I awoke to a world of pain.
My body was a mess of aches and soreness, each throb sending waves of weakness and fatigue through me.
Groaning, I forced myself upright, opening my eyes.
It took me a moment to realize I wasn't lying sprawled on the cold floor anymore. I was on a bed, in what appeared to be a hospital ward.
Catching my movement, a male healer approached me. He was an old man, his stubborn brown hair still fighting a losing battle against the gray, his face lined with deep wrinkles.
"So, you're awake," he remarked, his voice devoid of empathy. But it was also devoid of animosity, carrying an unsettling lack of any emotion—hostile or otherwise.
I tried to speak, but instead of words, the only sound that emerged was a faint,
"Aaagh."
The healer's lips curled in a faint smile that never reached his eyes, making the entire expression even more disconcerting.
"We've healed you, but we used your strength to do it. Your full recovery will take a week or so."
I sighed heavily. 'Three years. Just put up with it for three years.' "So what happens now?"
"Now that you're awake, you'll report to your unit. I'll have an assistant show you the way."
I bit back another groan.
Of course, it had been too much to expect to be able to rest in this damn place.
Gritting my teeth, I fought through the fatigue and swung my legs off the bed, forcing myself to stand.
My left leg had been utterly destroyed during the beating, and while the damage had been mostly healed, there was still a throbbing pain that reduced me to a pathetic limp.
A young boy appeared beside the healer, dark-haired and bright-eyed, his kind expression almost startling in contrast to my surroundings. He offered me his arm to lean on.
I took it gratefully, managing a weak smile in thanks. 'Funny to think of him as a boy. We're probably similar ages.'
"My name's Marsh," the boy greeted, his tone light and airy.
"A-Arthur."
"Nice to meet you, Arthur. You went through a lot, you know. Your body was so tired after the healing that you didn't even wake up when they branded you."
"Branded?"
"Your forehead. They give it to…"
"Criminals," I said, smiling at Marsh's hesitation.
"…Yeah."
Marsh guided me through the camp to my new barracks.
The journey was slow, my injuries making every step an ordeal.
Eventually, we arrived at an ugly, squat gray building. With a friendly wave, Marsh disappeared, leaving me alone with my pain and nerves.
Steeling myself for the worst, I limped inside.
At the front of the reception room stood a woman with long red hair, a slim but powerful physique, and sharp, assessing eyes.
"Arthur?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, watching her warily, unsure if she was going to attack me like the others had.
"Good. Follow me."
She led me into a large room containing four bunks, three of which were already occupied.
The men turned to stare at me as I entered, their expressions ranging from cold indifference to open hostility.
Among them, one glare stood out. Livid green.
'Noah. Fuck me and my luck.'
The woman nodded toward the men. "Unit 7, this is Arthur. He's the second criminal joining the unit. Arthur, you'll bunk with Noah over there."
I sighed resignedly, limping over to the far end of the room. Noah was still talking to the other members.
Obviously, they had welcomed him despite being a criminal. And just as obviously, they weren't willing to do the same for me.
Ignoring Noah's burning gaze, I threw myself down onto the bottom bunk with a pained groan.
"Training begins tomorrow at 0600," Officer Mara continued. "But in light of the two new recruits, you've all been granted a day off."
The squad erupted into cheers.
I sighed in relief, closing my eyes, allowing the exhaustion to drag me into sleep almost immediately.
---
[Noah's POV]
I sat on my bunk, glaring at the pale-haired noble sleeping below me.
From the moment the bastard had limped in, I had felt a simmering rage rise in my chest.
Nobles. All of them were scum, devoid of any damn humanity.
Arthur still bore the signs of the beating he had taken.
The memory of it put a smile on my face. The sight of a noble punished. It was something I was sure I'd never see again.
If they had decided to put one of their own in here, then whatever Arthur had done to end up here must've been bad.
Every bruise on his body was justice. Justice for everyone like me, who had to suffer because of them.
As the day passed, my anger simmered, compounding with each minute Arthur remained asleep.
The bastard hadn't stirred once since Officer Mara had dismissed us. I was itching for an excuse to fight, but Arthur simply stayed asleep. A small smile on his lips as he slept.
I hated that smile. It drove me insane, taunting me.
By late night, my patience snapped.
If Arthur wasn't going to give me an excuse, well, I was just going to make one.
---
[Arthur's POV]
My dream was peaceful.
I sat in my family's living room—my old living room when I had been Reshi—watching my family enjoy themselves.
My father read the newspaper, laying on his favourite chair.
My mother was in the kitchen, humming. But now, a new person joined her.
She had auburn hair and bright green eyes.
Mary.
She smiled, her face free of the years of neglect she had suffered, looking younger, and happier that I had ever seen her in life.
Joseph, my twin, and Persi, my younger sister, played nearby.
My lips twitched as I saw an exhausted Joseph being forced to entertain his little sister's imaginative games.
I had never had much patience for those games back then.
I…regretted that now.
Still, I didn't let it ruin my mood.
This was the only place I could feel content.
Content to observe. Content to exist.
And while I knew they weren't real, I was grateful for them.
In a strange sort of way, they were the reality I preferred to live, with the waking world being nothing but a short nightmare.
Then the first punch landed, and the dream shattered.
My eyes snapped open just as another fist connected with my side, sending an explosion of pain through my body.
I curled up instinctively as more blows rained down, as if it was procedure now.
Blood dripped into my eyes from a reopened cut, blurring my vision. Through the haze, however, I made out Noah's silhouette. His fists were relentless, each strike aimed at my barely healed injuries.
I knew this was going to happen. Sooner or later.
It was a shame it had to happen while I was sleeping.
'Wait…since when had I become so accepting?'
The realisation shocked me. Without realising, I had allowed myself to get beaten again and again like some sort of professional victim.
'How many times?' I thought bitterly. 'How many fucking times am I going to be beaten for existing?'
It was so tiring. Even now, as I was being beaten, I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. To go back there.
Back to them. But I couldn't…because of him.
Noah's fists finally broke through my guard, slamming into my face, causing it to bounce off the floor.
And with it, something inside me just snapped.
Rage.
Pure, unfiltered, rage.
Roaring, I moved, throwing a kick that caught Noah off guard.
Then, as if it had been waiting for me to finally do something, my training as Reshi kicked in.
I moved, tripping him as I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Noah lunged again, swinging hate-filled blows.
I ducked under them, countering with a solid punch to the stomach. He doubled over, coughing.
I didn't give him a chance.
Pivoting to the side, I continued raining down blow after blow, striking him, my face a blend of tears and screams.
The anger felt like fire in my veins.
But there was something else also…something that fanned the flames.
Fear.
Fear of being hated. That I always would be a target.
Even when I was asleep.
"WHY. THE. FUCK. COULDN'T. YOU. LEAVE. ME. ALONE?!" I bellowed, punctuating each word with a punch.
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!"
Noah stopped resisting, slumping to the floor, his face a mass of blood and missing teeth.
But I wasn't done.
All the suppressed anger, the pain… the fear—they all surged forward. I kicked him and stomped until my legs burned from the exertion.
I stepped back, gasping for breath.
Turning, I saw the rest of the squad had gathered, watching me silently. Their expressions were a mix of shame and disappointment. I felt another surge of anger.
They had known. I could see it in their faces. They had seen Noah attack me and had done nothing.
My lips curled in disdain. 'Fucking bastards.'
Turning back to Noah, I felt a sense of sick, profound happiness as I saw him wheezing on the floor.
It was ironic.
I thought that I could become friends with him. Help him overcome his hatred for nobility.
"But you know what?" I growled, my voice so low only I could hear. "Fuck that."
......…
[Officer MARA 3RD PERSON]
Moments later, Officer Mara burst in, quickly assessing the scene in front of her.
She had been able to gather what had happened; nevertheless, there were one or two things that still surprised her.
She had expected conflict. No one in the army, especially the lower level soldiers, liked the nobility.
And with Noah, there had been a note in his file, showing that his behaviour had a marked hatred for anyone carrying noble blood.
So, she had expected Noah to fly into a rage.
What she hadn't expected was for Arthur to be standing on top of the boy, kicking wildly.
The noble boy no longer looked so weak.
Nor did he look much like a noble.
His pristine white hair was stained with blood and sticking out wildly. His red eyes were full of emotion, but it wasn't anger.
'He's scared,' she realized with a shiver.
Arthur's eyes were full of fear as he kicked at Noah as if his life depended on it, ignoring the bruises and countless cuts pouring down his face.
"How scary," Mara muttered as she quickly got closer. Then she activated the brand.
The effect was immediate.
Arthur froze, then collapsed to the floor, shuddering. By the time she had released the brand, he was already unconscious.
Eyes livid, Officer Mara turned to Felt, her unofficial second in command.
"You best fucking explain, now."
..........
[Arthur POV]
I woke up to the familiar scene of a hospital bed. This time, I was ready, bracing
for the familiar wave of pain.
But… there was nothing. No pain, no ache. Only a slight exhaustion.
Getting up, I saw the same male healer looming over my bed.
I hadn't noticed how tired the man looked. His dark eyes were slightly sunken, and his face drawn. "Ahh, you're awake. Good… get out. Someone else needs this bed."
Stunned, I got out wordlessly. Because of the fight, I had expected to wake up in a cell, or at least tied to the bed.
'Then again, with this brand, they didn't need to,' I remembered bitterly how quickly it had incapacitated me.
Leaving the wing, my body feeling much lighter, I made my way to the Unit 7 building, where I saw Officer Mara standing outside.
I groaned inwardly, my heart sinking.
"Come here, Arthur. We need to talk."
I obeyed wordlessly, feeling sick to my stomach. She led me to her office. Inside was a large table, piled with different important-looking documents. She sat down in the chair, taking a slip of paper.
I stood there awkwardly.
After a moment, she turned back to me.
"Okay then, Arthur. Why don't you tell me what happened?"
I was silent for a moment. A part of me wanted to spill everything, to rant about Noah and the other members.
But another part of me cautioned me to stay silent. I had done my revenge on Noah, and the others could go fuck themselves.
Besides, I didn't trust the officer in front of me either.
"Nothing happened, Officer."
Officer Mara raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so are you telling me I didn't see you kicking Cadet Noah on the floor?"
"No, Miss. What you saw was a misunderstanding. I fell on top of him."
"You fell? From the bottom bunk, on top of him? Who sleeps on the top bunk?"
"Yes, Miss."
There was no point in trying to make a convincing lie. I had no doubt she already knew what had happened, but if I didn't take it further, well, there wasn't much the officer could do.
Officer Mara nodded, trying to hide a small smile. "Very well, Cadet Arthur. You're dismissed. Try not to fall on anyone again."
I nodded, "Yes, Miss," before turning around and leaving.
......…..
Officer Mara allowed herself to smile freely as soon as Arthur had left.
It was strange. Arthur didn't feel like a noble.
Certainly, he looked like one, but he didn't act like one. If anything, he felt more like a soldier than anything else.
She hadn't expected that.
It was also strangely ironic.
Noah no doubt hated Arthur. And Arthur definitely hated him back.
The two couldn't be from more different backgrounds.
And yet, neither had spoken, each of them stubbornly protecting the other.
"How funny, it seems they're more alike than they realize."