As they arrived at the main camp, a woman in her twenties with striking green hair stepped forward to welcome them. This was Subasa, their guide and caretaker. Stepping into the main building, a remarkable shift in atmosphere enveloped the children. It was as if the chaos and turmoil they had just escaped melted away, replaced by a serene calmness that washed over their weary faces.
Subasa clapped her hands once, commanding the attention of the group, and began speaking. Her words were comforting, reassuring the young souls that their lives were no longer in immediate danger. "You need not fear for your lives anymore," she proclaimed, her voice laced with warmth and compassion. "Today, we will discuss some crucial matters, and I encourage you all to ask any questions you may have."
Glenn watched Subasa intently, a sense of alarm creeping over him. The blatant manipulation and brainwashing tactics employed by their captors became painfully evident, leaving him baffled. How could they be so shamelessly obvious? It was in that moment he realized the stark difference between himself and the other children. While they were all below the age of ten, he, at thirteen years old, stood alone. The older children, those from the village, had either been conscripted into the army as proper knights or met a tragic fate on the battlefield. And he, being handicapped, was deemed useless and unworthy of conscription.
The realization struck him bitterly, igniting a mixture of anger, frustration, and a profound sense of isolation. Despite the illusion of safety and care, Glenn couldn't shake the haunting awareness that their lives were still pawns in a much larger game. The journey into the unknown had only just begun, and he knew deep within his soul that the true nature of their existence in this new place would test their resilience and their will to survive.
The weight of uncertainty and the yearning for freedom pressed upon him, fueling his determination to unravel the sinister motives lurking beneath Subasa's veneer of compassion. In this place of newfound tranquility, he sensed a deeper darkness hiding just beneath the surface. With every passing moment, Glenn vowed to uncover the truth and reclaim their stolen lives.
As Glenn stood there, his small stature making him appear no older than ten, he realized that he was likely mistaken for a younger child. The weight of this realization bore down on him, causing his mind to go blank. A torrent of unsettling thoughts flooded his consciousness as he spiraled into a vortex of worst-case scenarios. Lost in his own despair, a sudden voice shattered his thoughts, jolting him back to the present moment.
Raising his gaze, he found himself confronted by a woman who scrutinized him from head to toe. Her initial facade of warmth and affection dissolved into a cold sneer as her eyes fixated on his crippled arm. With an unsettling grip, she forcefully grabbed his arm and callously flung him aside. Glenn's heart sank as he caught sight of her contemptuous expression, a reflection of the disdain he had encountered all too often.
The weight of those disdainful faces, etched deeply in his memory, bore down on Glenn's fragile spirit. He had seen the contemptuous glances, the sneers, and the pitying gazes countless times in his village. Even his own parents, the people who were supposed to love and protect him, had regarded him with that same mixture of disappointment and disdain. The surge of disgust welled up within him, a burning anger that fueled a growing resentment toward those who saw him as nothing more than a broken, insignificant being.
In the depths of his soul, Glenn questioned his own worth. Was it his fault that his right hand had been rendered useless, forever marking him as different? Was he to blame for the cruelty he had endured, the rejection and isolation that had become his constant companions? The unfairness of it all crashed upon him like a relentless wave, threatening to drown him in a sea of self-doubt and despair.Yet, amid the depths of his anguish, a flicker of defiance ignited within him. No longer would he allow himself to be defined by the disdainful glances or the cruel judgments of others.
As the other children assembled around them, their curious gazes fixated on Glenn, desperate to understand the cause of the sudden upheaval. The air hung heavy with tension, as if the atmosphere itself held its breath, awaiting the next turn of events. Subasa's voice pierced through the silence, devoid of the warmth it had previously possessed. It cut through the stillness like a sharp blade, leaving no room for uncertainty.
Her words were not accompanied by a scream or a yell, yet their impact reverberated through the air with an intensity that sent shivers down Glenn's spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin, his body instinctively reacting to the eerie power of her voice. The remnants of the previous assault still lingered, visible in the tremors that coursed through his hand and the subtle pain that pulsed from his broken ribs.Glenn stood there, his entire being a testament to the harsh reality that had unfolded before him. His trembling hand served as a constant reminder of the violence he had endured, while the ache in his ribs echoed the pain inflicted upon him. In this surreal moment, time seemed to stretch, each passing second dragging with it the weight of his physical and emotional torment.
Subasa's words rang out with a chilling finality, slicing through the air like a sharpened blade. "We don't need trash who can't earn their keep.We
are not a charity," she declared, her voice devoid of compassion. In that moment, it was as if the world itself had shifted, morphing into an unforgiving realm where only the strong survived.
Glenn's heart pounded in his chest, a symphony of fear and desperation. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, a tangible manifestation of the impending doom that loomed before him. The weight of Subasa's accusation bore down upon him, her accusatory finger pointing directly at his trembling form. It was a jolt to his very core, a surge of adrenaline that ignited his survival instincts.
With a surge of primal instinct, Glenn's body sprang into motion. His legs carried him swiftly, like a hunted animal fleeing from its predator. The forest beckoned, its shelter promising a respite from the clutches of impending death. In that moment, the calculated risk of facing the unknown in the forest seemed preferable to the certain demise that awaited him within those walls.
He trusted the gnawing sensation deep within his gut, a primal intuition that had guided him through the brutal chaos of war. It had become his unwavering ally, a voice that whispered of danger and steered him towards fleeting moments of survival. In the face of Subasa's icy declaration, Glenn heeded its call, relying on his instincts to navigate the treacherous path ahead.
In a cruel twist of fate, Glenn stood defenseless before the wrath of Subasa. His tired and emaciated form seemed to wither under her gaze. With a flick of her slender fingers, a tempest of scorching flames erupted, enveloping him in a merciless inferno. The searing heat consumed his frail body, scorching his flesh with an unrelenting brutality.
Tears streamed down Glenn's face, their crystalline trails mingling with the cascading sweat of his torment. Agonized screams tore from his parched throat as he desperately fled, the flames licking at his heels. The once pristine snow around him transformed into a canvas of white turned orange and red, a vivid tableau of pain and destruction.
Rolling and writhing upon the frozen ground, Glenn sought refuge from the relentless assault, but the flames clung to him tenaciously, seething and crackling as they devoured his fragile form. The scent of burning flesh hung heavy in the air, a sickening reminder of the anguish that consumed him. His world blurred with agony, his vision distorted by tears and the ethereal dance of fiery torment.
Driven by an instinctual will to survive, Glenn pressed forward, his body a battleground of searing pain. Each step he took sent jolts of excruciating agony through his weary limbs, threatening to shatter his resolve. The forest bore witness to his valiant struggle, its ancient trees casting mournful shadows upon the tortured figure that traversed its hallowed grounds.
As the flames gradually subsided, their insatiable hunger waning, Glenn found himself at the precipice of exhaustion. He stumbled, his weakened body barely able to withstand the weight of his anguish. With labored breaths, he surveyed the desolate landscape that bore witness to his suffering. The silence of the forest echoed his sorrow, a haunting requiem for a spirit broken by the cruel hands of fate.
In this desolate sanctuary, Glenn's body surrendered to the overwhelming tragedy that befell him. Collapsing onto the unforgiving ground, he lay there, his spirit crushed beneath the weight of his sorrow. The forest whispered mournful melodies, as if mourning the loss of innocence and the tragic fate that had befallen one so young. It was a scene of unspeakable sadness, a testament to the depths of human suffering and the fragility of hope.
After an arduous search, Glenn's weary eyes landed upon a glimmering lake, a shimmering oasis in the midst of the unforgiving forest. With trembling steps, he approached the water's edge, hoping for respite and a moment of solace. But as he peered into the reflective depths, his own reflection stared back at him with haunting unfamiliarity.
His once vibrant hair now bore the scars of fire, the roots singed and blackened in scattered patches. The right side of his face still bore the raw marks of recent burns, a painful reminder of the inferno that had consumed him moments ago. The reflection before him was a shattered mirror of his former self, a visage marred by the cruelties of this treacherous world he had stumbled into.
In the depths of his being, a mix of emotions churned. Uncertainty tugged at his heartstrings, playing a discordant melody of fear and intrigue. The memory of the searing flames held a strange allure, an inexplicable fascination that sparked within him an unexpected sense of exhilaration. It was a twisted dance between danger and curiosity, a delicate balance on the precipice of the unknown.
As the sun sank beneath the horizon, casting long shadows that swallowed the forest in darkness, a palpable unease settled upon Glenn's trembling frame. The rhythmic thumping of his heart echoed in his ears, each beat a thunderous reminder of the lurking threats that surrounded him. His instincts, honed by survival in a world scarred by conflict, screamed warnings wherever he turned, urging him to stay vigilant and watchful.
With each passing moment, anxiety coiled around his soul, tightening its grip with an almost suffocating intensity. The once-familiar sounds of the forest became a cacophony of imagined predators, their unseen presence clawing at his consciousness. Every rustle of leaves, every distant hoot of an owl, sent shivers of paranoia coursing through his veins. The sanctuary of the forest had become a sinister maze, concealing perils that threatened to consume him.
In this labyrinth of fear, Glenn grappled with conflicting emotions. His desire for refuge clashed with the urgency to keep moving, to find safety beyond the ominous embrace of the trees. The night, with its shroud of darkness, became a haunting specter, amplifying his sense of vulnerability. Every step forward felt like a gamble, a leap into the unknown.
As he ventured deeper into the night, guided by an instinctual compass, Glenn clung to a flickering flame of hope. The path ahead may have been treacherous, but the fire within him burned brighter, refusing to be extinguished. It was a journey through fear and uncertainty, a battle against the odds in a world that seemed intent on devouring him.
