The place that was once nothing but ruin and debris has now become something resembling a fortress teeming with life but it is a life that is oppressed and humiliated. Restored stone walls rise upon the remnants of old houses, and the rays of a black sun glimmer faintly on the few metallic surfaces that were not completely destroyed. A massive gate stands tall at the entrance, with two guards leaning against it, chatting carelessly as if it were merely a routine task devoid of any real weight. Meanwhile, watchful eyes pass before them people who have lost something of their humanity. Some still retain a human form, while others have had their bodies twisted into something closer to beasts distorted, unnatural, as if the siege and life under that man's rule had warped them both inside and out.
They work endlessly, laboring for a small portion of food that might satisfy their hunger, but never his desires the desires of their leader, who sits upon his throne, smiling with a cold grin that sets the hearts of those around him ablaze with fear and humiliation. The days when they used to hide, when they fled from the eyes of others, are gone without return. Now they are nothing more than tools obedient workers skilled in construction and rebuilding, crafting crude weapons to protect themselves from those closest to them… or perhaps from themselves before anyone else.
In the morning, they carry their hammers and tools, repairing cracked walls with whatever stones remain unused, and transporting rubble as though it were treasure. At night, they crawl toward their food rations again and again, until this repetition has become part of their existence an inescapable ritual. And those who leave do not return as they once were; fewer return each time, burdened with grotesque creatures abominations that defy nature. Sometimes they bring back things resembling sheep, with long necks and jaws filled with saw-like teeth. At other times, a pack of six-eyed wolves follows them, staring at anyone who dares approach.
And all of this unfolds under his gaze his eyes that have seen everything, that forget nothing, that sense every movement and every sound. As for Selina, she had tried relentlessly to preserve what little will remained in their hearts, attempting to plant seeds of resistance among them. But slowly, over time, all strength to resist faded like an infectious disease spreading among everyone. She knew that absolute control was beyond anyone's reach, but she no longer had the strength to stand against him. It had become a reality not easily changed.
"For now… let things remain as they are…" she whispered to herself as she walked through the streets through alleys she no longer recognized as they once were. The looks of envy, pity, and even fear from those she once called her siblings pierced her heart like daggers. Every glance reminded her of responsibility, of guilt, of everything she had lost in trying to protect them. Each look wounded her, reminding her that she had once tried to control Ilia… and now he was the one in control, shaping everything.
"Not yet… not yet…" she murmured softly, gazing into the shadows scattered across the city. "He will want more and more… he will never be satisfied. And he will never be able to control everyone, no matter how hard he tries. There are those stronger… those he has not yet found." She was certain of it. She knew the world was larger than any tyrant, and that their misfortune lay in falling into his hands. Their only protector had been an old man who had reached the peak of his power but even he could do no more than what he had already done.
At last, after a long walk through exhausted and darkened alleys, she reached what used to be his home a house larger than all the others, vast and imposing, exactly as one would expect from someone who delights in feeding his pride and displaying his power.
She entered and found him sitting in his usual place, trying to draw something on a sheet of paper something she could not understand, though it did not matter. She did not even attempt to speak. After all her previous attempts to argue with him, she had come to feel nothing but helplessness. There was no longer any moment of weakness she could exploit.
"Oh, Selina, my obedient servant… what brings you here?" His voice dripped with mockery and arrogance, as though he knew everything in her mind and wanted her to know that he did.
Selina felt no desire to respond. She had learned that any objection would be futile, and that even his weakest moment would not be enough to face him.
"Nothing important. I just wanted to inform you that there are some newborns, but…" she said, suppressing her pain, her chest heavy with unspoken feelings.
"Go on. But what?" His tone rose slightly, a mix of curiosity and contempt.
"Some died during birth. And the others… we killed them because one tore open its mother's abdomen upon being born. The father went mad and took his own life. I thought you should know…" she said in a flat voice, trying to conceal any trace of pity or sorrow.
"What the hell does that have to do with me?" he snapped, his eyes gleaming with anger and indifference. "As long as it doesn't interfere with what I want, everything is fine so long as you've dealt with it…"
"Tsk…" Selina whispered, her words laden with hatred, grief, and humiliation. But she no longer needed to argue. Everything had become clear: he was the ruler, the judge and they were nothing but tools to be used and discarded to satisfy his pride.
She turned to leave quickly, her steps tense, her heart pounding with anger and disgust after hearing his words. She had known from the beginning that he would never care about them only about feeding his ego and building his foolish empire, or whatever name suited it. But she suddenly stopped when she heard him about to say something, his voice cold yet filled with unsettling curiosity.
"Selina… that remaining meat… it spoiled, didn't it?"
She froze, then answered in a steady voice, controlling herself: "And why do you care? We're used to it already we were born eating it."
Ilia smiled strangely, as though the question had merely been a prelude to something else. "Well… I might know a trick or two to preserve it. But we can leave that for later. Tell me do you know how to farm?"
Selina let out a short laugh, trying to suppress her sarcasm. It clearly irritated him, though he restrained his rising anger to hear her answer.
"Do you expect this barren land to grow even a single seed? And how the hell would you even know what farming is when you were only recently created in some laboratory?"
She stepped forward insistently. "Tell me do you really think that land, the one they left in the temple as a symbol of their power, filled with thousands of corpses, will grow anything? Do you think we'll go to the farthest reaches of the land just to farm?"
The conversation reminded her of the dark ages the world had gone through, when everything became distorted nothing remained natural after that, everything was flawed. You might sleep today and wake up to find your brother has turned into something else. You might sleep today and find that plants eat animals. Everything had become strange, terrifying even survival had become nothing more than feeding on scattered remains, an attempt to adapt to the cruelty, to grow accustomed to destruction.
"Selina, Selina, Selina… don't rush so much." His voice became calmer, yet filled with hidden menace. "I know a thing or two… just tell me, how long have those corpses been there?"
Selina shrugged indifferently. "How would I know? They've been there for a long time."
"Well… I suppose that's enough for me." he said, his eyes coldly observing the surroundings.
At that moment, a large man stepped out, his body wrapped in animal bones as decoration, using them to mask his cowardice and to boast of his allegiance to someone stronger. In his hand, he carried some strange plants and fruits that didn't look natural at all. He left some for testing, while others were poisonous or filled with fungi that turned humans into mindless zombies.
"Well done, Animo. Now you may take as much meat as you want until you're full."
The large man moved with steps heavier than his size toward the nearby storage, driven by a mix of childish joy and savagery. He took a large amount of meat, some of it already rotten, and began eating it without care whether it was cooked or not.
As for Ilia, he began to dream of his own farm not only for food, but to ensure he would not lose more soldiers who could serve him in more important tasks, in building his true power.
"Now, Selina… you can get out of my sight." he said sharply, savoring his control and authority.
But deep inside, he was thinking of something else:
'As for me, I must find a way to move to the next stage. My current power will never be enough if I clash with others.'
At last, the empire had begun to take shape from nothing at all. For now, it was merely a village of dozens, but the future held for it a great power a resilient power if he managed to rebuild it and tighten his control over it once more.