Everything felt too fast, too bright, too loud.
He stopped walking and crouched low behind a potted plant near the hall. His arms curled around his knees. The towel slipped off his shoulder. He didn't care. He couldn't make himself move.
His stomach turned. He gagged.
"I—I can't," he mumbled.
Someone touched his shoulder.
He screamed.
The collar flared. His body went stiff, the pain immediate and searing. He bit back another cry, clamping his mouth shut, tasting blood where he'd bitten his tongue.
"It's okay," a new voice said. Young. Kind.
Edoran opened one eye. The boy knelt next to him, not touching him this time. Just close. Calm.
"Hey," He said softly. "You're safe here. I promise."
Edoran stared at him, unable to speak. His whole body still buzzed with the collar's punishment.
His eyes flicked toward it. His jaw clenched.
"We need to do something about that," he muttered under his breath.
Edoran's lip trembled. A strange, desperate laugh almost escaped him.
'Safe? You think this is safe?'
He didn't look at him like he was a thing. Not quite. He didn't look away when Edoran's eyes filled with tears.
He just sat there with him.
For a while, that was enough.
Aria stepped into the room, her heels clicking crisply against the mansion's polished stone path. The late afternoon sun lit up her crimson hair like fire. The air smelled of lilacs and lavender. Too clean and too calm.
Harold was already waiting by the fountain, leaning casually against the railing like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Nice ride," he said, nodding at the armored truck behind her. "You always travel like a warlord?"
Aria didn't smile. "After what Jason pulled last quarter, I be stupid not to."
He rolled his eyes, stepping forward. "You're still paranoid. No one's coming after you here."
Aria stopped short. "You think paranoia is what built this place?"
Harold raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. You win. Again."
She scanned him, head to toe. His unbuttoned collar, his relaxed posture, the smug little grin he always wore when he wanted something.
"You're getting soft," she said. "I remember when you used to ask about my core data, not throw parties."
"I still care about cores," Harold replied. "Just... not as much as champagne fountains today, Auntie."
"Brat, I told you to call me Aria, not Auntie."
She pulled Harold into a headlock before he could protest. He tapped out quickly, both of them laughing like old friends rather than elite royals with enough money and power to start a war..
Edoran stood awkwardly a few steps away, wrapped in silence.
Harold straightened his shirt. "Why did you get me another homunculus? Don't I already have Jake?"
Aria's eyes flicked toward Edoran, sharp and knowing. "This one's different. Not just a standard battle model. He's on the same level as the Warmonger."
Harold's smile disappeared. His eyes widened slightly.
The name hit like thunder.
Warmonger.
The prototype that turned the tide against the mythic tier-5 savage, the Trembling Bard. The thing that sang fear into the bones of soldiers and sank islands with its eerie pulse. Humanity had never beaten anything higher. Warmonger had done the impossible.
Savages came in seven tiers. Tier 5 alone had nearly destroyed the continent. Tier 6 and 7 were… theoretical. Or maybe just secrets.
"Where's my sister?" Aria asked, brushing past the conversation.
"Mother's waiting inside."
As she disappeared into the house, Harold turned to Edoran with a bright grin. "By the way, I'm Harold Faulkner. It's my birthday today. You want some cake?"
Edoran hesitated. He looked at the mansion, then back at Harold. The word birthday barely meant anything. Cake, parties, laughter, it all felt foreign.
But he nodded.
'This is my life now. Let me at least try to make it better by acting along.'
The moment Edoran stepped into the mansion, his breath caught.
It wasn't just grand. It was impossible.
The ceiling stretched higher than the sky outside. The walls curved inward and twisted in geometric illusions. It was like stepping into the throne room of a mad king.
"Surprised, huh?" Harold said, smug. "The wood's from a Greater savage. It bends space. Bigger on the inside."
'Even their walls are monsters', Edoran thought.
In the main hall, dozens of staff buzzed around preparing the space. A man with grey hair barked quiet orders, moving with precise control.
"Gideon, this is my new homunculus," Harold said. "What do you think?"
Gideon scanned Edoran like a jeweler eyeing a rare stone. "Excellent. Your grandfather is arriving soon. Please escort him to the homunculus quarters."
Harold guided him down a long corridor and opened a sleek black door. Inside, a boy sat cross-legged on a bed, eyes glowing faint red.
He looked up and grinned. "Harold, you're back. I've attuned my core more. I think I can hold my own against tier-1s now."
"That's great. I brought you a sparring partner."
The boy turned to Edoran and gave a playful salute. "Hey. I'm Jake. Another lab rat, just like you. How's your core? Tier 2 yet, or are you still in baby mode?"
Edoran blinked. "I... I just woke up."
Jake whistled. "Ah, the newborn phase. The panic, the 'what am I,' the existential dread. Been there. It's fun. You'll get over it."
He slapped the bed next to him. "Sit. Don't worry, I don't bite unless you're into that."
Edoran sat stiffly. "Do they not treat you like a slave here?"
Jake shrugged. "Harold's alright. Doesn't beat me, feed me scraps, or shove me in a cage. Low bar, I know. But hey, he even lets me listen to music while I'm training. That's love."
Edoran looked at him, baffled. Either Jake had cracked or he'd found a way to enjoy the lie.
"My core's like, 15% savage," Jake added. "They didn't expect me to do much. But Harold keeps pushing me to grow. Says I can be more."
'Brainwashed', Edoran thought. 'This boy thinks being a tool is affection.'
"Anyway," Jake stood up, stretching, "let's see what you've got. Training room's this way. You do know how to move your core, right? Or are we still in the 'what's a subspace' part of the tutorial?"
The training room was pristine. White floors. High ceilings. Racks of weapons and armor lined every wall.
Jake raised his hand and focused. A small red hexagon shimmered into view.
"This is subspace. Storage unit. Think of it like a pocket dimension. Humans need a core to use one. We just think."
Edoran watched, absorbing every detail.
Jake smirked. "Your turn. Impress me."
Edoran extended his hand, unsure. He closed his eyes, reached inward, and a massive red hexagonal gate exploded into existence. Bigger than Jake's.
Jake took a step back. "Well, damn. Okay. You win. I'm officially insecure now."
Before Edoran could process what he'd done, clapping echoed behind them.
An old man in a striped blue suit and a tilted hat stepped into the room. He was smiling, but Edoran felt the chill behind that smile.
Jake's cocky air vanished. He stood straighter and bowed. "Master William."
William waved lazily. "No need for that. I'm here to meet our newest marvel."
His gaze locked on Edoran. "You must be the Orion Labs prototype. The core looks... magnificent. Would you mind sparring with my friend?"
Edoran hesitated. He wanted to say no. Every part of him screamed no.
But then he saw Jake's eyes. Serious. Warning.
'Don't refuse.'
"I'll do it," Edoran said, his voice quiet.
A hulking man stepped forward, bare-armed with armor fused to his chest plate. He smiled kindly. "Leon. I am a human so my core is external. And don't worry, I'll go easy."
He didn't.
Leon activated his suit. Orange light glowed from his chest.
Edoran barely had time to breathe before Leon's fist crashed into his face. The world spun. He hit the floor hard, blood trailing from his lip.
'God, that hurt like hell.'
He got up, barely.
Leon came again. Edoran blocked but barely. His arms screamed. Pain shot through his forearm like fire.
He lashed out, fist connecting with Leon's chest. The armor cracked. Leon flew back, coughing but laughing.
"Not bad, kid."
Then Leon's fists glowed brighter.
Edoran ducked the next punch, but Leon was faster, he swept Edoran's legs and drove an uppercut into his chin.
White pain. Edoran collapsed.
'I can't... stand…'
But he did.
Leon smiled. "Alright then. Round two."
"Enough," William said, clapping again. "Good job, Edoran. Two clean hits on my guard. You're worth every penny."
Leon pulled him up, patting his back. "That dodge? Slick as hell."
Edoran groaned. "My chin feels... broken."
Jake leaned in. "You look like a kicked puppy. Cute."
Harold stormed into the room. "Grandpa, seriously? It's my birthday. You promised, no broken bones during sparring!"
William raised his chin, mock offended. "What's a little bruising between friends?"
Harold sighed. "Edoran, go get changed. The outfit's upstairs."
Edoran climbed the stairs, every step aching.
The room was empty. By the bed, a clean black suit waited, pressed and perfect.
He slipped it on slowly, catching sight of himself in the mirror.
Same black eyes. Same white hair. But something had changed. He looked... more solid. More human.
When he re-entered the hall, everything stopped.
Dozens of guests turned to him.
He felt their stares, some curious, others wary, a few jealous.
'They're looking at me like I'm rare metal. Not a person. Not a kid.'
Still, he stood tall.
If this was his new life, he'd wear it like armor.
Even if it burned.