Awakening in Shadows

Hale screamed so much that he fell unconscious, his young mind unable to process the trauma he had witnessed. Two days passed before he stirred again. When his consciousness returned, he opened his eyes, his body trembling.

"Where am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. A fragmented memory flashed in his mind—a vivid image of his mother lying lifeless. His heart sank, and his voice broke into a piercing cry. "Mother!"

The sister tending to him rushed over. "It's okay," she said softly, trying to comfort him. "One can't defy fate. You need to rest, child."

He didn't respond. Tears streamed down his face as the weight of his memory settled in. The sister hesitated before asking, "What's your name?"

"I don't remember," he replied after a long silence, his voice devoid of emotion. "All I know is... my mother was killed."

The sister flinched, guilt washing over her. I shouldn't have let him see... she thought, blaming herself for his suffering. "Forget what you saw," she said, her tone almost pleading. "Your name is Hale now. A new name for a new life."

But a new fragment of his memory said to him observe,Control, leverage, exploit. But for no reason he cannot say it to sister.

Hale didn't react to the name but stared blankly ahead. The sister sighed and continued, "This is the orphanage. It's managed by a noble. I'll introduce you to the other children."

As days passed, Hale remained quiet, observing everyone around him. His sharp eyes took in the way the children interacted, how they laughed, argued, and played.

Joan, a boastful boy around his age, seemed particularly interested in him. "Hey, Hale! Do you know who I am?" Joan said, puffing out his chest. "I'm Joan, the most powerful one here! Everyone listens to me!"

Rena, a kind-hearted girl a bit older than Hale, stepped in, rolling her eyes. "Joan, stop bragging! And leave Hale alone!"

Joan scoffed. "Oh, come on, Rena! He's just sitting there like a statue. Maybe he's scared of me!"

"I'm not scared," Hale said quietly, finally breaking his silence. His tone wasn't defensive but calm, almost detached.

Joan blinked, caught off guard. "Oh? Then why don't you talk? Scared I'll beat you in a fight?"

Hale looked up at him, his sharp gaze making Joan shift uncomfortably. "What's the point of fighting you? You're all talk."

Rena stifled a laugh as Joan's face turned red. "Why, you little—"

"Joan!" Rena interrupted sharply, stepping in front of him. "Stop it, or I'll tell Sister!"

Joan muttered something under his breath before storming off.

"Don't mind him," Rena said, turning to Hale. "He's just like that. Always trying to show off. If he bothers you again, just tell me, okay?"

Hale nodded slightly but didn't say anything else. He felt a strange sense of detachment from their interactions, as if he were watching pieces on a game board instead of real people.

Later that evening, the sister sat beside him on a wooden bench. "Hale, are you adjusting well?" she asked gently.

He didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the ground.

The sister sighed. "I know it's hard to forget what you saw. But this is a new beginning. Please, try to move forward."

Hale finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "You told me to forget, but how can I? The memory of my mother... I can't let it go."

The sister hesitated, then smiled gently. "It's normal, Hale. Memories can stay with us for a long time. But don't overthink it. Give yourself time to heal, okay?"

Hale nodded slowly, though her words didn't ease the storm brewing in his mind.

The next day, Joan approached him again, dragging Rena along. "Hey, Hale! Let's play a game! I bet I can beat you in anything!"

"Joan, stop pushing him!" Rena said, exasperated. "He doesn't want to play with you!"

Hale looked at Joan, his expression unreadable. "Why do you want to compete so badly?"

Joan grinned. "Because I want to show you how strong I am!"

"Strength isn't about showing off," Hale said calmly. "It's about knowing when to act and when not to."

Joan tilted his head, confused. "What does that even mean?"

Rena crossed her arms, smirking. "It means you should stop trying to prove yourself and just be normal for once."

Joan glared at her. "Hey, I am normal! Right, Hale?"

Hale shrugged. "Maybe. But being loud doesn't make you strong."

Joan opened his mouth to argue but stopped, unsure how to respond.

As the days turned into weeks, Hale continued observing the children and the orphanage itself. He noticed how the noble rarely visited and how the supplies were barely enough to feed everyone. He saw how the older kids took food from the younger ones and how the sister struggled to maintain order.

One evening, he approached Rena. "Why does the noble not help more?" he asked bluntly.

Rena looked surprised. "The noble? He doesn't care about us. He only funds this place because he has to."

Hale's gaze hardened. "Then why hasn't anyone done anything about it?"

Rena blinked in confusion. "What could we possibly do? We're just kids."

But Hale didn't respond. The words from his fragmented memory echoed in his mind once more: "Observe the situation. Take the minimum action. Know yourself, then your enemy, and control everything."

For the first time, a faint smirk crossed his lips. If no one else will take control, I will.

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