Rise of the White Devil

"You damn brat!"

The sound of the slap echoed through the dimly lit dining room.

The room was small and cramped, with peeling wallpaper and a flickering light bulb that cast a dim glow.

The wooden table was old and scratched, and the mismatched chairs creaked under the children's weight.

The floor was bare, worn-down wood, and a single, cracked window let in a draft, making the room chilly.

Noah placed his hand on his swollen right cheek where the caretaker had slapped him. The sting was still fresh, and his skin throbbed under his touch.

The children at the table dared not lift their heads, silently nibbling on their single piece of bread with trembling hands.

"How ungrateful can one really be, huh?" the caretaker shrieked at Noah.

She kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling.

He clutched his stomach in agony, already weakened from days without food.

His crime?

Daring to ask for bread. It had been three days since he had last eaten. Forced to sit with the others as they ate, he received nothing.

All because he had dared to complain about the lack of food for everyone.

He remembered a time before these new caretakers arrived when there was at least enough for everyone.

Now, these cruel overseers kept the food for themselves, tossing only scraps to the orphans.

Tears streamed down his face as he bit his lip, stifling his sobs.

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"This is why your parents abandoned you in the first place."

"They never loved you."

"Who would?"

"Seeing the ungrateful brat they brought into this world, they decided to leave it, running far away from you."

Every word was a dagger to his heart, shattering it into thousands of pieces, only to rebuild and break again.

He was just a child, and their relentless words made him start to believe them.

Perhaps his parents did hate him, regretted having him, and took their own lives to escape him.

The room's gaze bore into him—pity, hate, anger, fear, and even twisted glee.

The shadows around him deepened and began to stir.

He glanced up to see the caretaker frozen, her eyes hollow and pitch black.

Before he could comprehend, every head in the room snapped towards him, making the hairs on his neck stand up.

Their eyes were all black, devoid of emotion, fixated on Noah.

In the blink of an eye, he was alone. Darkness surrounded him, endless and suffocating.

'What...?' Confused, he heard an almost inaudible voice from all around.

"...up."

The whisper was indistinct, neither male nor female.

He looked up, seeing nothing but endless darkness.

His heart pounded.

He didn't understand what was happening.

"...up."

Again, nothing.

Only darkness surrounded him.

Ignoring the strange voice, he took a step forward.

"Ah!" As he did, it felt like he was falling into the abyss.

His senses were confused, unable to discern if he was falling or standing still.

In the next blink, he found himself in an unfamiliar, massive backyard—the backyard of the Nightstar estates.

'Where am I?' Noah wondered, walking further.

He saw a mist ahead and stepped inside.

As it dissipated... Read latest stories on empire

He vomited at the sight revealed.

Before him stood three wooden crosses with bodies crucified on them.

To the left was a child with snow-white hair, her eyes empty as crows pecked at her sockets.

Her stomach was ripped open, her organs dangling out.

"A-ah, what is this... what is happening?" He didn't know them, yet it felt like he did.

He felt he had known and cared for them deeply.

His heart shattered at the sight, and he vomited again, falling to his knees.

As he retched, he weakly looked up to see the face of one of them inches from his own—the older woman with snow-white hair, her eyes empty, her face bloodied, her stomach a gaping wound.

Noah's mind went blank. He was paralyzed, unable to process the horror.

Suddenly, the woman's torn lips parted, and she screamed,n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"WAKE UP!"

With a jolt, Noah was back in the dining room, gasping for breath.

The children still ate silently, and the caretaker stood over him, her expression twisted with anger and disgust.

"Get up, you wretched boy!" she snarled, yanking him to his feet. The room seemed colder, the shadows longer and darker.

Noah's vision blurred with tears.

The other children avoided his gaze, their eyes downcast, hands shaking.

They knew better than to show any sympathy; it would only bring the caretaker's wrath upon them too.

As the caretaker dragged Noah out of the room, he caught sight of the reflection in a broken mirror on the wall. His face was pale, eyes hollow, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw those same pitch-black eyes staring back at him.

The door slammed shut behind him, and he was thrown into a small, dark closet. The only sound was his own ragged breathing and the faint, echoing whispers

"...wake up..."

He huddled in the corner, wrapping his arms around himself.

The darkness pressed in, suffocating and cold.

He didn't know how long he sat there, trembling and alone.

Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity.

"WAKE UP!

"Haa!"

Jolting awake, Lucas looked around to find himself inside his room again at the academy.

'What just happened...?'

His heart still pounded loudly against his chest, and his entire body was covered in cold sweat.

"Haa... Haa..."

He kept breathing heavily, trying to comprehend what happened until he finally calmed down a little.

"It wasn't real..." he muttered under his breath.

The strange dream was just a nightmare.

Yet, it felt so real.

He felt like he was actually Noah again, not remembering anything of his current life.

He clenched his loose hands into fists, making the knuckles go white to stop himself from trembling.

Looking next to him, he noticed Luna wasn't there, making him panic.

[Luna? Where are you?]

His mind still wasn't in the right state.

Not seeing Luna, who was next to him when he fell asleep, made him think that he was perhaps still in the nightmare.

Luckily, his thoughts were proven false.

[Father?]

Appearing from out of the door, Luna entered the room and jumped on the bed. Lucas sighed in relief at seeing her.

[Are you okay, Father?] she asked, noticing the state he was in.

He tried to reassure her, but she continued to look at him worriedly.

"How about you? You've been sleeping a lot lately," he said, attempting to change the subject and distract both her and himself.

[Mm, I feel tired a lot...]

"Are you getting bored? If you want, I can drop you off at home so you can have fun with Lena," he said, thinking that perhaps she was sleeping so much since she didn't have anyone to play with.

Lucas had been busy these last few days to the point he hadn't even gotten to enjoy his life at the academy or spend time with anyone, even Luna.

[No! It is not that.]

She raised her voice slightly, surprising Lucas as she shook her little head fast.

[It's not that I'm bored; I just feel tired easily but whenever I wake up again, I feel like I got... a little... stronger?]

She said this, not understanding herself what it exactly was.

Lucas narrowed his eyes as he thought about what made her so tired.

"Stronger, huh?" He pondered if it had something to do with dragons.

If it was, he knew he wouldn't be getting many answers currently.

'I should ask Nyx tomorrow,' he thought, remembering that he would meet him again tomorrow.

Perhaps Nyx knew more about dragons and could shed light on Luna's situation.

'I should also go to the library to find some clues about the void era,' Lucas thought, knowing that the Shield had one of the biggest libraries in Myrniel.

He was sure if he wanted to find clues to a lot of questions, he should first look there before anywhere else.

"Alright," he nodded to himself.

He stood up from his bed and looked at the mirror, seeing the messed-up state he was in.

'The library can wait.'

"Luna, let's go," he said suddenly, causing Luna to gaze at him bewilderedly as he picked her up firmly, not letting her go.

[Huh? Where are we going, Father?] She had a bad feeling about this as she felt like she couldn't escape Lucas's grip.

"To take a shower," he said, making Luna's eyes go wide in dread.

[Wait! No, Father, please! I don't need to shower. I am perfectly clean!] she screamed, flailing around yet not escaping his grip in the slightest.

In the end, Lucas didn't listen to her desperate pleas. Both needed a shower, and he wasn't going to give in to her cuteness this time.

'Sorry, my daughter...'

[Author's Note: Exams aren't done yet, though I have managed to survive most of them (except math...). I will be going back to uploading two chapters a day sometime between this and next week.]