Aiden forced himself to close his eyes and breathe steadily to suppress the sharp pain in his ribs.
Memory is cruel. Whenever he closes his eyes, it comes back - not to comfort him, but to mock him.
He saw the fire.
His village was ablaze, and his sister, screaming, was dragged into the darkness, her hair also ablaze. As the soldiers slaughtered his parents in front of him, their eyes were filled with wild laughter.
He was powerless. He was unable to protect, unable to retaliate, and even unable to die with dignity.
He remembered lifting a stone with his trembling hands and throwing it at an armored soldier. The stone hit the man's shoulder - a harmless and pitiful strike. The soldier laughed, then knocked Aiden to the ground until he could no longer stand.
At that moment, the chains wrapped around him for the first time.
It's not the chains in the prison cell, but the invisible chains of despair. These chains whisper: You will never be free. You will never rise. You were born to kneel.
Aiden had long believed in this. He bowed his head, stifling his anger, and scraped out a living on scraps. Day after day, year after year, he was just a nameless slave, clinging to life merely because death had not yet come.
But now, under the shackles of darkness, a different kind of flame is stirring.
At first, it was just a whisper, not from the outside world, but from within.
Do you still want to live?
The voice was neither male nor female, neither merciful nor cruel. It seemed as if the dungeon itself was speaking, penetrating through the rocks and chains, reaching straight to his soul.
Aiden abruptly opened his eyes. He violently struggled free, causing the chains to creak. "Who's there?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible.
No one answered. The torch at the end of the corridor flickered briefly before going out.
He pricked up his ears, but all he heard was the sound of water dripping slowly from the ceiling.
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Do you still want to live?
This time, the whisper reached his mind. It was cold and firm.
Aiden's heart was pounding wildly. Had he gone mad? Had hunger, beatings, and endless torture finally destroyed his sanity?
But something deep within him told him otherwise. This wasn't madness. This was... opportunity.
His lips were chapped and he replied in a low voice, "Yes."
The sound faded into silence.
For a long time, only the chains spoke, emitting a faint jingling sound with every trembling breath. And then—
Then you must break free from the chains.
His name stirred up a series of memories.
Not long ago, he resided in a small village near the valley plain. Although life was tough, it was his life.
He once ran barefoot on muddy fields, wrestled with his friends in tall grass, and laughed until his stomach hurt.
At dusk, his mother would greet him with a warm yet weary smile. His father's rough hands would ruffle his hair, emitting the scent of sweat and earth.
That life ended in fire.
He remembered it all too well: the night sky torn apart by scarlet flames, the screams drowning out the crackling of the dying fire. The bandits had come, wearing iron masks and cloaking themselves in cruelty. They slaughtered, plundered, and chained the survivors.
Aiden tried to resist. With only a broken hoe, he swung it at one of them. The blow hit them, causing blood to flow. In that instant, he felt a surge of pride.
At that moment, the man's cold and piercing laughter pierced his ears. A powerful punch sent him crashing to the ground. The hoe shattered. His world fell apart.
Dragged, beaten, and bound, he and the others were herded like livestock through endless paths until they arrived at this place: the dungeons beneath the black fortress.
Here, the screams never cease. Here, names are stripped away, and hope becomes a crime.
clink glasses.
As he moved, the chains rattled again, causing his wrists to ache and burn. He tried hundreds of times. The chains were deeply embedded in his flesh, but the lock remained firmly fastened.
Aiden closed his eyes. He hated himself for being so weak and helpless. But most importantly... he hated this world that allowed all this to happen.
They call it fate. Priests who follow various major sects discuss fate as if it were scripture. "The strong become kings, the weak become slaves. This is the natural order of the universe."
Not long ago, he heard a supervisor in a long robe whisper these words, which were like poison to the captives. Many of them bowed their heads in despair and accepted their fate of being chained.
But Aiden clenched his teeth tightly until his mouth was filled with fresh blood.
If this is fate, he thought bitterly, then fate is my enemy.
He opened his eyes, and for the first time, a faint light flashed across the depths of his eyes, like a struggle between starlight and shadow.
Then came a murmur.
It was so soft that he almost thought he had imagined it.
Do you want to break free from the chains?