CHAPTER 5: INTRODUCTION
Sometime after ONE abandoned them in the dark room, the heavy door slammed shut, and the children settled into an uneasy quiet. A faint lantern on the wall cast a sickly glow across the stone enclosure and just enough light for shapes to exist, but not enough to show comfort. They were a cluster of shivering shadows, each trying to understand how their life had twisted into this nightmare.
John pushed out a shaky breath and spoke calmly, loud enough for all to hear.
"Since we're going to be stuck together… we should probably know each other a little. Even just names."
A few heads lifted. Some flinched at his voice, fear ingrained through fresh trauma, but curiosity tugged them toward him.
John forced a small, reassuring smile.
"I'll go first. My name is John Blackwell. Before I got here… I don't remember anything. Not where I'm from. Not if I had a family. Nothing. I woke up in a forest with blood running down my face, people chasing me like I had killed someone. Then… well, I ran. And now… here I am."
The group sat still, processing. Someone swallowed, loud in the silence.
Nico blinked, then his eyes widened as if the pieces of a puzzle snapped together.
"Aha. That explains everything. Thought you were just a weirdo."
John stared back, deadpan.
"…Thanks for the unwanted commentary."
Nico raised both hands defensively. "Hey, I'm being supportive. In my own special way."
Despite everything, a small laugh escaped John. A few of the others eased, tension loosening an inch.
John nodded for Nico to continue.
Nico inhaled, his voice shifting, lighter on the surface, but shaking underneath.
"My full name's Nicolas Ashveil — but Nico is easier. I lived with my grandpa in a small village. Just me and the old man. He taught me to hunt, fish, steal… uh, borrow. Temporarily."
A smirk, masking a tremor.
"One day, I went up to the springs near the mountains. People say the waters there glow at night — some kind of ancient blessing. I wanted to see if it was true."
John tilted his head. "So you got kidnapped because you were sightseeing?"
"That's the short version. The long version involves me stepping into a bandit camp thinking it was a hot spring hotel."
John stared, unimpressed.
"…You're unbelievable."
Nico shrugged proudly. "What can I say? Genius looks like stupidity if you lack vision."
But the smile didn't reach his eyes. The kids could see the pain beneath the sarcasm. A piece of home ripped away, just like each of them.
John didn't push. He simply nodded.
He then turned toward the silver-haired girl sitting a bit apart from the rest, a golden sigil faintly glowing on her forehead — there were no wings, but she looked angelic.
"And you? What's your name?"
The girl's gaze flicked toward him — hesitant, fragile.
"My name is Elowen… Elowen Dawnstar. But my friends call me El."
Her voice was soft... too soft for a world like this.
John softened his tone. "Happy to meet you, El."
She nodded reluctantly. "Um... happy to meet you, too."
Nico leaned close and whispered to John:
"She's Lumari. Winged folk. Children would normally have small wings by her age."
John glanced politely back at her, genuinely curious.
"If it's not rude to ask… what happened to your wings?"
Elowen blinked, surprised by his honesty rather than offended.
"I… can hide them. Lumari can switch between forms when we want to. Wings… can get in the way indoors."
Her faint smile flickered like candlelight.
"That's really cool," John replied sincerely.
For the first time since arriving, she looked less afraid.
John's eyes drifted toward the quietest boy in the room, curled up tightly, as if trying to disappear into the stone.
"And you?"
The boy tensed.
"…Thomas," he whispered, staring at the floor.
John waited, but Thomas's shoulders only hunched tighter.
Nico whispered, "He's been like that since he got here. Barely talks. I bet he thinks we will eat him if he talks too much."
Thomas flinched, hearing that. His fingers dug into his arms, shame burning across his cheeks.
John's voice gentled. "It's okay. Thank you for telling us your name."
Thomas didn't lift his head, but a tiny breath of relief escaped his mouth.
John turned to a boy who watched every movement like a predator sizing prey. Crimson hair, red sigil on his forehead, silt eyes like a snake's . There was intensity in them — danger and isolation intertwined.
"And you?" John asked.
The boy studied John in silence — then spoke, voice like a blade.
"Malrik. I am from Maltherion. I was banished by my family. They labeled me a defect and sold me to be someone else's trash."
Not a tremble. Not a hint of emotion.
Just cold truth.
Nico muttered under his breath, "The Maltherion are just the scariest."
Malrik stared through him — daring him to talk.
Nico quickly shut up.
John held Malrik's gaze — not intimidated, just understanding.
"Well," he said, quiet but firm, "you're not trash here."
Malrik didn't answer… but the tension in his shoulders loosened a fraction.
Next was the girl with sky-blue eyes and trembling hands. She looked human like him… but the emptiness behind her gaze felt far darker.
"My name is Thalia," she murmured. "Thalia Arcana. Though I don't know why it matters. We're all dead anyway."
The words hit the room like a cold wind. A few kids looked away, others clutched themselves tighter.
John refused the despair.
"We're not dead now, are we?" he told her. "They said they're going to train us. If we survive… we get to live. And we're going to make sure all of us do."
Thalia stared at him — eyes hollow yet searching — as if trying to decide whether hope was worth the risk of believing.
John offered a small smile — not cheerful, but stubborn.
She didn't answer. But she didn't look away either.
Then—
"MY TURN!"
Two voices. One loud. One louder.
Everyone jumped.
Two identical boys marched into view, pushing each other aside.
"No — I won rock-paper-scissors!"
"You cheated!"
"Your face is cheating!"
John stared at them, dumbfounded. "Twins?"
They froze mid-argument to strike a pose.
"That's right!" said the first proudly. "Lucian Shadowmane — at your service."
"And I'm Orion Shadowmane," the second declared, puffing his chest. "The better one."
Lucian elbowed him. "If by better you mean weaker—"
Orion elbowed back. "Stronger—"
"Stupider."
"Smarter!"
They were chaos wrapped in fur — literally. Their hair was black with faint feline shine, and their subtle fangs glinted under the lantern.
"We're bestiars from the Abyss Panthers bloodline," Lucian said dramatically. "Sneakiest hunters in the world."
"Except when we're captured because of one idiot," Lucian grumbled.
Orion shot him a betrayed look. "Hey! The darts were poisoned! how am I supposed to know that? That's cheating!"
The group stared.
John sighed. "Well, I'm sure you'll both be helpful."
"No promises," both said in sync.
Nico snorted. "Oh great. Two of them."
John shook his head, then looked toward a girl sitting alone in a dimmer corner. The air around her seemed… wrong. Her skin had a faint shine like moonlight on water, but her eyes — one red, one white — were eerie, mismatched portals into something not fully grounded in reality. Her expression never changed, like she wasn't truly here.
He approached slowly.
"What's your name?"
She stared into nowhere. For a moment, he wondered if she heard him at all.
Then her head turned, movements slow and stiff, like a puppet learning to mimic a human.
"…Nyara," she whispered. "That is what I am called."
John waited.
Nyara blinked once. "I am from the lumen race. I was by the river. The reflections whispered. Then hands… pulled me away."
"Who pulled you?" John asked gently.
Nyara tilted her head, puzzled by the question.
"…I don't know if they were real."
A chill crawled up John's spine. He nodded and slowly stepped back.
Nico whispered behind his hand, "Yeah… she is creapy."
She returned to staring into the void as if the real world interested her less than whatever she saw in her mind.
John swallowed and moved on, his gaze landing next on a girl with dark blue hair, sharp yellow eyes, and wolf ears peeking through. She watched him with narrowed eyes, defiant and ready to bite if threatened.
"And you?" John said carefully.
She crossed her arms. "Amara Moonfang, from the Fenrir bloodline. Betrayed by a greedy bastard who thought trust can be broken for gold."
Her tail flicked with irritation.
"You humans are all the same. Cheap loyalty. Cheaper hearts."
John raised a brow. "You know I'm human, right?"
"Obviously." She glared harder. "If I wanted to hide it, I would've ignored you."
Nico hissed under his breath, "Yeesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the cage."
Amara growled... actually growled.
He lifted his hands. "Hey, compliments only."
John carefully nodded. "Thanks for sharing. I'm… sorry that happened to you."
She blinked suspiciously.
"…You're weird," she muttered.
John wasn't sure if that was an insult or the beginnings of friendship.
Now only two remained. One was a boy wrapped in vines — literally. They sprouted from his arms and curled across his body like living armor. His gaze was sharp, not hostile... ok, maybe it was. Especially toward the humans in the room.
John approached slowly, giving him space.
"What's your name?"
The vines shifted — protective — as the boy eyed him.
"…Sylias," he said at last. "Sylias Pestilora."
"And how did—"
"Humans," Sylias snapped before John finished. "Humans tricked me. Asked for my help. I trusted them."
His vines curled tighter, as though remembering.
"They drugged me. Sold me. And now I am here."
His glare burned into John — not blaming him specifically, but the species he represented.
John didn't argue. Didn't defend. He simply nodded, quiet respect in his eyes.
"…Thank you for telling us."
Sylias expected mockery. Accusation. Dismissal.
But when none came, the tension in his vines slowly eased.
And finally — the girl no one sat next to. The one marked with black and white patterns lacing her skin like cracks in marble. Her long golden hair framed a face that seemed carved from elegance — but her eyes were pure black. Empty. Calm.
"What's your name?" John asked, carefully polite.
She met his gaze unblinkingly.
"Liora Ebonflare."
She paused. Her voice was calm, distant — yet strangely powerful.
"I am here because I am a Nephraiel. Born of two opposing forces. Divine and Profane."
Nico muttered, "Oh boy. Here we go…"
Liora continued anyway, eyes unflinching.
"The Lumari soar in light. The Maltherion descend in shadows. Their essence does not belong together. When both exist in one body…"
Her expression never shifted.
"…the world calls it a mistake."
Silence stretched — heavy and cold.
Elowen stared at the floor, discomfort flickering in her gold eyes. Malrik's burning gaze darted away.
John swallowed. "That… sounds lonely."
Liora blinked once. No emotion flickered across her features.
"Lonely is irrelevant," she said. "Existence does not require acceptance."
Then she fell silent — retreating into stillness like a statue that had finished speaking its lines.
John stood slowly, stepping into the center of the room. The lantern light cast his shadow long — stretching like a fragile connection between them all.
He looked around at each of them — twelve strangers bound by chains and fear.
"Thank you, everyone," he said softly.
then He continued slowly.
"I know you're scared. Angry. Confused, I know I am. But… we have each other now. We survive together, or not at all."
Some eyes lifted. Slivers of trust forming.
"No pessimism. No divisions," he said, gaze passing over Thalia. "No giving up on yourself," he added toward Thomas. "We are not trash," he said toward Malrik. "And we are not mistakes," toward Liora. "We are not alone."
Elowen's lips parted — whispering hope.
Nico clapped his hands once, loud and confident.
"aye aye captain,"
John chuckled. "Well, that makes you my first mate, don't disappoint."
Nico winked. "No promises."
Laughter, small but real, warmed the room like a breath of sunlight.
Even Malrik's mouth twitched. Amara's ears perked. Sylias's vines relaxed. Thalia's eyes softened, just a little. Nyara blinked as though she had noticed reality again. Thomas quietly wiped away tears no one mentioned.
For a moment… the darkness wasn't so overwhelming.
Nico yawned loudly. "Alright, emotional bonding time over. We've got a terrifying future tomorrow, might as well be well-rested for it."
John nodded. "Yeah… let's sleep."
The kids settled however they could: curled into corners, hugging blankets of stolen clothing, leaning against each other for warmth they would never admit needing.
John sat beside Nico. The stone was cold beneath them, but John's chest felt a little lighter than before.
"Hey," Nico whispered after a moment. "You did good, Captain."
John smirked tiredly. "You keep calling me that and you'll have to salute."
John shook his head — but didn't deny the warmth that spread in his chest.
As the lantern flickered low, the room gradually fell under the hush of sleep. Breathing slowed. Fear dimmed.
Sylias curled protectively around his vines.
Amara rested with her back to the wall, ears twitching.
Nyara remained staring into darkness, unreadable.
Thalia hugged her knees, eyes half-open but no longer hollow.
Thomas finally drifted into exhausted dreams.
The twins slept back-to-back, one snoring, one drooling.
Malrik dozed with arms crossed defensively.
Liora lay perfectly still, like a marble sculpture touched by moonlight.
Elowen's faint glow dimmed, like a star going to rest.
John closed his eyes, whispering to himself:
"We'll survive… together."
For the first time since waking in this new world… the idea didn't feel impossible.
Somewhere beyond the stone walls, unseen watchers monitored their slumber.
The Covenant's experiment had begun.
But inside this room, even if just for a fragile moment, twelve lost children found the first spark of something powerful.
Not hope.
Not yet.
Something smaller.
But something real:
A beginning.