was going to reach true freedom and nothing could stop me.