After the events of the previous day, the twenty newcomers were lined up silently in the main hall. The air smelled of iron and mold, as if the place itself warned them there was no way out. The director was not present, but supervisors Ereon and Telvaris watched them with predator eyes. To them, these were not children: they were pieces. Some would be molded. Others discarded.
No one had explained what would happen. The young ones barely knew the corridors where they were now trapped. The silence was broken only by the nervous breathing of the novices.
"Welcome," said the leader of Unit Omega, with a crooked smile. But everyone understood: it was not a welcome, it was a threat. He took a few steps forward, dragging his voice like a blade over stone. The entire hall shrank before him.
"There are no names here—only numbers. And each of you will learn to carry the weight that this means.
His eyes swept over the twenty newcomers like one choosing cattle for slaughter.
"The strong command, the weak obey… or die. Expect no mercy. If you do not serve, you will be discarded."
A heavy silence fell, interrupted only by the distant sound of wind entering through the cracks.
"The word of a supervisor is worth more than your life. Question it, and see what happens."
He paused, letting the tension boil, before raising his finger toward the large iron bell suspended above the hall.
"When you hear the bell, you will run. You will eat. You will fight. You will sleep. You will live and bleed according to your calling. Here, the bell decides when you breathe."
A cruel, crooked smile appeared on his lips.
"Remember this: the Mountain awaits. And the Mountain does not forgive. Whoever does not climb… does not return."
"Now, listen…," the supervisor began, his voice full of authority and disdain, "you have twenty days, starting now. After this period, you will enter the Mountain."
"Remember: you will have to fight for your lives. You will be hunted. Along the way, you will face veterans who will seek to surround any intern daring to ascend. Those who reach the top of the Mountain will earn the right to receive a name and will be seen as human."
"From this moment, I warn you: besides those already at the orphanage before you, the one who will hunt you is the supervisor of Unit Alpha."
Everyone there knew, even in silence, that after these twenty days, many would not see the light of a new dawn.
At six o'clock, the bell rang twice. The children were led to the yard for the first physical training: running, push-ups, endurance. The air still carried the cold of the harsh reality they would have to face from then on, but none dared complain.
As they walked to the yard, Telvaris approached Ereon, who remained standing, with an empty gaze, and spoke:
"Phoebrus is no longer here to defend you," said Telvaris, his voice cutting. "As soon as the director returns, you, as supervisor of this trial, will enter the Mountain. I hope you are prepared, for I have already made all the preparations to ensure you do not return."
Without hearing a response, Telvaris clicked his tongue and withdrew. Ereon continued toward the yard.
The cold still bit at the novices' skin as they arrived. The hard ground reflected the gray sky, and the wind carried the metallic smell of ancient weapons scattered along the walls. The veterans waited in line, muscles tense, eyes alert—predators watching for any sign of weakness.
Ereon had disappeared moments ago, but his presence seemed to hover over the group, a silent reminder of what would happen to anyone daring to fail. Telvaris stood in front of the twenty novices, observing every movement. Every heavy breath was measured, every glance recorded.
"Run!" ordered Telvaris, his voice low, firm, and without a trace of compassion.
The first group of novices moved into long runs around the yard, while veterans circulated, pushing, testing limits, forcing falls, making each orphan get up faster than they thought possible. Push-ups followed, counted by Telvaris' dry shouts, stopping anyone who dared slow down.
The bell rang once, shrill, cutting through the air. Each orphan felt the weight of the toll reverberate in their chest. It was the call to intensify effort—no excuses, no forgiveness.
"Faster!" shouted a veteran, advancing on a novice barely managing the push-ups. "Get up! Show that you will not be discarded!"
The novices struggled to keep up, but exhaustion came quickly. Some tripped, others choked on their breathing, and Telvaris watched as if calculating who would survive the Mountain.
"Remember," he said, walking among them, looking each in the eye, "every step, every breath you take here will be demanded again on the Mountain. What fails here… will not survive there."
The second bell rang, and with it came the next phase: endurance. Weights, improvised climbs, strength and coordination exercises. Veterans attacked with subtle pushes and blows, measuring reflexes and courage. Some novices fell, but were forced to rise again.
And so the morning continued: training after training, bell after bell, each toll reminding that time was measured by the orphanage, not by them. Every fall, every weakness was recorded, every effort observed.
By the end, as the bell rang a third time, marking the passage to rest, the twenty newcomers were exhausted, body and mind pushed beyond what they had imagined. Many already realized that the Mountain would not be just a physical challenge, but a trial of the very will to live.
And above all, everyone knew, even without hearing, that Ereon and Telvaris were watching. The smallest mistake could cost a life—here and on the Mountain that awaited them.
The leader of Unit Omega approached those resting and spoke—not just for himself, but representing the entire orphanage structure. Every supervisor had a role, and the novices would soon learn what that meant.
"Listen well," he said, his voice as firm as steel. "Here, you will be divided under three banners."
He raised three fingers, one by one, and the tension in the yard grew.
"First, Unit Omega is mine. We forge you in fire. Teaching, tactics, combat training… and endurance of pain. If you cannot endure, you fall."
"Second, Unit Alpha is the shadow that cuts throats. You will become assassins. Swift, clean actions, without witnesses. When called, do not think: execute."
"Third, Unit Beta is the silence within the walls. Spies, infiltrators, hunters of secrets. You will learn to see without being seen, to gather information even the dead would not dare keep."
The words fell like chains on the shoulders of the two hundred orphans in the yard. There was no choice, no escape. Each would be molded, marked, and used until nothing remained but what the supervisors desired.
On the 18th day of the 11th month of 2033—exactly a week after the training began—the return of Director Teseu Blackthorn was announced. The massive gates opened again with a metallic creak, echoing through the yard. At noon, four tolls called everyone to lunch—a quick and silent meal. But the director's return overrode any rules.
Instead of heading to the cafeteria, the two hundred orphans remained in formation, as did the two supervisors, standing in the center of the yard, while the rest formed a line extending from the gates to the orphanage's main doors. The director and his entourage walked in silence, and no sound dared break the heavy air.
Upon reaching the supervisors, they made way, allowing the director to proceed. With firm steps, Teseu stopped in front of the main door and said: "Dismissed. You may proceed to the cafeteria."
Alpha and Omega followed him, the veterans dispersed through the cold, silent corridors. The other two continued following the director until he stopped again.
"Omega," he ordered.
Telvaris began the report: "As you know, sir, we currently have two hundred orphans. One hundred and eighty are ready to be sent to the Mountain. However, the twenty newcomers are not yet prepared…"
Teseu interrupted: "All two hundred will participate."
Telvaris felt surprised by the statement. Since arriving at the orphanage, he had never seen newcomers sent to the Mountain before completing their first mission. He recalled two youths who climbed the Mountain and returned as supervisors; since then, no one had been officially sent. He looked at Ereon with reservation and continued:
"Then, with that, I conclude my report. Everything has been maintained according to strict laws."
The corridor they walked through was long and narrow, like a freezing tunnel. The gray, smooth walls seemed to absorb any trace of heat, reflecting only the faint glow of fluorescent lights attached to the ceiling. The light was cold, almost bluish, flickering from time to time, casting dancing shadows in the corners. The air was heavy, still, laden with suffocating silence. Every step echoed dry and metallic, increasing the sense of emptiness and loneliness.
At the end of the corridor, the office door was thick, austere, and unadorned. Painted in matte gray and reinforced with metal plates, it conveyed the idea of guarding something important—or forbidden.
Upon entering the office, the oppressive silence gave way to discipline and order. The place had a strict military style: bare concrete walls, functional furniture, a large iron desk with a dark wooden top covered in maps, reports, and communication radios. Behind it, a steel shelf held numbered folders and confidential files. Military flags and a framed display of insignias completed the official atmosphere. The air smelled of iron, paper, and old coffee. Nothing there was superfluous.
Teseu sat in his chair while the two remained silently before him. Telvaris broke the silence: "Sir, I am not questioning your orders, but I would like to know: why send all two hundred to the Mountain? What happened in the County?" His expression was cold but revealed slight concern.
Teseu replied: "Upon arriving at the mansion during these past seven days, the Count was absent." He looked at Ereon, who remained completely silent. "Two days ago, I received a message from Phoebrus. He reported that all nobles of Tupania, as well as the three kings, were not in their territories. This is not a good sign." His gray-silver eyes fixed on the two as he lit his cigar.
Ereon responded in a low voice: "It means the hunt has begun."
The atmosphere grew even darker, with the smoke from Teseu's cigar mingling with the heavy air. The director looked at Telvaris: "We will activate Code Delta. Notify everyone, both the old and the newcomers. Go now."
"Yes, sir," Telvaris replied.
Teseu added: "As soon as you descend from the Mountain, you will be sent to the County. Phoebrus will maintain his position, as I ordered."
"I will send him to a location where he is usually seen, according to the previous report from Unit Beta. As soon as the opportunity arises, eliminate him."
Ereon turned to leave, but before crossing the door, he asked: "And Telvaris?"
Silence answered for him. Ereon immediately withdrew.
On the morning of the first day of the twelfth month of 2033, the hunt on the Mountain began—and no one would come out of it unscathed