(From Ray's perspective)
Skyro was speaking, his voice sounding as though it were emerging from beneath the rubble of a burned-down house. His tone wasn't merely sad; it carried within it the remnants of that ancient malice, unextinguished by the years. The silence in the courtyard grew heavier, until I imagined the trees themselves had stopped whispering, leaning in to hear how that boy transformed from a "hunting hound" in the alleys into a "number" in the factory of demons.
Skyro lowered his head, closed his eyes, and the words slipped out with a terrifying slowness...
(Skyro's Voice - The Memory)
"The bag of food dropped from my hand, the pieces of meat I had bought with such joy scattering amidst the pools of blood that stained the hideout's floor. My eyes roamed the place with a terror I had never known; Mina crucified, Victor torn apart, Carl with swords driven into his flesh... My family—the only one I had in this vast universe—had been turned, in my absence, into a heap of lifeless remains.
Amidst this ruin, that man in the white suit stood with his lethal coldness. He wiped a spot of blood from his sleeve with his embroidered handkerchief, then turned to me with a soft smile—a smile utterly unfitting for a massacre.
'Oh... a child? What brings you here, little one?'
His voice was as delicate as silk, but it struck my ears like a thunderbolt. I didn't answer. I had no words. I felt a heat erupt in my chest, a hatred that blinded me to the truth. I drew my knife, my companion in every assassination, and with a desperate scream that tore my throat, I lunged at him. I was fast, I was smart, I was the 'hunting hound' who never missed his prey... or so I thought.
With the slightest possible movement, and a coldness that could freeze hell, the nobleman evaded me. He didn't even blink. I found myself swinging into the void, and before I could turn, I felt a hand as strong as steel clamp around my neck. He lifted me off the ground like a feather, his blue eyes looking at me with an eerie curiosity.
'You have fierce combat instincts, boy...'
I didn't give up. Despite my cut-off breath, I scratched his hand with my nails with all my might, pressing on a nerve in his wrist until he loosened his grip for a fraction of a second. I dropped to the ground, rolled away, then sprang back, attacking him with a flurry of punches and kicks. I struck with all my rage. I struck for Mina, for Carl, for the years of misery he had crushed in a single second.
But he evaded everything. He moved as if dancing amidst death. Every kick missed its mark, every punch met only air. The nobleman stopped, wiped a tiny scratch on his hand, and let out a light laugh as he advanced toward me.
'What is your name?' he asked me again, smiling.
'You killed my family... and you want me to tell you my name?! I'll kill you! I'll cut your throat!' I screamed madly, lunging at him once more, but the knife slipped from my trembling hand. I started kicking him, wanting to shatter that beautiful, cold face. I struck and struck, while he simply swayed his body left and right with absolute calm.
'I will put you in a better place,' he said, fixing his gaze on my eyes. 'I need someone strong like you... this scum that lived here is of no use to you anymore. You are more than just a street thief.'
Before I could reply, from an unseen angle, the shadow guard lunged—the man cloaked in black. In less than a second, I found myself pinned to the floor, his knee pressing into my chest, his hand wrapping around my throat, choking off my breath completely. I felt my soul leaving my body, my vision narrowing.
'It's fine,' the nobleman said, stepping closer. He gestured for the guard to ease the pressure slightly. 'You are fierce... and I like this breed of monsters.'
The nobleman leaned down, grabbed my jaw with a gloved hand, and forced my head up, compelling me to look at him. He dug his fingers into my skin and whispered in a spine-chilling voice: 'You have fierce eyes... You were born from the womb of suffering, and that is what makes you valuable. Yield... you will never be able to touch me.
But tell me... what is your name?'
I looked at him bitterly. I knew I had lost. The power before me wasn't human; it was an unyielding wall. With words heavily laden with blood and anger, in a broken, defeated voice, I said: 'My name is... Skyro.'
The nobleman's smile widened, and he released my jaw roughly: 'Welcome, Skyro... I am Hairo.'
He said it with that smile still lingering on his lips—a smile that didn't imply welcome as much as it implied ownership, as though I were a precious piece of furniture that had just been added to his collection.
'Now... come with us,' he added in a tone that brokered no refusal. 'Your journey in the filth has ended. Now begins the journey of manufacturing a true monster.'
I tried to stand. I gathered whatever dignity and strength remained in my trembling legs. But before my body could rise from the floor, I felt a sudden coldness pierce the air behind my head. I heard no sound, felt no movement—only a fleeting metallic flash in the corner of my eye.
CRACK!
An explosion of white pain detonated inside my skull. I felt a solid, sharp, lethal blow to the back of my head; the black-clad guard had drawn his sword and, in the blink of an eye, struck me with its heavy iron pommel. It wasn't just a blow; it felt as if a mountain of steel had crashed down onto my mind.
Hairo's features dissolved before my eyes. The world shuddered, turning from snow-white into pitch black. I fell on my face, not even feeling my body hit the ground. All that remained in my consciousness was a sharp, deafening ringing in my ears, and the distant sound of Hairo's laughter fading into the void.
I woke up... or so I imagined.
The first thing I felt was the 'vibration.' A continuous trembling seeping into my bones, accompanied by the roar of a massive engine somewhere. I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids were heavy, as if tied to lead weights.
I opened my eyes incredibly slowly. My vision was blurred, cloudy, like looking through shattered glass. I found myself lying on a cold metallic floor inside a massive 'vehicle.' Its only window was small and barred with iron. I was shackled, my hands and feet in irons that gnawed at my skin with every bump in the road.
I looked through the window. There were no forests, no snow, no life. The world outside had turned to ash. Thick black clouds blotted out the sky...
And suddenly... the 'Monster' appeared before my eyes.
It wasn't a building; it was an entity of iron and steel stretching across spaces beyond sight. The Factory. The mere sight of it instilled an immediate desire for death in the soul. Towering rusted walls, massive pipes spewing blue flames, and the sounds of machines grinding rock filling the horizon. It looked like a city built to torture time itself.
The vehicle halted violently, making my head slam against the metal wall, reawakening the pain and my wounds. The back door opened, and a blinding white searchlight pierced through, blinding me.
'Unload the new cargo,' bellowed a gruff voice, devoid of a single ounce of mercy.
I was grabbed roughly by the collar and dragged across the stony ground. I couldn't resist; my body was entirely shattered. My head was lifted for a second, and I saw the giant gates of the factory opening... they looked like the gaping maw of a mythical beast waiting to swallow me.
We went inside. An endless ceiling of cold lights, and the stench of burnt oil, rust, and blood. This was the place 'Hairo' had promised me. It wasn't a better place... It was the slaughterhouse where I would redefine the meaning of pain."