Lucian sat on the edge of the bed, his breathing slowly evening out as he stared at the swirling cosmos outside the enchanted window. The echoes of the nightmare still clung to him, vivid and suffocating. He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening as he tried to understand why that memory had resurfaced.
Why now? he wondered, his brow furrowing. That incident was years ago, a chapter of his old life he had buried deep. And yet, here it was, rising like a specter in his dreams—but in this new body, in this strange world. It didn't make sense.
The faint scent of silk and lavender hung in the air, pulling his attention back to his surroundings. He glanced around and noticed the bed he'd woken up in. Did I really sleep in her bed? The thought sent a shiver through him, equal parts unease and disbelief. The events of the previous night blurred together—the soup, Selene's presence, her soft command to rest. He touched his chest absently, realizing the dull ache from his wounds was gone.
His body felt different—energized, whole. He rolled his shoulders, testing the limits of his movement. The pain that had plagued him since his capture was now a faint memory, the cuts and bruises on his skin faded to nearly invisible marks.
That soup... it must have been infused with something powerful. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching his arms experimentally. His mind churned with questions, but one thought cut through the rest: I don't want to be weak again.
Lucian's thoughts turned inward, reflecting on his current state. In a world where power determined status, he couldn't bear to remain at the bottom. The memory of Selene's strength, her sheer presence, replayed in his mind. She was an S-Class supervillain—a title that placed her at the pinnacle of power. And even Amelia, her maid, was an A-Class, capable of feats most could only dream of. Lucian clenched his jaw. There must be a way. Some path to strength.
His musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Amelia stepped inside, carrying a tray with a steaming plate of food and a glass of water. Her movements were precise, her sharp emerald eyes locking onto him.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she observed, setting the tray on a nearby table.
"Nah, I'm good. Just a small dream," Lucian replied, shrugging.
Amelia's lips twitched into the faintest smirk. "Good. Freshen up. The lady is busy."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Busy? And here I thought I'd have the pleasure of her company first thing in the morning."
Amelia's smirk grew slightly. "Be grateful, pet, that you were allowed to sleep in her bed at all. Not many can boast such a privilege."
He frowned but decided not to press the issue. Instead, he walked toward the adjoining bathroom, pausing at the door. "Amelia, do you know why I had that dream?"
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she replied, "Dreams are curious things, Lucian. Perhaps it's your past catching up to you. Or perhaps it's this new life shaking loose old fears."
Lucian nodded, her words offering little comfort but enough to keep him thinking. He stepped into the bathroom, letting the cool water splash against his face. As he freshened up, his mind circled back to one thought: I can't stay like this. I need to be stronger.
---
When he returned to the main room, Amelia was waiting by the tray, her arms crossed. "Eat," she instructed. "You'll need your strength."
Lucian sat and began eating, the meal simple but satisfying. Between bites, he glanced at Amelia, her composed demeanor masking the power he knew she held. She wasn't just a servant; she was an A-Class supervillain, a force to be reckoned with. An idea began to form.
"Amelia," he said cautiously, setting down his fork. "You're strong. And not just in the 'open jars and lift heavy things' kind of way. You're trained, disciplined. Can you teach me?"
Her brow arched slightly. "Teach you?"
"To fight," Lucian clarified. "To defend myself. To be more than just… this." He gestured vaguely at himself, his tone laced with determination. "I don't want to feel weak anymore."
Amelia studied him, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Training isn't a game, Lucian. It's painful, grueling. Are you sure you can handle it?"
Lucian's jaw tightened. "I can handle it."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Very well. It starts today. Finish your breakfast."
Her matter-of-fact tone sent a spark of excitement through him. Amelia wasn't just humoring him—she was taking him seriously. He nodded, finishing his meal with renewed purpose.
As she turned to leave, she glanced back over her shoulder. "Don't disappoint me, pet. I don't tolerate incompetence."
Lucian smirked, rising from his seat. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Amelia's eyes gleamed with a hint of approval before she exited the room, leaving Lucian alone with his thoughts. He took a deep breath, his mind buzzing with anticipation. This is the first step. I will be strong. No matter what it takes.