Silent Cry, Heard | Whispers of Resilience

Seiya clenched his eyes shut before reopening them under the cold water, the basin brimming and spilling onto the floor. He jerked his head back, gasping for air, water streaming from his face as he choked and coughed.

He vaguely recalled fainting while using the faucet.

"I… I'm sorry, Ibyu" Seiya wheezed, his voice raspy and broken. "For almost… killing you."

{It's okay} a small voice replied.

Seiya's eyes widened in shock, staring into the mirror before him. "Eh?!"

{I said it's okay} the voice repeated.

"Huh? Am I still in my consciousness or something because I can hear you" Seiya scanned around him, bewildered.

{You're not. You've just become strong enough to hear me outside your consciousness now} His heart responded.

A soft smile graced Seiya's lips, his eyes squinting gently in feigned relief. "Oh, I'm glad."

Yet, Ibyu knew the truth. Seiya's smile was forced, a façade that masked the weight of his anguish—a burden Ibyu shared intimately.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the moment. The door creaked open, revealing a familiar worker standing outside Seiya's restroom.

"You've been summoned. It's time" the worker stated briefly.

Seiya dried his hands with a towel, then retrieved his glasses from the bedside table, slipping them onto his lifeless eyes—eyes that seemed beyond the aid of any lens. With a heavy heart, he followed the worker to the lab, the place of his daily torment.

Over time, his father had escalated the horrors inflicted upon him, handing him over to senior staffs for their twisted experiments. He had become a plaything—discarded and dehumanized.

Even among the children, Seiya found no solace. He was met with scorn, mockery, and relentless bullying. Peace was a stranger to him, and he began to believe that the universe itself was against him.

In the sterile confines of the lab, Seiya was led to the familiar metal table, where he was instructed to lie down. Straps secured him tightly as male and female workers gathered around, preparing to unleash their torment. But something in Seiya shifted. His eyes that appeared dead and distressed, glistened with raw emotion as he stared up at them, his chest heaving in slow, painful pulsations.

Tears began to flow freely and unbidden as he remained gazing at the workers who hovered above him—they were frozen in place, arrested by the unspoken plea in Seiya's eyes—unable to proceed as they all understood the look in his eyes.

Seiya wept bitterly in his heart. All the emotions he'd kept bottled up over the months seemed to be erupting as he gazed with overwhelming sadness at the workers who unleash hell on him every day.

He was tired. Fed up. Broken. Seiya craved dearly for freedom.

He couldn't help but ponder what mistakes he'd committed in his past life that warranted such torment.

How big was that crime he had committed to be punished in such a way?

His tears flowed uncontrollably, it was quiet but bitter.

Was the crime so grave that he couldn't be forgiven?

Was it one big enough that forgiveness isn't even an option?

Seiya's heart ached like never before, not physically—it was so painful.

His quiet sobs made all the workers gaze in awe, some in pity. No words were spoken, none needed to be spoken because his eyes, his tears said it all and they knew, THEY ALL KNEW.

No words were spoken but they all heard him clearly.

Seiya's mouth opened wide as he sobbed silently, the guilt of every dead child till now wrapping over him and suffocating him.

Since forgiveness was out of the question for that grave sin he committed in his past, he no longer sought it—he just needed a break.

Even criminals in jails get breaks, right? He wanted one, just one because he just couldn't anymore.

Seiya's body trembled as he let all his emotions out with his silent cry. 

He was pleading in his heart, for someone, anyone—for something, anything to hear and relieve him of this torment.

His mouth remained agape with his eyes squeezed shut as he cried bitterly with no sound.

He was weeping silently but it sounded through the whole lab. Like a gentle breeze of sorrow, it blew everywhere.

That day, that hour, every soul in the lab felt an air they've never felt before. They felt his weeping soul.

_ _ _

Hours passed before Seiya's sobs subsided. His tear-streaked face remained etched with sadness, but he no longer cried. The lab door burst open, and his father entered, a sneer on his lips.

"What's this? Crying during your session? Pathetic" his father scoffed, his gaze cold. "You all wasted your time, so now it's my turn!" He barked at the workers, dismissing them and approaching Seiya with malicious intent.

To Seiya, he smirked. "You'll be pleased with the new healer the government sent us—a top tier, capable of restoring even dismembered limbs. No more limitations on our fun."

Seiya lay still, silent and resigned as his father went on.

"Bring him in" Seiya's father ordered and a tall tan man walked in. Well fit and chiseled.

"I just want to have a little fun with you today. It's not a task" Mr Sanio divulged and Seiya felt some relief in his heart.

No task meant no kids had to die.

"It's something simple. Just a slow, deliberate slice of your toes and fingers with blunt tools hahaha" He announced.

"Since we have a competent healer now, let's not hold back! I'll make sure to find the most blunt scalpel there is to make sure your fingers and toes don't come off in one clean cut" He remarked.

Much to his words, Seiya did have his toes and fingers slowly sliced with a blunt scalpel. Got the injury exposed to abrasive breeze and left to bleed before being healed.

The pain was excruciating, yet Seiya endured, his body trembling with each cut, each fresh wave of agony. No matter how much he's subjected to agonizing pains, he just couldn't get used to it.

Once the session ended, Seiya was sent to wash the blood from his body and given clean decent clothes. The pristine attire felt like a mockery, a veneer of normalcy over a life of suffering.

As he dressed for dinner, his thoughts wandered. 

Why was he always given proper clothes when dining with the other children? To maintain the illusion that he was treated better? 

Seiya sighed, deciding it's of no importance.

Steeling himself, Seiya entered the dining hall.

The moment he slid open the door, a plate of food slammed into his face, its contents dripping onto the floor.

Laughter erupted around him.

"Told you he'd show up!"

"Shameless, as always!"

Seiya stood frozen, his heart too fragile to bear the cruelty. Tears traced down his cheeks as their derision echoed around him. 

He reached to wipe the remnants of food from his face, only for a hand to seize his collar, shoving him backward until he landed hard on the ground.

The children gathered and began to kick and hit him, their mockery unrelenting.

"With the amount of deaths you're responsible for, you are shameless enough to always show up here?!" Eiro, the blonde boy, notorious for leading Seiya's mistreatment, sneered down at him.

"And that hair of yours, it's creepy! We need to cut it!" He gestured to a friend to fetch scissors.

At the threat, Seiya's body quivered, fear coursing through him. 

His long hair served as a shield, obscuring most of his expressions and his features from the world. To cut it would be stripping away his armor, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

The boy returned, scissors in hand and Seiya's heart pounding in terror.

"Snip, snip, snip! It's got to go!" The boy taunted, clanging the scissors ominously before Seiya's terrified eyes.

As the scissors neared his hair, a hand shot out, stopping them in their tracks. The sharp edge grazed Seiya's arm, drawing blood as his assailant's grip was forcibly removed.

Seiya looked up to see the light blue-haired boy, the same one who had once intervened for him before.

"What's the meaning of this?!" The bully snarled, his rage directed at the blue-haired boy.

"That's enough. Stop it." The blue-haired boy's voice was calm but firm.

There was a tense pause before the bully clicked his tongue, leading his gang away in reluctant defeat. 

The blue-haired boy followed soon after, leaving Seiya alone under the scrutinizing gaze of the remaining children.

Seiya, bruised and bleeding, gathered himself with effort. He retrieved his glasses, placing them back on, and without a word, made his way out.

The children watched in stunned silence, expecting him to endure the abuse and stay as he always had. But this time, he left.

_ _ _

Seiya approached one of the lab workers, requesting to be led to his father. They complied, guiding him to a room unfamiliar to him. 

Inside, his father sat in a rotating chair, surrounded by multiple screens displaying various sections of the lab.

"Skipping a meal because of a little bullying, like the child you are. Tsk!" his father scorned, swiveling the chair to face him. 

"Coming here on your own—what could you possibly want to tell me?" He rested his chin on his intertwined fingers, waiting.

"It better not be about the welfare of the chil—" His words were cut short as Seiya fell to his knees, his forehead touching the floor in a posture of supplication.

Mr. Sanio was momentarily taken aback, watching his son with interest.

"I want to become strong. Please make me strong" 

Seiya longed for strength—not for himself, but to protect the children, his mother. In the one year he's endured here, he had suffered every torment, just so those kids and his mother remain breathing—it was hard and unbearable but he managed.

However, he had come to know that the agony and torture he was subjected to was nothing compared to the real life combat and harrowing cruelty he was faced with in the dungeon.

He knew a time like that again would come. He knew those kids would never stop being used as sacrifices on him, so he needed to get stronger.

Rather than succumb to guilt over those he couldn't save, Seiya resolved to protect those still living, though the weight of the lost would always haunt him.

Kneeling, with his forehead and palms pressed to the ground, Seiya saw not his father but a stranger.

A delighted smile crept brazenly upon Mr.

Sanio's face as he gazed at his son's bowed form. "Good. Then, Seiya, are you prepared to face whatever hardships dread along?"

"I am" Seiya's voice was soft but

resolute.

"That also means you consent to any and all methods we deem necessary to achieve this goal" His father added.

Seiya gritted his teeth, his head still bowed. They had never asked for his consent before. "Yes," he replied firmly.

"Excellent! You may rise now!"

Seiya lifted his head, though he remained on his knees.

"Ah? You don't look particularly happy about sealing this deal. You should be smiling; after all, I've granted one of your requests, haven't I?" Mr. Sanio's brow furrowed.

Seiya hesitated, but then forced a grin, his bruised face and bleeding lips forming a wide smile. "Right?" he asked rhetorically, tilting his head and squinting his eyes.

"Right! It's a privilege that I'm giving my time to a worthless lab rat like you" Mr. Sanio sneered.

"Absolutely," Seiya responded, his smile unwavering.

"Wonderful! Now, leave and prepare for our NEW BEGINNING."