After the events of the previous day, the first toll of the bell echoed through the orphanage at five in the morning.
The toll cut through the cold corridors like a warning.
Within a few minutes, the twenty newcomers were already lined up in silence in the main hall.
The air smelled of iron and mold.As if the building itself had been constructed to crush any hope.
Supervisors Éreon and Telvaris watched the group with the eyes of predators.
To them, they were not children.
They were pieces.
Some would be shaped.
Others, discarded.
No one had explained what would happen.
The youths barely knew the corridors where they were now trapped.
Some trembled.
Others kept their fists clenched, trying to hide their fear.
Heavy breathing broke the silence of the hall.
The gaze of Éreon and Telvaris remained fixed on them — cold and unmoving.
Telvaris observed in silence.
And then he spoke.
"Welcome."
The silence in the hall seemed to grow even heavier.
Some of the newcomers exchanged quick glances.
Others simply lowered their heads.
Everyone understood.
That was not a greeting.
Telvaris stepped forward a few paces.
The entire hall seemed to shrink.
"There are no names here."
A pause.
"Only numbers."
His eyes swept across the twenty newcomers.
Like a man selecting cattle for slaughter.
"And each one of you will learn the weight of what that means."
He walked slowly in front of the line.
His voice scraped like a blade across stone.
"The strong command."
"The weak obey…"
A short pause.
"…or die."
No one moved.
"Do not expect mercy."
"If you are not useful…"
His eyes narrowed.
"you will be discarded."
Silence fell heavily over the hall.
Only the distant wind slipped through the cracks in the walls.
"A supervisor's word is worth more than your life."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Question it…"
"and you will see what happens."
A pause.
Then he raised a finger.
Pointing to the great iron bell suspended above the hall.
"When you hear the toll of the bell…"
"you will run."
"you will eat."
"you will fight."
"you will sleep."
His voice hardened.
"You will live and bleed according to its call."
His gaze lifted to the bell.
"Here…"
"the bell decides when you breathe."
A crooked, cruel smile appeared on his lips.
"Remember that."
A pause.
"The Mountain waits."
"And the Mountain does not forgive."
His eyes swept across the group again.
"Now listen carefully."
The authority in his voice was crushing.
"You will have twenty days."
"Starting now."
The hall remained motionless.
"After that period…"
"you will enter the Mountain."
Telvaris's eyes turned cold.
"During the ascent…"
"you will be hunted."
A short pause.
"Veterans will be scattered along the trail."
"Their order is simple."
"Encircle."
"Bring down."
"Eliminate any trainee who dares to keep going."
He took another step.
"Up there…"
"no one is on your side."
"You will fight alone."
"And you will fight for your lives."
His gaze passed over the youths.
"Those who reach the summit…"
"will receive a name."
A short pause.
"And will be seen as human."
The silence grew even heavier.
"I warn you now."
"Beyond the orphans who were already here before you…"
His gaze darkened.
"The one who will hunt you…"
"will be the supervisor of Unit Alpha."
None of the newcomers dared to speak.
But all of them knew.
After those twenty days…
Many would not see another dawn.
Shortly after, the second toll of the bell echoed through the orphanage.
The metallic sound was still vibrating in the hall when Telvaris spoke.
"The bell marks six o'clock."
His eyes moved across the newcomers.
"Training begins now."
A brief pause.
"Everyone to the courtyard."
No one hesitated.
The newcomers moved immediately.
Minutes later, they were already lined up in the orphanage courtyard.
The morning cold bit into the skin.
The damp stone ground reflected the gray sky of the morning.
The wind carried the metallic smell of rusted blades fixed to the stone walls.
Veterans waited in formation.
Tense muscles.
Alert eyes.
Telvaris walked to the center of the courtyard.
Behind him, Éreon positioned himself in silence, aligning like an unmoving shadow.
Telvaris studied each face.
Each breath.
His cold gaze moving across the formation.
Then his voice echoed through the courtyard.
"Listen carefully."
No one moved.
"Those who do not finish all the morning exercises…"
He paused briefly.
"will not have the right to food."
Some of the newcomers exchanged quick glances.
The fear was visible now.
Telvaris raised his chin.
"NOW, RUN!"
The newcomers took off immediately.
They began running laps around the courtyard.
The veterans remained motionless for a few seconds.
Watching.
Waiting.
Telvaris merely tilted his head slightly.
It was enough.
The veterans moved.
They began running among the newcomers.
Shoves.
Shoulders colliding.
Constant tests.
One of the weaker orphans stumbled and fell onto the stone ground.
Some ran over him without stopping.
The boy struggled to stand.
And started running again.
Each orphan was pushed beyond their own limit.
Telvaris watched in silence.
Hands behind his back.
One of the newcomers risked glancing at him while running.
Telvaris stared back.
Expressionless.
The boy immediately looked away.
And increased his pace.
After several laps, Telvaris spoke.
"Number One."
One of the veterans responded immediately.
"Sir."
The veteran approached and stopped a few steps behind Telvaris, awaiting further orders.
"How many?"
"Eighty laps, sir," Number One replied.
Telvaris watched the newcomers still running.
Some could barely keep the pace.
Others stumbled while trying to continue.
Then he raised his hand.
The veterans stopped immediately.
They remained aligned.
Firm.
The newcomers were not as fortunate.
Some collapsed to the ground.
Others doubled over, vomiting on the stone courtyard.
The air was heavy with ragged breathing.
Telvaris stared at them for a few seconds.
Then his voice cut through the silence.
"On the ground!"
The veterans and some of the older orphans immediately assumed the push-up position.
Some of the newcomers hesitated, but took the position.
Telvaris walked toward one of them, who was still on his knees.
The boy lifted his face.
Tanned skin.
Thick, unruly brown hair fell across his forehead.
Amber-colored eyes met Telvaris for a brief moment.
He tilted his head slightly.
"And you intend to survive like that?"
The boy was still trying to recover his breath.
His chest rose and fell with difficulty.
"You cannot even complete a simple exercise."
The boy wiped his mouth with his arm.
There was still blood mixed with the sweat.
Telvaris pointed to the ground.
"Now."
The boy hesitated for only a second.
Then he positioned himself.
His arms trembled.
But he did not retreat.
Telvaris watched him for a moment.
Without saying anything.
Then he began walking slowly between the rows.
And then he shouted:
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
The count echoed through the courtyard.
"Four!"
"Five!"
Some arms began to shake.
"Six!"
"Seven!"
A newcomer collapsed onto the ground.
Telvaris stopped in front of him.
"Get up."
The boy tried.
But his arms did not respond.
Telvaris did not even change his expression.
He simply made a short gesture.
A veteran stepped forward.
Grabbed the newcomer by the arm.
And dragged him out of formation.
No one asked where he was taken.
"Continue!"
The count resumed.
"Eight!Nine!Ten!"
The bodies were already trembling with the effort.
Sweat fell onto the stone ground.
The counting continued.
Voice after voice.
Arms lowering and rising.
Time seemed to drag.
Heavy breathing echoed through the courtyard.
Some newcomers collapsed onto the ground.
Others simply lost the strength in their arms.
Whenever that happened, a veteran stepped forward.
Gripped the orphan by the arm.
And dragged him out of formation.
Fewer and fewer remained.
Those who were still holding on could barely keep their bodies raised.
Their arms trembled violently.
Even so, they continued.
Then Telvaris's voice cut across the courtyard.
"One hundred!"
Silence fell over the training.
Telvaris observed the formation.
Of the twenty newcomers…
only eight were still holding the position.
Then the bell rang.
Once.
Shrill.
Each orphan felt the sound vibrate in their chest.
Telvaris raised his voice.
"Up!"
Those who were still on the ground rose with difficulty.
Telvaris scanned the formation.
Cold. Calculating.
"The bell marks eight o'clock."
He paused briefly.
"The next exercise decides who has the right to breakfast."
His eyes narrowed.
"Whoever finishes…"
"eats."
"Whoever fails…"
"watches the others eat."
Telvaris gave them no time to rest.
His voice cut across the courtyard again.
"Formation!"
The veterans moved immediately.
Without hesitation.
They formed a large circle in the center of the courtyard.
The newcomers were pushed into the ring.
Two of them were left in the center.
A veteran stepped in shortly after.
The circle closed.
Telvaris raised his hand.
The courtyard sank into absolute silence.
Then he gave the final order.
"Fight!"
Two of the newcomers froze in the center of the circle.
The fear was obvious.
They began to step back.
But the veterans closing the ring pushed them back toward the center.
There was no escape.
Telvaris watched in silence.
His eyes passed over the two boys.
Then stopped on the veteran waiting in the center of the ring.
The man remained still.
Waiting.
Telvaris made a small gesture with his head.
The veteran moved.
The first newcomer tried to raise his arms.
Too late.
The movement was fast.
A sharp hip turn.
Sambo technique.
The boy was thrown against the ground.
The crack echoed across the courtyard.
"AAAAAH!"
The scream tore through the silence.
The second newcomer tried to run.
The veteran reached him in two steps.
A short movement.
Arm control.
Systema technique.
A sharp crack.
"NO! NO! PLEASE—"
The scream turned into pure desperation when his leg was swept next.
Another crack.
The six remaining watched in silence.
Breathing heavily.
Understanding exactly what that meant.
The veteran did not stop.
Each movement precise.
Cold.
Cruel.
Until Telvaris raised his hand.
"Enough."
The courtyard sank into silence again.
The veteran stepped back immediately.
On the ground, the two newcomers cried.
Cries of pain escaped between sobs.
Telvaris walked toward them.
Stopped in front of the two.
Observed them for a moment.
Without any emotion.
"There is no place for the weak here."
One of the boys tried to crawl backward.
"The next time you hesitate…"
Telvaris's eyes moved across the other newcomers around the circle.
"you die."
He turned his back.
"Remove them."
Two veterans stepped forward.
Grabbed the boys by the arms.
And dragged them out of the circle.
The fights continued.
The newcomers who entered the ring attacked with everything that remained of their strength.
Even so, they were thrown down.
Fast blows.
Hard falls against the stone.
Every attempt ended the same way.
On the ground.
Telvaris watched everything in silence.
Hands behind his back.
His eyes moving from fight to fight.
Evaluating.
Classifying.
Deciding who was still worth keeping alive.
Behind him, Éreon remained motionless.
Eyes alert.
Then Telvaris raised his hand.
"Stop!"
The fights ceased immediately.
The courtyard sank into silence.
Telvaris walked to the front of the formation.
Stopped in front of them.
"Remember…"
His gaze passed over the group.
"Every step you take here…"
"will be demanded again on the Mountain."
At that moment the bell rang again.
Once.
Telvaris did not turn to look.
"The bell marks nine o'clock."
He locked eyes with the newcomers.
"Those who completed the morning training…"
"are authorized to proceed to the refectory."
A brief pause.
"Dismissed."
The formation broke immediately.
The newcomers began walking toward the orphanage's main building.
Some could barely keep their balance.
Others leaned their body weight against the walls as they moved forward.
Telvaris remained standing in the courtyard.
Motionless.
Watching.
Éreon passed by him without saying a word.
Their eyes met for a brief moment.
Then Éreon continued toward the building.
A few moments later, footsteps approached from behind.
A veteran stopped a few steps behind Telvaris.
"Sir…"
Telvaris answered without turning.
"Speak."
"Do you think they will survive?"
Telvaris remained silent for a moment.
"Some… perhaps."
Then Telvaris finally turned.
His eyes met the veteran.
Tanned skin.
Short white hair.
Light brown eyes.
Defined musculature marked the simple orphanage uniform.
Telvaris looked at him for a moment.
"But I am counting on you to keep most of them alive."
A brief pause.
"Number One."
Telvaris held the gaze for one more moment.
Then he turned.
Without saying anything else, he began walking toward the orphanage's main building.
His footsteps echoed slowly across the empty courtyard.
Behind him, the air still carried the smell of sweat and blood.