The cold light of dawn barely penetrated the narrow window of Seo-Yun's cell, casting long, cruel shadows across the rough stone floor. His body was a battered map of pain—bruises blackened and purpled across his ribs, muscles stiff and trembling from yesterday's merciless punishment. The brand on his back burned beneath the thin, ragged cloth, a constant reminder of his captivity. But worse than the physical agony was the unyielding weight of the collar pressed tightly around his neck, biting into his skin and reminding him he was bound—body, mind, and soul.
Before his mind could even gather itself, the heavy iron door creaked open with a harsh clang that echoed through the cold corridor. Two guards, faces set in unforgiving stone, shoved him roughly to his feet. Their grip was merciless, dragging him forward despite the protests of his aching body. Each breath was a sharp stab of pain, his cracked ribs protesting violently. Resistance was futile.
At the end of the hall stood Kaelith, tall and imposing, his cold eyes locking onto Seo-Yun's with a fierce intensity. Without a word, Kaelith signaled the guards to drag Seo-Yun into the training chamber—a place where obedience was forged in pain and submission.
The chamber smelled of sweat, blood, and rusted metal. The walls were lined with iron shackles and chains, relics of countless broken souls before Seo-Yun. The floor was cold stone, rough against his bare feet, chilling him to the bone.
"You will learn to obey," Kaelith's voice was low, a sharp blade cutting through the silence. "No hesitation. No mercy. Failure will bring you more pain than you have ever known."
Seo-Yun swallowed hard, the lump in his throat almost choking him. The collar pulsed faintly against his skin—a cruel reminder that any spark of defiance would be punished instantly. It was not just a physical restraint but a mental weapon, designed to crush his spirit.
The commands came fast and relentless: "Sit!" "Stand!" "Kneel!" Each order was expected to be obeyed immediately and perfectly. Even a moment's hesitation was met with swift and brutal punishment—a whip cracking through the air, slicing into his flesh; a boot driving hard into his ribs; a fist striking with merciless force.
Pain exploded throughout his body, relentless and unyielding. Bruises blossomed like dark flowers across his skin, ribs throbbed with every breath, and sweat mingled with tears as he forced himself to obey.
The collar flared each time his pulse quickened, sending sharp jolts of pain that burned deep into his throat. It was their constant reminder: resistance meant agony.
Hours passed in a blur of commands and punishment. Exhaustion crept in, clouding his vision and numbing his senses. His limbs shook uncontrollably, his body screaming for rest that never came.
Yet beneath the bruises and broken flesh, Seo-Yun's spirit burned stubbornly. He refused to give them the satisfaction of his total surrender.
When night fell, and he was thrown back into his cell, Seo-Yun curled into himself on the cold stone floor. Silent tears traced paths down his battered cheeks, but he hid them from the world—no one would see his weakness.
One evening, as he lay broken and barely able to move, Kaelith entered without warning. His eyes held a cold, unreadable expression as he knelt beside Seo-Yun.
"You survive," Kaelith whispered, voice calm but filled with iron resolve, "because you obey. Because you serve a purpose."
Seo-Yun met his gaze, fierce despite the pain, searching for mercy that would never come.
Kaelith's hand pressed down heavily on his shoulder—a silent claim, a reminder that Seo-Yun belonged to them.
The message was clear: Seo-Yun was broken, but not defeated. His body was theirs, and his will was the prize they sought to claim.
Yet beneath the scars and bruises, a fragile ember of hope remained—an unyielding promise to himself that no matter the cruelty, he would fight to keep the smallest part of himself free.