Liam awakened in a dim, dark environment, groggy and confused. His face and abdomen hurt, but even those sensations were faint, as if radiating from the other side of a muffling barrier.
Complete awareness never arrived, but a few sparse, often incoherent thoughts eventually formed in Liam's brain. Memories from the battle in the forest returned, only for something else to catch his attention.
Initially, Liam had thought he had just woken up, but that had turned out to be wrong. After all, he was currently standing and didn't remember doing that.
'What is happening?' Liam wondered, having to concentrate for that question to cross his grogginess.
The struggle to think awakened Liam a little more, allowing a proper inspection of himself and his surroundings, uncovering additional confusing details.
Liam's ragged robe was no more. Instead, he was donning a tight black robe no different from what the assailants in the forest had worn. He was also wielding a simple knife in his right hand, which felt wrong since he was a lefty.
Moreover, Liam couldn't find his trusty bow, butcher knife, and quiver anywhere, but realizing that he wasn't alone distracted him from that issue. Twenty or so kids donning identical attire and weapons surrounded him, their dazed expressions displaying a more intense confusion than what was afflicting him.
Liam barely had time to recognize the two kids from his village before gaining a complete understanding of the environment. He was in a rectangular chamber encircled by smooth, dark surfaces. Two braziers stood on the wall in front of him, blue fire flickering inside them, illuminating three peculiar figures.
Two cloaked figures stood beside a third, the latter wearing a white mask on his face instead of black cloth. The item was expressionless, only featuring two sharp holes for eyes, which were enough to convey the cold, chilling gaze behind it.
"Rejoice, young seeds," The white-masked man announced while Liam was still busy in his inspection, his voice calm but stern. "You have been granted the opportunity to be reborn as weapons of the Divine Cult."
For some reason, Liam felt the urge to smile. Something inside him was compelling him to muster that expression, but his partial awareness allowed him to suppress it.
The same didn't go for the other kids. Smiles broadened all around Liam, as if the entire crowd was under hypnosis, but the worst had yet to come.
"But," The white-masked man continued, "This cell only has enough resources for ten seeds, so kill each other until there's only ten of you left."
Another urge rose through Liam, but he could experience it more clearly now. That drive felt foreign, coming from the confusion and muffled barrier that afflicted him, prompting his body to follow that order.
Naturally, Liam fought against the urge, but he was alone in that struggle. The other kids immediately got on the move, snapping at their nearest opponent to slash their knives at them, and Liam wasn't exempt from such assaults.
A kid to Liam's right charged at him, wielding his knife with both hands, wanting to thrust it at his abdomen. Yet, Liam's reflexes were too good to be caught by surprise, but his attempt to dodge the attack led to surprising results.
Liam urged his body to move through his partial awareness, which conflicted with the orders from the foreign confusion. He had planned to step back, only to stumble.
Liam's eyes went wide when his butt hit the floor, but his shock was short-lived. Falling had made him dodge the incoming attack, but the kid had already launched another, throwing himself toward him.
Usually, Liam would have been quick enough to roll away, but his body opposed the idea of dodging. The foreign confusion wanted him to attack, and the dangerous situation forced him to follow it.
The kid had thrust his knife downward, putting his entire weight behind the attack. However, Liam's left hand promptly snapped up and grabbed one of the descending wrists, stopping them before the blade could reach his chest.
As strong as Liam was, he couldn't lift a young man with a single arm, but didn't need to. His right leg shot up, delivering a violent kick to his attacker's abdomen, sending him flying by a whole meter.
Liam jumped to his feet as soon as he was free, instinctively throwing his knife in his left hand, only for a new shock to arrive.
Chaos had exploded during that short exchange. Fights were happening everywhere, with all the kids recklessly slashing and thrusting their knives at each other. They seemed to have lost any sense of self-preservation, and the event had already exacted casualties.
Despite the surrounding mess, Liam only needed a second to spot the corpse of a kid lying on the floor, a pool of blood expanding under him, while the others uncaringly stepped over him.
Something in Liam's mind snapped at that sight. His right forearm began to itch as an urge stronger than both his partial awareness and foreign confusion took over him.
A whistling noise rang to Liam's left, but he calmly side-stepped it, ignoring the knife slashing at the spot he had previously occupied while lifting his blade toward its source.
A warm, wet sensation immediately spread on Liam's left hand, claiming his gaze. Another kid had attacked him, but his knife had stabbed her throat, and he watched as life abandoned her green eyes.
Liam's cold black eyes spotted something else a few meters behind the dying girl. He recognized one of the boys from his village fighting against another kid, and something clicked in his mind, delivering a human hiss to his ears.
'Kill him!' The hiss ordered, and Liam promptly complied, withdrawing his knife before darting ahead.
And Liam blacked out, but only for an instant. He only recalled the beginning of his charge, but he was now kneeling over the kid from Krosstoen village, his knife stabbed deeply at the center of his chest.
The scene snapped Liam awake. His hatred remained, but awareness joined it. He didn't feel the foreign confusion anymore, and his brain quickly caught up with his recent, terrible actions.
Still, before despair could surge, Liam's nape tingled, and his hatred exploded once more, making him launch a primal cry as he pulled the knife out of the boy's chest and slashed it behind him.
Nevertheless, a firm, unmovable hand caught Liam's wrist, interrupting his attack. His breath was ragged as he lifted his furious gaze, pointing it at the white mask of the man towering above him.
"This one has a high tolerance to the drug," The white-masked man announced. "Increase the dose."
Liam barely cared for those words. His furious mind worked quickly, pinning the blame for everything that had unfolded on that white-masked man.
So, Liam threw another feral cry, standing up to lunge his free hand at that cloaked figure, only for his mind to go dark before his punch could get close to him.