The icy eyes of the young man, considered by many to be the most dangerous squad leader of the Infinites, gave Amir one of his infamous glares.
Amir considered his friend could be frightening at times, and this was one of those occasions; Chanon was obviously not used to being contradicted.
Finally, Amir decided to look away from the post and resignedly kicked a small rock that was near his boot. However, he couldn't hold back and spoke again:
"Come on, Chanon, the kid will end up dead at this rate."
Incredibly, a lazy smile appeared fleetingly on the tall captain's lips. Then he addressed Amir with eyes that held a trace of amusement. And so, Chanon spoke without taking his eyes off the post and the thin boy who was struggling to get up: "That's why you're the best, Amir. You can't just stop saying whatever's on your mind, even if that means risking your life on it."
Amir smiled. He had seen a fleeting sign of appreciation on Chanon's face when the helpless slave boy had refused to whip the old woman. He knew well Chanon. Although he was his superior, he was first his friend. But now he knew what his companion was waiting for at that moment. Chanon wanted the boy to show his power. It was what must be done, what they had been ordered to do. But he wasn't cold-blooded enough to push the young slave to the brink. Not Amir, he couldn't remain impassive while he shuffled his feet impatiently and was already biting his cheeks out of sheer anxiety. Nevertheless, he held his own and, after an audible sigh, returned his attention to the scrawny slave tied to the pole.
However, no matter how hard it was, Amir understood Chanon's actions. They had a mission. Under no circumstances could they disobey orders. Valuable resources for the cause had been deployed, and they couldn't blow up their cover to stop that injustice, no matter the horror or how hard it was letting it be. This wasn't the first time it had happened. Perhaps when Chanon gained more seniority and experience, they would be able to make decisions more freely. But they both understood that something bigger was at stake. The future of anything good or justice that remained in the world.
"Come on, kid, show him what you're made of..." Chanon said, snapping Amir out of his reverie with those unexpected words. A calmer examination showed the restless Amir that his captain's body was now tense, one of his hands moving toward his belt. And Amir understood that they were finally going to take action. Immediately, his eyes met the approval of his captain's dark gaze, and Amir sprang into action. Well, they were about to disobey a direct order. Screw it all! Amir thought, smiling.
Chanon watched Amir's slender figure slip away until he reached the bound boy. Whenever they wanted to, Amir and Chanon could pass almost imperceptibly, like ghosts. That was a hell of an ability to spy on the enemy. They were the only ones with that power; they blended in easily. That's why they had been assigned to the quarries where the guards and the dreaded new bionic weapons swarmed. Their objective was to gather information and also to search for raw Infinites, as Ghael called them. New-found Infinites, who wanted to join their ranks.
Chanon looked at the sun in the sky. No matter how much they had perfected their technique, their shadows still betrayed them, and if anyone had looked closely, they would have noticed the darkness cast by their tall physique at that hour.
Chanon watched with satisfaction as the foreman froze. Amir was practicing his specialty, and the guard's face looked red and bewildered, as if it were about to burst. The foreman held his fractured hand; it was Chanon who had made that cruel hand burst. Looking back now, it never occurred to him to suspect that the gaunt slave was an Infinite. Chanon had simply been drawn to his courage in standing up to the foreman. That wretched kid had refused to play along with the whipping act. That bravery made Chanon stop in his tracks and his searching mission. When the abusive man tried to hit the boy, Chanon caused the bones in his hand to break, but then he noticed the burn on the foreman's hand. And so he suspected there was an Infinite in the quarries. Amir, for his part, had tried to freeze the foreman on the spot, but Chanon stopped him, since by then he suspected they had discovered infinite potential. Was it perhaps the gaunt kid on the pole? The doubts disappeared when the whip didn't cut the boy's bony back. There it was; it had been unconscious, but a defense mechanism had been activated in the boy.
Meanwhile, on the punishment post, Ilia hung her head, thinking with deep sadness that if only she could free herself from her bonds, she could at least put up some resistance. The feeling of rage had gone as quickly as the panic. Then she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Was this the end? Was death stalking her? She opened her eyes and was about to say goodbye to her life when she saw a young man standing near her. He wasn't a guard because he wasn't dressed like one. The stranger wasn't a slave, since he was rather muscular and clearly wasn't suffering their hardships.
The young man wore a tight-fitting dark suit. It was a uniform piece that covered him from neck to toe, highlighting every muscle. His face could have been mistaken for a girl's, judging by the delicate lines of its features surrounded by blond curls. He soon noticed Ilia looking at him and winked knowingly. Over the tight suit, he wore a belt with weapons holstered in various compartments.
Ilia was puzzled. Who was this stranger? He was approaching her, and no one seemed to notice him. No matter how frantically she searched for signs among the crowd of slaves, they only stared at her with regret and resignation. Am I going crazy? She thought. A glance back showed her the punisher frozen until Ilia focused again on the young man; he was very close and gaping at her. Ilia wasn't shy because she was used to it: it was because of her eyes. Their strange color, somewhere between green and gold, seemed to change every time, causing estupor. Some observing slaves had told her so.
"Axel?" He said. Yes, the stranger asked, and then Ilia blinked. He was addressing her with a foreign name. However, something reacted to that name inside her mind, like a flash of light stretching, but Ilia didn't know why. The boy stepped forward, and with what seemed like a simple tug of his hands, the rope that bound her came loose. She looked at him, half puzzled and half suspicious, as she struggled to stay on her feet.
"No, but you have his eyes..." Those were clearly his thoughts in words. Then he added: "This is a basic trick; even the least gifted can cast off... Come on, I'll help you get out of here."
Ilia didn't understand anything he was saying, but he seemed to want to help her, and anything was better than staying there. Even if that gallant young man intended to kill her later, that was preferable to dying at the hands of the foreman and his rusty knife. Without hesitation, Ilia took two steps toward him until the boy grabbed her hand and pulled her along. Ilia couldn't help but notice that he smelled pleasant and that he was so clean. Then a strange sensation ran through her body, and she immediately heard the murmur of the crowd. As they walked away, the mass of slaves moved away from the place, and many murmured, looking disoriented. Suddenly, a cry of alarm rose from the camp, and she didn't have to turn around to know it was that evil warden yelling, "Rebels! There are rebels in the quarries...!!!"