Chapter Four: Designed to Fail

  Golden streaks of light fell through the square-shaped window as translucent curtains swayed in the morning breeze, which slipped through the slightly cracked glass.

  The light landed on Nikolai’s face. His eyes fluttered open, and the faint flicker of the cameras immediately caught his gaze. He exhaled deeply and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.

  I should get ready, Nikolai thought, as he headed for the bathroom.

  Cold water splashed against his face, sharp enough to chase away the lingering fog of sleep. He gripped the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection. You’re not crazy. You’re gonna prove it. He steadied his breath.

  He stepped back into the bedchamber, his gaze fixed on the training uniform Elias had left for him—seaweed-green fabric consisting of a matching button-up shirt and trousers. He lifted the garment, inspecting the material warily. It doesn’t seem bugged… he thought, running a hand over his face.

  He stripped and changed into the uniform, buttoning the shirt to the collar and tucking it neatly into his trousers. Studying himself in the wardrobe mirror, he noted how perfectly the uniform fit—light, breathable, and almost too precise. He clipped the Omni-link onto his wrist and slipped his feet into a pair of tawny boots. As he tied the black laces, his glasses lay forgotten on the nightstand. He swiped the Omni-link over the wall panel, and the door unlocked with a quiet click.

  ***

  Nikolai approached the training grounds, the bright sun hitting his eyes like a warning. He took in the layout, noting the three distinct sections.

  On the left was the workouts space, with equipment arranged neatly and a pull-up bar near the back. On the right stood a gauntlet designed for swordplay and weaponry, where wooden dummies lined the rear wall. The center area remained open for sparring.

  His boots scraped lightly against the sand-colored floor. The others were already there, preforming pull-ups in the left section, dressed in the same seaweed-green attire. Elias, draped entirely in black, stood nearby with a hilt strapped to his hip, coaching them.

  “You’re late, Nikolai,” Elias remarked, not even deigning to look at him.

  Nikolai shrugged, crossing his arms. “I can tell, Smart-ass,” he scowled, sarcasm lacing his voice.

  Elias grinned. “You’ve got quite the tongue, don’t you, Nikolai?” Elias said pleasantly, though his eyes remained frozen.

  Those eyes are damn creepy. Nikolai averted his gaze, jaw tight.

  “Well then, you should get to it,” Elias added, gesturing toward the bar.

  Nikolai stepped tentatively into the space, loath to take his place beside the others. His hands tightened around the cold metal as he began, his shoulders bunched with tension.

  ***

  “Gray, could you retrieve the Prism Shards from the Weaponry Artillery for me?” Elias asked, his voice deceptively gentle.

  “Of course, Mr. Elias!” Julian grinned, heading back toward the facility.

  Nikolai slouched against the wall, breathing hard, his muscles screaming. I swear he’s doing this on purpose. He grasped the water bottle firmly and ran a hand through his dark locks.

  ‘C’mon, Nikolai, one more set.’ Elias’s earlier words echoed mockingly in his mind.

  “It’s like he’s targeting me,” Nikolai muttered. He glanced up, catching Elias watching him with a knowing look.

  Julian returned to the grounds, a black duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “Mr. Elias, I got the Prism Shards!” he wheezed, jogging toward them.

  Elias took the bag from him. “Thank you, Gray,” Elias said with a smile.

  Julian beamed, while Nikolai merely rolled his eyes.

  “My dear, set up the dummies, would you?” Elias glanced toward Odette.

  “On it, sir,” she replied, already moving.

  Elias sat in a chair and unzipped the duffle bag. Sunlight caught the hilts of the Prism Shards, their surfaces shimmering faintly.

  “Oh—can I have that one, Mr. Elias?” Julian asked, pointing to a white-and-blue hilt near the bottom.

  Elias didn’t hesitate. “Of course, Gray.”

  He handed it over, and the younger children took matching white hilts. Odette picked up a silver-and-pale violet hilt.

  “This—this is beautiful,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on the intricate design.

  “Like you…” Julian whispered, barely audible.

  “Huh?” Odette glanced at him.

  “I said nothing!” Julian blurted out, his tone defensive as he avoided her hazel eyes, heat creeping up his neck.

  “It matches you, my dear,” Elias said, a gentle smile crossing his face.

  Nikolai stood with a wince, his muscles aching as he approached Elias. “What about me?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Elias glanced at the last item in the bag. “Oh, Nikolai…I suppose you can take the remaining one,” he said, handing him a plain black hilt.

  “Hah,” Julian scoffed. “How boring. Just plain old black—for plain old Nikolai.”

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  Nikolai’s eyes twitched. Don’t murder him. Don’t murder him. Don’t murder him. he repeated the mantra in his head, his jaw clenched so tight he feared a tooth might crack.

  “Shut up, Julian,” he murmured through gritted teeth, his hands balling into fists.

  “And what if I don’t want to?” Julian smirked.

  Nikolai exhaled slowly and turned away, forcing himself to retreat. It doesn’t matter. He won’t listen anyway. He focused on his breathing—slow and steady.

  “What’s up with him?” Julian frowned, watching Nikolai’s retreating figure.

  ***

  Blades clashed against the wooden dummies. The scent of cold metal and sweat filled the air, each strike echoing with a sharp thwack. Odette struck her target with focused precision, her swings controlled. Julian’s movements were confident and effortless. Nikolai, however, was gasping for air, his muscles still seized from the earlier exertion.

  My arms feel like they’re gonna fall off. A wave of dizziness hit him, and his blade stopped mid-swing. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, each breath suddenly sharp and agonizing.

  “Having issues, Nikolai?” Elias’s calm voice snapped him out of his daze.

  Nikolai felt his pulse skyrocket. Speak of the devil. His throat felt parched. “Hm?” Elias hummed, tilting his head slightly.

  Nikolai found his voice, though it felt like sandpaper. “N-no not at all—just tired,” he stammered.

  “Nikolai—are you alright?!” Odette dropped her Prism Shard as she rushed to his side.

  “I’m fine,” Nikolai grumbled.

  “Seriously, man, are you alright?” Julian asked, concern replacing his smirk as he stepped toward them.

  Nikolai shoved Julian’s hand away when he offered it. “I don’t need your pity.”

  “You needn’t worry, my dear,” Elias said smoothly. “Nikolai must have collapsed from exhaustion. Though, he did the same warm-ups as the rest of you, perhaps he simply isn’t cut out for this level of training.” A predatory smile spread across his face.

  You dirty bastard… Nikolai’s nails dug into his palms.

  Elias stepped closer, near enough that Nikolai caught the metallic scent of him. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

  No way in hell am I letting that bastard touch me, Nikolai thought, scrambling aside.

  Elias’s hand went to the hilt at his hip, and he began a demonstration with practiced, lethal ease. Nikolai watched with his arms crossed.

  “See, Nikolai? it isn’t so hard now, is it?”

  Nikolai gripped his hilt tighter, nodding stiffly. “Understood,” he said through a muffled jaw.

  “Good. Now get back to it,” Elias said, placing a hand on Nikolai’s shoulder. His nails digging into the boy’s skin.

  Nikolai swatted the hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed, low enough only for Elias to hear.

  Elias didn’t flinch. “Very well then,” he whispered, his smile slipping for a second before snapping back into its deceptive mask.

  ***

  Yellow and purple hues bled across the sky as the sun sank low on the horizon. Golden light spilled through the large dining room window, bathing the area in warm, long streaks. Elias sat at the head of the long table with Julian and the others gathered near him. Nikolai sat alone at the far end.

  The table was draped in red velvet with gold trim, illuminated by a golden chandelier. In front of each of them sat matching plates and carefully arranged silverware. Nikolai glared at his plate, his appetite nonexistent.

  The server—a young woman in a black dress with a button-down dress shirt and apron—stepped forward. The heels of her flats clicked rhythmically against the ceramic floor. Her black hair was pulled into a severe bun, and her ink-drop irises seemed vacant. She laid out the first course: roast duck with chopped potatoes, white rice, and steamed vegetables. She uncorked a bottle of red wine for Elias before bowing her head and exiting, the large doors closing with a heavy thud.

  Nikolai narrowed his eyes. How dare he humiliate me?

  Elias smirked from across the table, sipping his wine. Nikolai’s cheeks burned with shame; he kept his eyes fixed on his lap. As the others began to eat, the only sound was the clattering silverware against porcelain.

  Odette glanced at Nikolai’s untouched plate, her brows furrowing. “Nikolai, why aren't you eating?”

  “Not hungry,” Nikolai replied flatly.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. Nikolai is likely shaken from today’s training. Perhaps his stature isn’t suited to handle the strain,” Elias explained, his smirk widening.

  Nikolai bit his tongue, his fists clenched so hard that blood began to seep from his palms, the metallic scent filling his nose.

  “What’s the matter, Nikolai—cat got your tongue?” Mockery gleamed in Elias’s cold eyes.

  Nikolai remained silent for a heartbeat before shooting to his feet. He turned for the exit, blood dripping from his hands and staining the white ceramic floor.

  “N—Nikolai—“ Odette gasped, her words catching in her throat.

  “Nikolai, where are you going?” Julian asked, his usual grin replaced by a worried frown.

  “None of your damn business,” Nikolai muttered.

  “You’ve been acting really weird lately. What’s up, man?” Julian persisted. “C’mon, tell us what’s bothering you—we care about—“

  “I SAID IT WAS NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!” Nikolai snapped, his voice exploding through the room.

  Julian froze.

  “NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!”

  Julian’s breath hitched.

  He’s never been this mad before. He thought, his shoulders slumping as he bit his lower lip.

  Nikolai stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a bang that echoed long after he was gone.