The house was vast.
The dark stone of the walls held the chill even in the height of summer. High ceilings lost themselves in the gloom, as if even the light refused to climb that high.
It used to be different here.
In this house, silence wasn't a sign of comfort; it was a rule. No one was forbidden from breaking it. People simply didn't dare.
He opened his eyes.
A perfect white ceiling.
He looked at it every morning. He knew it better than his own face. Sometimes it felt as if, by lying there long enough, the day wouldn't begin. That time would simply… pass him by.
The silence outside the window was absolute. No trees grew in the inner courtyard, and thus, there was never any wind. The stone cobblestones lay flat—too flat for anything to ever grow between them.
A knock at the door. Three strikes.
"Master Lane," Darwin's voice came through.
"May I enter?"
"Yes."
Darwin entered first. A tall man with silver hair, dressed in an impeccable suit. Two maidservants followed behind him. They bowed in unison, eyes never leaving the floor.
"Good morning, Master Lane," Ella said.
"Good morning."
The words sounded habitual and hollow.
Darwin helped him dress—slowly, without haste. Buttons fastened one by one. The collar was straightened. The vest sat perfectly.
"You have a meeting with your father today," Darwin murmured, adjusting the lapel. — The Councilor requested that you not be late for breakfast.
He stepped toward the mirror.
The reflection was flawless. A thin face, sharp cheekbones, refined features. The perfect son. But the eyes... dark green.
He held the gaze longer than usual, as if waiting for the reflection to confirm his very existence. Darwin watched him through the glass. Every time, there was something like pity in the old man's eyes.
But Darwin always remained silent.
The scent of lavender in the room became unbearably sharp. It clogged his lungs, turning into a sickly-sweet aroma. Ella stepped closer with a basin of water.
"Master Kira…" she faltered.
"Did you sleep well?"
The room seemed to grow colder. Darwin looked up sharply. But Lane was already staring at her.
Why did she ask? The question was wrong. People didn't ask things like that here.
"Yes," he replied after a pause.
"Thank you."
She smiled awkwardly, sincerely.
"That's good… It's just, you've looked so tired lately. If you need anything… I could bring…"
"Ella," Darwin's voice rose.
"That is enough."
She flinched, bowed, and hurried out of the room. Darwin sighed, looking at Kira.
"She's new. Only two weeks here. She hasn't grown used to it yet."
"Used to what?"
Darwin paused.
"To the fact that you... prefer the silence."
Kira lowered his gaze.
I don't prefer it.
I just don't know what to say.
Darwin lingered, watching him intently. Too intently.
"Master Lane...he hesitated. If you need anything... if you wish to talk... I am always ready to listen."
"About what?"
"About the fact that I don't remember the last time I felt anything?"
Lane walked right up to the mirror. He wanted to strike the flawless glass, to shatter that fake face into a thousand shards. Instead, he simply adjusted his cuff.
"Thank you, Darwin. Everything is fine."
Darwin nodded, but his eyes held only sorrow.
"As you wish, Master."
He left the room. Lane was alone.
He wanted to scream. He wanted that white ceiling to collapse and crush him. And suddenly, reality began to bleed.
The first crack appeared on the flawless white ceiling. The mirror exploded into sprays of red-hot sand. The walls of the house crumbled into grey dust. The scent of expensive soap was scorched away by the stench of blood, ammonia, and urine.
Kira opened his eyes.
He smiled faintly through broken lips. The pain was real. Which meant he was finally awake