The air thickened, the familiar scent of damp earth and decay filling his nostrils. A low growl, guttural and menacing, vibrated through the ground, shaking him to his core. He saw them, his sister and aunt, huddled together, their faces pale with terror. The Ravager loomed, its obsidian form a monstrous silhouette against the fading light.
His sister, her voice a desperate wail, cried out, "Aidan! HELP!" His aunt, her body shielding his sister, mirrored her fear, her eyes wide with a silent plea.
The Ravager lunged. A sickening crunch, a strangled cry, then silence. Blood splattered, painting the fading light in gruesome hues. Aidan lunged forward, screaming, his hands reaching out, but his body remained rooted to the spot. The Ravager turned its gaze upon him, those burning red eyes boring into his soul. Its maw opened wide in a silent roar, and Aidan jolted awake, gasping for air, his heart hammering against his ribs. The cold, metallic walls of the prison cell greeted him, a grim reminder that the nightmare, in a way, was never truly over.
"Bad dream, huh, kid?" Varn chuckled, a gruff sound that grated on Aidan's raw nerves. Aidan remained silent, the memory of the nightmare still vivid in his mind. The images – the Ravager, his sister's terrified scream, his aunt's desperate plea – replayed like a haunting film. His resolve hardened, a cold, burning anger fueling his every thought. He would escape this wretched place. He would find and kill all the beasts in this world.
The monotonous rhythm of the ship's engines, a constant thrumming in his ears, began to grate on his nerves. Days bled into weeks, each one a agonizing reminder of his lost freedom. The flickering of the containment fields cast eerie shadows, dancing across the cell walls, a constant reminder of his confinement. The air grew thick with the metallic tang of recycled air, a constant reminder of his confinement. Varn, his face a mask of hardened indifference, stared out the small viewport, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Aidan, unable to bear the silence, buried his face in his hands, the memories of his family a suffocating weight on his chest.
Finally, the ship shuddered to a halt, the familiar hum of the engines replaced by an unsettling silence. A tremor shook the ship, a jarring interruption to the monotonous rhythm of their journey. Aidan's heart pounded against his ribs, a chilling premonition gripping him. The air grew heavy with anticipation as the ship began its descent, the familiar hum of the engines replaced by a low, ominous growl. Then, a sudden cessation of all movement, followed by the faint hiss of decompression. The door to his cell slid open, and two guards entered, their expressions impassive.
"Time to move," one of them barked.
Aidan and Varn were escorted off the ship, their wrists bound with energy cuffs. The stark architecture of the Aeloria branch family's fortress loomed before them, its obsidian spires piercing the crimson sky like jagged teeth. Each step brought him closer to the unknown, a chilling dread settling in the pit of his stomach. The planet's surface stretched out before Aidan, a breathtaking mix of crimson-hued forests and silver rivers that shimmered under the pale light of twin suns. The air, crisp and clean, tasted different, a sharp contrast to the metallic tang of the recycled air aboard the ship. Each step felt heavier, a subtle weight pressing down on him, a stark contrast to the near-weightlessness he'd grown accustomed to on Vesta-7. Alien beauty... the words tasted like ash in his mouth. This breathtaking planet, a stark contrast to the grim realities of his existence, only served to amplify his despair.
He barely had time to take in the alien beauty before they were ushered into a sleek, black cruiser waiting nearby. The vehicle's polished exterior reflected the fortress like a dark mirror. Inside, the hum of advanced engines was a stark contrast to the ominous silence that hung between the guards and their prisoners as they sped toward the main building. The tension in the air was palpable, and Aidan's mind raced as he prepared for what lay ahead.
Varn, his gaze unwavering, moved with a practiced ease, his every step a silent assessment of his surroundings. He was led away toward the dungeons without a word. Aidan, however, was directed into the main building. The air in the grand hall was thick with the scent of old money and forgotten power. The floor, polished to a blinding sheen, reflected the neon lights, creating a mesmerizing dance of shadows. The walls soared high with vaulted ceilings supported by columns carved to resemble ancient beasts. Intricate murals and carvings depicted the Aeloria family's conquests and their tamed monsters, each scene more grandiose than the last, a chilling testament to the Aeloria family's ruthless ambition. Aidan, his gaze drawn to the intricate carvings, felt a shiver crawl down his spine.
At the far end of the hall, two thrones stood on an elevated dais. The central throne, larger and more ornate, remained empty, its golden frame encrusted with glowing gemstones. Seated on the slightly smaller throne beside it was the Grand Elder of the Aeloria branch family.
The Grand Elder was a man of striking presence, his silver hair flowing like a river of moonlight, and his piercing violet eyes radiating authority. He leaned forward, studying Aidan with a mix of curiosity and disdain.
A sudden chime echoed in Aidan's mind, and the system interface flickered to life.
[System Notice: Entity Analysis Incomplete]
[Name: Adam Aeloria]
[Cultivation Level: Peak Yellow stage]
[Abilities: ???]
[Affiliations: ???]
Aidan thought, The system must have filled in the cultivation level because of what Varn told me.His musings were cut short when a sharp shove from a guard sent him sprawling to the floor.
"Show respect to the Grand Elder!" the guard barked.
Aidan scrambled to his knees, his heart pounding as he looked up. The Grand Elder's piercing violet eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, exuding a pressure that made Aidan's chest tighten and his limbs feel leaden. The sheer difference in their cultivation levels was palpable, like standing under the weight of a crushing tide, and Aidan couldn't shake the feeling that the elder could peer directly into his innermost thoughts.
Adam's gaze hardened, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice a quiet but firm command. "What did you find in the mines?"
Aidan's heart pounded against his ribs, each beat a hammer blow against his resolve. He knew he walked a fine line. Honesty would likely be met with suspicion, while any deception would surely be met with swift and brutal retribution. The Elder's gaze, cold and penetrating, seemed to bore into his very soul. Aidan felt a shiver crawl down his spine, a chilling premonition gripping him. The silence stretched, each heartbeat echoing in the oppressive stillness of the hall. Adam's patience, or perhaps it was his amusement, was evident in the slight curl of his lips.
The guard stepped forward, his hand hovering near his weapon. Aidan's breath hitched. He braced himself for the inevitable, his mind racing, desperately searching for a way out of this predicament.
"Speak, or we will make you speak," the guard warned.
But Aidan's resolve didn't waver. After several minutes of fruitless interrogation, the Grand Elder sighed, waving his hand dismissively.
"Take him to the cells," he ordered. "We'll use the mind probe tomorrow. The council will want to be present for this."
As the guards dragged Aidan away, he fought to keep his fear in check. The mind probe was a device notorious for its invasive nature, capable of extracting memories and thoughts with brutal precision. If they used it on him, his secrets—including the system—would be laid bare not just that he might become vegetable person. He had to act before then.
Back in the cell, Aidan's mind raced. He replayed his conversations with Varn, recalling every detail the man had shared about the Aeloria family.
"The Grand Elder, Adam Aeloria, is a Peak Yellow-level cultivator," Varn had explained. "That's the highest rank in the hierarchy here apart from their patriach of course who is in Green rank. Below him are the council members, most of them at orange level. Then you have the guards, who range from red to black. The rest are just fodder."
"What about cultivation levels?" Aidan had asked, eager to understand the system.
Varn had smirked. "When you first tame a beast, you're at the Black level, the entry point. From there, it goes Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and finally Violet. Each level represents a significant increase in power, both for the tamer and their beasts. But advancing isn't easy. It requires not just strength but also resources, knowledge, and… sacrifice."
Aidan had listened intently, filing away the information. Now, as he sat in the cold, damp cell, he realized how much of an underdog he truly was. He was surrounded by people who could crush him with a thought, and yet, he had no choice but to fight.
I need a plan thought Aidan.
The mind probe... the very word sent a shiver down his spine. He had to find a way to prevent them from using it. Escape was his only option, and he had to act fast.