Helmo writhed in agony, his body temperature soaring to a fever pitch. Beside him, Haim watched in helpless torment, his heart breaking with every scream.
Inside Helmo's body, the red nuclei within the first vessel vanished in an instant. The vein stretched taut, vibrating with energy until it snapped like a violin string, releasing a sharp, melodic chime:
*Tringgg!*
The first vessel ruptured. A psychic wave slammed into Helmo's brain, causing a momentary flash of blinding pain that quickly subsided, carrying away the bone-deep ache that had plagued him since the injection.
The screaming stopped. Helmo's eyes flew open, though the world around him spun in a dizzying blur.
"Helmo! Helmo, can you hear me?" Haim rushed to his son's side, kneeling in the dirt. Sweat drenched the father's face as if he were the one who had undergone the ordeal. "Are you alright, my son?" his voice trembled.
Helmo didn't respond immediately; his mind was a chaotic storm of new sensations.
"Don't worry," Yuray interjected calmly. "The pain has passed. He just needs a moment to find his feet."
Slowly, the haze in Helmo's vision cleared. He reached for his father's hand to stand, but his legs buckled, and he sank back to the ground. The vertigo was still heavy.
"I'm... I'm okay," Helmo whispered, his voice raspy. "Don't worry, Father."
Haim brushed the dust from the boy's clothes and hair, his eyes misty. "You'll be fine, my boy. You'll be fine."
Yousafer leaned against a nearby post, his eyes shifting to the Village Chief. "Do you have any other volunteers, old man?"
The Chief hesitated. "I don't know if anyone else would crave this life. The power is great, but the cost... it's enough to make any sane man turn away."
"I want it," a small voice rang out from behind the Chief.
It was one of the orphans the Chief had taken in—the same boy who had run to fetch Helmo. He stepped forward, his small frame trembling but his eyes burning with resolve.
"You are still a child, my boy," the Chief said softly.
"Grandfather," the boy replied, his voice sounding far older than his ten years, "I don't want to lose anything ever again. I want to be strong."
A second child stepped forward. "Me too."
The Chief was stunned. Yousafer and Yuray, however, shared a knowing smile. Haim watched them, recognizing the same desperate fire that had consumed his own son.
"What is your decision, old man?" Yousafer asked.
Sweat beaded on the Chief's brow. This wasn't a decision to be made lightly. These children were barely ten years old. But Yuray spoke up, his voice tinged with a rare shadow of his past: "I was younger than them when I was injected."
"And I," Yousafer added, "was so young I don't even remember the needle."
The Chief looked at the children. He was their protector, and if they failed the transition, the guilt would haunt him to his grave. But he was old, and they were entering a world of wolves. If he died, who would shield them? He looked into their eyes and saw not children, but survivors.
He nodded.
The two boys stepped forward. Each took a syringe, and following the grim example Helmo had set, they injected themselves.
By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, Helmo was finally standing on his own, a faint smile playing on his lips as he looked at Yousafer and Yuray. "Finally... I've entered the world you inhabit."
Yousafer's expression morphed into something theatrical and strange. He pursed his lips upward, his brows arching as his eyes widened. He set the empty box on the grass and threw his arms wide. "Welcome," he proclaimed in a voice brimming with dark theatricality, "to the world of madness!"
Helmo chuckled weakly, leaning on his father for support. "One day, I'll stand right beside you. Make sure you don't go and die before then."
Yousafer tilted his chin up, his dark eyes flashing with a mix of pride and mockery. A sharp, singular-sided smile crept across his face as he tilted his head back, radiating an aura of supreme arrogance.
"No one in this world is capable of killing me," he declared, "except myself."
The others looked away, pretending not to see his dramatic flair—especially Yuray, who had long since grown accustomed to Yousafer's eccentricities.
The two younger boys were taken into a tent to rest and recover from the initial shock. The Chief turned to the two youths. "The Germs those children took... do you think they are safe? Powerful?"
Yousafer rubbed his chin. "Since they came from that old man, Adelaide, they are bound to be formidable."
"Indeed," Yuray agreed. "The old man was an enigma. He spoke as if all the world's knowledge was gathered in his mind. He wouldn't carry those Germs for no reason."
"Though for all his knowledge," Yousafer added, "he kept many secrets from us."
"Why didn't he tell you how to ascend the levels?" the Chief asked.
Yousafer scoffed. "Where is the fun in being told? Even if he wanted to, I wouldn't have listened."
The Chief stared at him, bewildered. "You're a strange one," he muttered, then turned back to Helmo. "Do you feel any different? Inside?"
Helmo tested his grip, leaning on Haim's shoulder. "No. I feel the same as I did before I became a... a Possessed. Aside from being able to see those vessels whenever I want, and a certain... hum of energy in my blood, there's nothing new."
Yousafer's eyes sharpened. "Helmo, what is your ability?"
Everyone leaned in, their breath held. Helmo closed his eyes, recalling the flood of memories and instincts that had crashed into his mind when the vessel snapped. After a long moment, he spoke.
"I think my ability is..."
**End of Chapter**