Elian had reached his breaking point.
Weeks of brutal training, endless humiliation, and relentless degradation had pushed him to the edge of his endurance.
Each day, the instructors seemed to find new ways to strip away whatever dignity he had left, molding him into a puppet they could control. But today, something inside him snapped.
It was during a lesson on how to satisfy a customer's every whim, a lesson that involved far more than words and gestures. The instructor, a tall man with a cruel sneer, was particularly vicious today, pushing Elian beyond his limits with cold, calculated malice.
"Do it again," the instructor barked, his voice harsh and demanding. Elian's entire body ached, his muscles trembling with fatigue, but he forced himself to comply. He had no choice.
The instructor circled him like a predator, his eyes gleaming with the anticipation of another failure. "Pathetic," he spat, his words laced with contempt. "You're worthless. You'll never be more than a plaything for men with no better options."
Something inside Elian twisted, the words cutting deeper than any of the blows he had endured. He had tried so hard to suppress his anger, to bury it deep within himself, but today, it surged to the surface with a force he could no longer control.
"I'm not worthless," Elian hissed through gritted teeth, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling with the intensity of his emotions. "And I'm not a plaything."
The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. The other trainees stared at him in shock, their eyes wide with fear. No one ever spoke back to the instructors, not unless they wanted to face the consequences.
The instructor's sneer twisted into a dark, menacing smile. "Oh? The bastard thinks he has a spine, does he?" He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. "Let's see how long that lasts."
Without warning, the instructor's hand lashed out, striking Elian across the face with brutal force. Elian staggered back, his vision blurring as pain exploded across his cheek. But the instructor wasn't finished. He grabbed Elian by the collar, dragging him forward until their faces were inches apart.
"You dare to defy me?" the instructor snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you're better than the rest of the trash in this place? I'll show you your place."
Elian didn't have time to react before the instructor's fist slammed into his stomach, driving the air from his lungs in a violent rush. He doubled over, gasping for breath, but the instructor didn't let up. Blow after blow rained down on him, each one more vicious than the last.
The pain was unbearable, radiating through Elian's entire body with each strike. He could taste blood in his mouth, could feel his strength slipping away with every second. But even as the world blurred around him, even as the agony threatened to consume him, Elian refused to cry out.
He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
Finally, the instructor released him, letting him collapse to the floor in a heap. Elian's vision swam, his body trembling uncontrollably as he lay there, struggling to catch his breath. The other trainees stood frozen, their faces pale with horror as they watched the scene unfold.
The instructor stood over him, his expression one of cold satisfaction. "Drag him to the dark chamber," he ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Let him learn what happens to those who forget their place."
Two guards appeared, their hands closing around Elian's arms as they hauled him to his feet. He could barely stand, his legs buckling beneath him as they dragged him out of the room and down the dimly lit corridors of the Pavilion.
The dark chamber was a place of nightmares, a small, windowless room buried deep within the bowels of the Pavilion. It was where they sent those who needed to be reminded of their place, where the light of day couldn't reach, and the screams of the punished went unheard.
The door to the chamber creaked open, and Elian was thrown inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind him with a finality that made his heart sink. The room was pitch black, the air thick and stifling, pressing in on him from all sides. He tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond, every muscle screaming in protest.
Hours passed, or maybe it was minutes, Elian couldn't tell. Time seemed to lose all meaning in the darkness, the silence so complete that it felt as though the world had forgotten him. Pain throbbed through his body with every breath, every movement, a constant reminder of his defiance and the price he had paid.
As he lay there, bruised and bleeding, his thoughts spiraled into despair. How had it come to this? How had he ended up in like this, a prisoner in a body that wasn't his, forced to endure unimaginable horrors for crimes he hadn't even committed?
He had tried to fight, tried to cling to some shred of dignity, but what good had it done? His defiance had only brought more pain, more suffering. And for what? To prove a point that no one cared about? To make a stand that would be forgotten the moment the door to the dark chamber was opened?
Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as the weight of his situation crashed down on him. He had nothing, no family, no friends, no hope of escape. He was trapped in this nightmare, surrounded by people who saw him as nothing more than a tool to be used and discarded.
For the first time since his transmigration, Elian felt truly alone.
But even in the depths of his despair, that small spark of defiance refused to die. It flickered weakly, barely more than a whisper in the darkness, but it was there, a tiny glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished.
Elian clenched his fists, the movement sending a fresh wave of pain through his battered body. He couldn't afford to give up, couldn't afford to let them break him completely. If he wanted to survive, he would have to be smarter, more careful. Open defiance would only lead to more suffering, but that didn't mean he had to surrender.
He would find another way.
The hours dragged on, each one more agonizing than the last, but eventually, the door to the dark chamber creaked open. A shaft of dim light pierced the darkness, and the guards entered, their expressions blank as they hauled Elian to his feet.
He was too weak to resist, too broken to fight back as they dragged him out of the chamber and back to his dark small room. They threw him inside, the door slamming shut behind them with a deafening thud.
Elian collapsed to the floor, his body trembling with exhaustion as he curled into himself, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cold, hard floor.