The Great Hall - Chapter 10

The arrival at the mothership had been surprisingly uneventful, but the heavy silence filling the space was more deafening than any sound. All the survivors were lost in their own thoughts, haunted by the images and sounds of the previous day. Tyrin was no different. He felt as though a cold weight had been pressing on his chest ever since the girl had been killed. His mind replayed that moment over and over again: her confident smile, the hope reflected in her eyes… all stolen with a single shot.

He could still remember the dull thud of her body hitting the ground, the small cub instinctively running to her side, and the second shot, as cruel as the first. The sight of blood pooling on the floor... this wasn't an execution. It was a spectacle. A reminder of the Baron's absolute power.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push the scene out of his mind. Even his stomach, empty since their departure, seemed to want to reject something. "How can they live like this?" he thought as he followed the group down to join hundreds of other children in the main hall.

"Everyone, move now and be at Gate 8 in 10 minutes!" barked the sharp voice of one of the Baron's servants, echoing through the corridors of the ship. The children, still dazed, began moving quickly, trying to avoid drawing attention. The last thing anyone wanted was to face the wrath of a Baron's servant—or worse, the Baron himself.

Tyrin moved with the flow, observing the faces around him. Some were completely unfamiliar, but others he recognized from fleeting glimpses in the corridors or dormitories. Nearly all of them kept their eyes downcast, fixed on the floor, and many still bore visible signs of the trials they'd endured. Poorly healed wounds, bruises scattered across their bodies, torn clothes—signs that they were alive by sheer luck or an almost desperate determination.

"So, this is what's left of us," he murmured to himself.

The ship's corridors were cold, made of gleaming metal, but devoid of any luxury. Each step he took seemed to echo too loudly, as if even the sound of his movements might attract unwanted attention. He reached Gate 8 along with the others, feeling the tension in the air grow thicker.

As they passed through the massive metallic gates, Tyrin was struck by what he saw. The hall was a vast, open chamber illuminated by an artificial light emanating from large floating globes. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of children gathered. All were organized into distinct groups, representing different planets or regions controlled by the Baron.

The atmosphere was suffocating. It was hard to believe that all these young people had gone through experiences similar to his own. Some children appeared calm, but most displayed expressions of fear and exhaustion. Tyrin noticed that, despite the apparent differences, there was something that connected them all: a shared sense of helplessness.

He found a spot near one of the walls and tried to blend in, avoiding attention. The tension was almost palpable, but it was shattered by the amplified voice of the Baron.

"Finally, you are all gathered," he announced from an elevated pulpit. His imposing figure, cloaked in a cape adorned with symbols and vibrant colors, dominated the space. His presence was like a shadow that enveloped the entire room.

"Welcome to my domain."

His voice echoed with an almost hypnotic force. There was something unsettling about the way he spoke, a disconcerting balance between charm and menace. He paused deliberately, letting his words hang in the air like blades ready to strike.

"Today, we will begin distributing the gifts," he continued, with a smile that Tyrin knew was laced with mockery. "Of course, I see that many of you have already received your gifts…" He laughed, and the sound was like a scratch on the soul of everyone present.

"However, I ask that those who have not yet been blessed with the Gene proceed to the cabins indicated by your leaders."

The groups began to move. Tyrin watched as children from warrior planets, the Essentials, organized themselves into impeccable rows, already resembling trained soldiers. They marched with discipline, their expressions so firm they seemed carved from stone. In contrast, other groups were chaotic—frightened children who had to be pushed or dragged along by their companions. The stark differences between the planets were striking. Some seemed to have sent their best; others, anyone who could still breathe.

"Inhabitants of planets Tirinida, Traavaus, Platonic. Follow me," announced one of the Baron's servants, his voice resonating through the hall.

Meanwhile, Tyrin tried to approach the line of those who had not yet received the Gene. He knew he was late, but he had no choice. He needed to receive the dose, even if it meant facing the excruciating process he knew was coming.

But before he could join the line, a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey, you want to die? Get back to your team now!" barked a servant, his voice full of authority.

"I need to take my Gene dose," Tyrin replied, his voice steady despite the knot tightening in his throat.

The servant narrowed his eyes at him, disbelief clear in his expression. "Liar. All of you were dosed before being sent here. I reviewed the records myself."

"What's going on here?" The Baron's voice cut through the air like a blade. He floated above the group, moving with an unsettling grace, his levitation field casting a faint glow around him.

"My Lord Baron, forgive me," the servant said, dropping to his knees. "This boy claims he hasn't received the Gene."

The Baron landed softly on the ground, just a few meters from Tyrin. His gaze, laden with something Tyrin couldn't decipher, settled on him.

"Tyrin, isn't it?" He approached, his eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and malice. "You never cease to surprise me."

"Why haven't you taken the Gene?" he asked, his voice now lower but still dripping with authority.

Tyrin took a deep breath before responding. "I was in training on my planet and was sent to replace someone who died. I didn't have time to receive the Gene."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the hall. All eyes were on them. Tyrin knew his explanation was true, but he also knew that any misstep could cost him his life.

The Baron studied him for a long moment before laughing. "Ah! How delightful! I do hope you don't die in that chair, boy. Death by Gene overlay is horrifying, even by my standards." He waved his hand, dismissing Tyrin.

"Get out of my sight. Go to your cabin."

Tyrin quickly moved to where he was supposed to take the injection but was met with a welcome surprise.

"How did you get here? Actually, how were you allowed to be here? I thought only the Baron's people were permitted here."

Karin gave a faint smile, but there was a weary gleam in her eyes. Despite her composed appearance, it was evident she was carrying more than she let on.

"You know, it's a funny story," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the nearby table. "Let's just say… I wanted to support you and be by your side."

Tyrin raised an eyebrow. "Support? Since when did I become a priority for you?"

Before she could answer, her expression turned more serious. "It's not just about you, Tyrin. It's about survival. Mine, yours, and everyone else who still matters. This mission was calculated, but for it to work, I had to make some sacrifices."

Two Days Earlier

The sky was blanketed with dense clouds, and the room where Dante and Karin were talking was steeped in shadows. Only the faint light of a flickering lamp illuminated the room, casting restless silhouettes on the walls.

"I don't want to go," Karin said, her fists clenched on the table. Her eyes were full of determination, but fear lingered in them as well.

Dante, sitting across from her, seemed calm, but his eyes betrayed his concern. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But you have to go. You're the key piece to avoid getting caught."

"And what guarantees me that the Baron won't kill me as soon as he realizes someone from the Inner Centurion is on his turf? Dante, you know how he is."

"I do," he replied seriously. "But you've lost your planet, Karin. That's a fact. The Inner Centurion won't protect you. What you have now is an opportunity to hide in plain sight. And, in the process, we can use this to save what's left of our cause."

She stood up, pacing back and forth in the small room. "You're asking me to surrender. You're asking me to trust that the Baron won't just get rid of me the moment I step onto his territory."

"I'm not asking," Dante countered, standing up as well. He leaned toward her, his voice low but firm. "I'm telling you this is your only chance. There, you can become an auxiliary noble on a planet no one values. A planet the Baron barely pays attention to. You'll go unnoticed but still have enough influence to survive. Better to be a living noble on a poor planet than a dead noble on a rich one, don't you think?"

She stopped pacing, her hands trembling slightly. "And if this goes wrong, Dante?"

He hesitated for a moment before responding. "I've placed another pawn, in case the first one fails. If things go wrong, I'll do what I can to get you out of there. But, Karin, this has to work. It's the only way."

She stared at him for long seconds before sighing deeply. "Okay. But I need all the information about this operation. I need your guarantee that I'll be high-ranking on that planet. And I want it in advance."

Dante gave a small, satisfied smile. "Deal."

______________

Karin looked at Tyrin, who seemed to be absorbing everything in silence. He still had questions, but he knew he might never get all the answers.

"So, you're here… undercover," he concluded, trying to piece it all together. "What do you want from me, besides survival?"

"Yes, undercover. And what do I want from you? Simple, Tyrin. I want you not to die. You're more important than you think."

"Important? I'm just a kid sent to replace someone who died," he countered, shaking his head. "Why the hell would I be important?"

Karin stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You're a survivor. You understand things even the nobles don't. You know how to play this game, even if you think you don't. And if you manage to survive, we can change more than you imagine."

He looked into her eyes, trying to understand her intentions. There was something there, something that felt bigger than him. For a brief moment, he wondered what she knew about him that he didn't know himself.

"Fine," he said finally. "So what happens now?"

Karin gave a tired smile. "Now? Now you lie down on that bed and prepare for the transformation. It's time for you to receive the Gene. And, well… I hope you can endure it. Because it's going to hurt. A lot."

Tyrin swallowed hard but stepped forward. He knew he had no choice.

"How much pain are we talking about?" he asked, trying to sound confident, but his voice betrayed him.

"According to my calculations," she replied, preparing the equipment, "it'll be the worst pain of your life. So, I suggest you scream. It'll help."

Before he could say anything else, she inserted the device into his arm. The pain was immediate, searing through every fiber of his body like liquid fire. He screamed, his body convulsing on the bed as Karin watched, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and determination.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Tyrin's scream echoed through the room.

Tyrin couldn't process anything else. The pain was absolute torment, infiltrating even the smallest of his bones, as if every part of his body was being dismantled and reassembled the wrong way. He was sweating, trembling, and the involuntary screams poured out of his throat like a forced confession.

"Scream! You need to scream to stay focused! It stimulates the synapses so they don't shut down! Just a little more!" Karin shouted, raising her voice to drown out the agonizing sounds coming from Tyrin.

She couldn't take any risks. If he passed out, the chances of survival would plummet. She had already lost the other pawn to a bullet to the head, and Tyrin was her last chance to prove the risk had been worth it.

______________

Karin, though maintaining a facade of control, was in a state of near panic. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the gene infusion monitors. She knew the odds were against Tyrin; the average human body couldn't withstand full doses of genes without proper preparation. She whispered to herself:

"Please, just a little more… You can do this. You have to."

The fluorescent liquid coursing through Tyrin's body seemed alive, moving like a hungry predator through his veins. He could feel every molecule burning through his nerves, altering everything he was.

"My sister… Frida…" Tyrin murmured, gasping, as sweat poured from his face in streams.

Karin heard the words but remained focused. There was no room for sentimentality. He had to survive.

"Tyrin, listen to me! Focus on what's ahead. Use this pain as fuel! You need to endure. The pain is proof that it's working!"

In Tyrin's mind, fragmented images began to take shape. He saw Frida playing in the snow, laughing with her eyes shining with joy. But then his mind twisted those images, and he saw her crying, alone, as he was taken away.

"I can't die here. I can't leave her alone. Not now."

The thought gave him a sliver of strength. He screamed again, no longer in pain but in defiance. His body trembled violently, muscles contracting and relaxing in a frenzied rhythm as the gene continued fusing into his DNA.

Karin monitored Tyrin's vital signs. His heart rate was dangerously high, but stable.

"You're almost there, kid. Don't let me down. You're the key to all of this."

Then, a wave of convulsions hit Tyrin, and his body arched on the bed. Blood streamed from his eyes, ears, and nose, mixing with the vomit already staining the floor. Karin grabbed his wrist, checking the pulse that seemed to be fighting to keep going.

"Damn it! He's at his limit!" she muttered, quickly adjusting the final dosage. "Tyrin, listen! It's almost over. Just thirty more seconds. Thirty seconds!"

Tyrin could no longer hear clearly. Everything was a blur of lights, pain, and shadows that seemed to mock him. Still, he clung to the promise he'd made to Frida.

"I will… go back… to her."

And then, the pain reached its climax. His body arched one last time before collapsing onto the bed, motionless.