Standing in the cool night air, beneath the moon, I was badly shaken.

  I held the photographs in front of my visor so that Enki could see them through my own eyes.

  I just kept breathing in and out. Sempronius, I wouldn’t call him father again, had always been driven. He’d been ruthless and ambitious. He had made a slave out of me to serve his ambition of winning a title and a place in the nobility. But this? This exceeded anything I had ever imagined.

  I remembered the hare-lipped man talking about the wagons of children Sempronius had bought. Wagons that included me one fateful day. I had wondered what had happened to the others, why I was the one he had raised as a son. Now I knew. They had all died. He’d seen them die at his own hands by the dozen until one passed whatever challenge he had been pressing on them in that restraining chair.

  I found the focus to say,

  I nodded. I felt it leave. I was getting better at sensing when Enki was with me and when it wasn’t.

  I looked at my gauntleted hands. I let the armor slither back until I was looking at my own flesh. I was the prodigy of prodigies. I had gained powers and attributes faster than any Griidlord in memory, maybe in history. I had wondered at that at times. It had been a source of pride. I was different to the others. I was better. For all the beatings my self-esteem had taken at Sempronius’s hands… I was still good enough… except…

  The rush of Enki’s presence filled the suit again.

  I said,

  I said,

  I said,

  I felt emotion flush me. They weren’t eggs. They were people! Children! No different to me! And they had to die to serve that fucker’s goals? By the Oracle, I fucking hate him. I’d kill him again myself if he hadn’t died already.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  I roared, aloud, “ENOUGH WITH YOUR REFERENCES! This isn’t light hearted. There’s a graveyard down there of murdered children… and I… I don’t know what I am…”

  I nodded slowly. It made so much sense. Sempronius had forced that sickened childhood on me too. My fist clenched, almost of its own accord and smashed through the wall of the monastery beside me. Bricks turned to dust in an explosion of force, the whole structure shaking.

  I snarled, “I’m not going back down there!”

  My eyes widened,

  Enki laughed in my brain. Long and roaring.

  I spat, “I don’t want any more to do with it!”

  I looked down at the flesh of my hands again, in revulsion. “I’m already a freak.”

  I did pause. The power called to me. From the moment I put the training suit on I had yearned for this power. From the day I increased my level the first time I had been addicted to the rush. I had grown stronger than Griidlords who should have terrified me. I wanted it. I did want to tower over the others. And I wanted the ability to make these things happen. To beat Buffalo, and Danefer, and the upheaval I planned…

  I said,

  I whispered,

  Silence.

  I stopped, narrowing my eyes.

  A long sighing sound filled my mind.

  I said,

  I stepped back.

  I said,

  I thought of Racquel and the blossoming feelings there. I thought of Perdinger and the rage that boiled. These were the things that made me. I wouldn’t be me without them. What you’re talking about is a kind of slow suicide.

  I stopped, breathing. Taking the information in.

  Lines of light sliced the air before me, building a door of pure brilliant whiteness. I stepped through, back to my lands, my war, intending to forget about this terrible place.