Location: Jerkin Residence - Main Corridor / Garden Terrace
Time: Late Afternoon
---
The Jerkin residence was a monument to wealth and power—a sprawling estate of marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. The afternoon sun poured through the glass, casting long shadows across the polished floors. The air smelled of fresh flowers and old money.
Leo walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the marble. His posture was different now—straighter, more confident. The soft, kiddish demeanor that had once defined him was gone, replaced by something sharper. Something harder.
His mind was elsewhere.
What did he put inside me? he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of uneasy curiosity. It wasn't like the thing I saw before. That creature was... massive. Hungry. This was different.
He paused, his gaze drifting to the window. He could feel it—the faint, squirming presence within his chest. It wasn't the same as Orrhion. It was smaller. Quieter. Like a whisper in the back of his mind.
They came out of nowhere. Those... things. I don't know what they are. But when Elijah gave them to me, they didn't feel like the creature. They felt... helpful.
He shook his head, continuing his walk.
I don't know what they are. But they listen to me. They follow my commands. And when I asked them to find prospects—people who would be useful—they just... did.
He paused, his brow furrowing.
I don't even know what they look like. Not really. They're like... shadows. Shifting. Moving. Like smoke, but alive. Like something that shouldn't exist.
He flexed his fingers, the faint sensation of their presence lingering in his chest.
Elijah gave them to me. He didn't say what they were. He just said they would help. And they did. They found me people. Loyal people. People who are willing to follow me. My own little... cadre.
He paused on the word, rolling it around in his mind. Cadre. That sounds about right. Not a clique. Not a gang. A cadre. My cadre.
---
The garden terrace was a sprawling expanse of manicured hedges, marble fountains, and flowers that bloomed in every color of the rainbow. A small group of maids had gathered near the edge of the terrace, their voices low and conspiratorial.
One of them—a young woman with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue—leaned toward her companion.
"Did you see him? The young master Leo? He's... different."
Her companion nodded, her voice carrying a note of genuine surprise. "I know. When did he become so... manly? He used to be so quiet. So... small."
The first maid's eyes trailed after Leo's retreating form, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "More like heroic, if you ask me. The way he walks now... it's like he owns the place."
The other maids giggled, their voices carrying a note of playful admiration.
Leo heard them. His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smirk. He slowed his pace, adding a slight sway to his step—a subtle swagger that was entirely intentional.
The maids' blushes deepened. A few of them rolled their eyes, but most of them couldn't help but stare.
---
A figure stepped into Leo's path—a maid with sharp features and a cruel smile. She moved with purpose, her steps quick and deliberate. As she passed him, she stumbled—her body colliding with his.
Her hands shot out, grabbing his coat.
"You!" she cried, her voice carrying a note of exaggerated distress. "You always do this! You take advantage of me, and you never take accountability for your actions!"
Leo's expression remained calm, almost bored. His internal voice carried a note of cold amusement.
If you're in the mood for games, lady, trust me—ever since I leveled up, I've been feeling confident. These lousy antics that used to eat my time are like shit to me.
He stared at the maid, his gaze cold and unwavering.
"What do you mean by taking advantage of you?"
The maid faltered—just for a moment. Her eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Since when is this kid so good with words? she thought.
"He visits your home!" she blurted out. "Lately! You're always at our residence!"
Leo's brow arched. "You mean like last night?"
The maid's eyes lit up. "Exactly!"
Leo's lips curved into a thin smile. He gestured toward the garden, where a group of servants had gathered, watching the scene unfold with expressions of disappointed disapproval.
"Last night," Leo said, his voice calm, "I was in my quarters. Alone. As I have been every night for the past week. Your claim is false. And you know it."
The maid's face paled. She glanced toward —Caspian's mother—who was watching from the edge of the terrace, her expression one of cold fury.
The maid realized her mistake.
Leo leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Next time you think to screw some sucker, make sure to add extra cells to your head first."
The maid's face flushed with humiliation. She stumbled backward, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Leo straightened, his gaze sweeping the gathered servants. His voice carried a note of quiet authority.
"Let that be a lesson to all of you. Don't lower your energy and time on good-for-nothings that aren't worth your air."
His gaze lingered on Caspian's mother —cold, knowing, and utterly unimpressed.
Caspian's mother face contorted with barely contained rage. Her hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white.
Leo passed her, his shoulder brushing against hers—a subtle, deliberate gesture of disrespect.
---
From a window high above, Seraphina Jerkins watched the scene unfold. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
This boy is becoming more interesting, she thought. I like it. Maybe I can use him to investigate the mole in our base.
---
The room was quiet—a study filled with leather-bound books and the faint scent of old wood. Jericho sat in a high-backed chair, his expression one of quiet exhaustion. His mother, Lilia, stood by the window, her posture rigid, her expression one of cold authority.
"The graduation ceremony is tomorrow," Lilia said, her voice carrying a note of sharp command. "You will be giving the speech. You will be ushering the badges to the trainees. You will keep an open mind and not lose focus."
Jericho's voice was flat. "I know, Mother."
Lilia turned to him, her eyes narrowing. "Do you? Because lately, you've been... distracted."
Jericho's jaw tightened. "I'm not distracted."
"You are." Lilia stepped closer, her voice carrying a note of cold certainty. "The Crucible Grounds tournament opened your eyes, didn't it? The incredible talents. The Samrajya Dragomir's defensive display. The Frostlander's wild range. Your brothers' sudden black horse performances. And that monster—Chloe Halvern."
She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"It made you doubt yourself, didn't it? Made you wonder if you're truly on the same level as your peers."
Jericho's expression remained unreadable. His internal voice carried a note of bitter acknowledgment.
She's right, he thought. I don't know what these suits really are. These... graded AI inputs. But whatever they are, they've made me realize something. I'm not special. I'm not the strongest. I'm just... firstborn.
Lilia reached out, her hand cupping his cheek. Her touch was cold—devoid of warmth or affection.
"You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself," she said, her voice carrying a note of cold command. "You have responsibilities."
Jericho's voice was barely a whisper. "I know. I'm the firstborn. I need to be a gentleman. I need to be composed. I need to be the face of the Jerkin family."
Lilia's eyes narrowed. "Don't talk back to your mother."
Jericho's jaw tightened. "I'm not—"
"Whether you like it or not, that's what your father and I decided. The type of man you should be. Even your brothers—those two—try to outshine you. Try to do things that say otherwise. But what won't ever change is the amount of favor you acquired since birth."
She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"You are the firstborn. It's your duty—while your father is not around—to maintain our family image."
Jericho stared at her for a long moment. His internal voice carried a note of quiet despair.
Don't know why, he thought, but I'm starting to feel jealous of my other brothers. Probably having fun with themselves while I'm here... bored. Tired from all my mother's nagging.
He sighed inwardly.
What I wouldn't give to be them right now.
---
The room fell silent. Lilia turned, walking toward the door.
"Get some rest," she said, her voice carrying a note of cold command. "Tomorrow is important."
Jericho watched her go, his expression unreadable.
The door closed behind her.
And Jericho sat alone, his thoughts a storm of doubt, jealousy, and quiet despair.