’There’s an assassin after my head from the get go.’ He wanted to groan, but as a baby, Torq hadn’t developed the ans yet. He was able to sense the assassin thanks to his hunger. He wanted to eat!
And the stronger the prey was, the more his hunger could be satiated. Hence, every living being in his vicinity was his prey.
Prey! PREY!
’Urgh!’ He blinked a few tis, feeling his emotions slipping out of his control. Suddenly, it felt like his head was sinking into water, with him unable to surface.
The water was heavy, feeling like jelly as he sank within, helpless, steadily heading to his doom. And whenever he attempted to move towards the surface, the water turned rock solid, making it impossible to budge even a millitre upwards.
By now, barely a tenth of his head had sunk into the water and had stopped here. However, he felt this would only continue to worsen in the future.
His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish, and his soul...like it had aged.
The early consequences of his regression had struck him, as mories from when he lived as Boiboi played through his mind, attempting to influence his current life.
[Why is this Ewworm alive?]
[The bastard that stole my deity’s talent...die!]
[No one expects anyone from you...!]
It felt like he was chained to a chair on a theatre stage, with the audience seats backed to the brim like sardines. And they were all, without any breaks, oftentis shouting over each other, curses upon him.
One of them grabbed a rod from the seat and chucked it at Torq, hitting the face and breaking the nosebridge.
Blood dripped down his jaw as Torq reeled in pain, which is when one of the chains around his neck wound tighter, choking him. That was when another individual from the audience grabbed a rod, sharpened it violently against others rods, and chucked it straight at him
For a mont, he could observe the other party’s figure, which turned out to be Eureur. With an expression of utter revulsion, she chucked the sharpened rod at him. And then, he couldn’t see anything anymore, for the rod had pierced through his eyes.
Guaaaa!
MyuraBuntara was startled upon seeing the baby cry out in pain, the voice being as mournful as possible, "My son!"
"It’s alright, you’re safe, Mother’s here...there, there...good baby, go to sleep, my son..." She hurriedly began to hum a tune alongside the baby’s screams, in efforts to calm her child’s cries.
Her eyes grew red upon seeing her son struggle to breathe, as if suffering from torture. And then, when she noticed a thin streak of blood drip down the baby’s nose, she lost her composure, "DAD!"
"Do sothing!" She roared, causing the gruff man to spring to his feet and hurriedly inspect the baby, "T-There doesn’t seem to be any issues..."
"Then Summon the CHIEF!" MyuraBuntara roared, "He’ll be able to figure what’s happening to my son!"
WAAA!
"Do sothing!" She shrieked upon seeing the baby’s cries intensify.
[You’re not needed!]
[I’ll make you suffer, Brat! Until you don’t dare regress anymore!]
[Sumatra’s Blessed? More like its curse! You wasted a life already! You can’t change a thing!]
[Give up, my Blessed! You’re not suited to wield this power. Inala would have been my ideal choice, if only you never existed...!]
GRAH!
Torq found himself back at the sa theatre, this ti being plunged into a glass container filled with water, causing him to suffocate. A rope was tied to his back and cranked through a pulley, pulling him up and plunging him back into the water in quick successions.
Torq wanted to scream, to be saved. But he could neither open his mouth nor even utter any grunts. In silence, he was subjected to torture. The level of torture was sothing that he could endure. But that was what made it hell.
For these mild tortures seed never ending. And they were all committed by those he held with high praise in his heart.
Turning his face to the side, he teared up to see Inala holding the ropes that plunged him repeatedly into the water.
"I should have been the Blessed Clansman." Inala uttered and let go of his hold over the rope, grabbing it right as Torq experienced whiplash and got his head splashed into the water while the rest of his body hung over the surface.
"With your power in my possession, I would have only needed six decades to kill the Celestial Rotocok." He pulled the rope with a powerful grunt and caused Torq’s figure to be launched all the way towards the pulley, where his head hit the fra where the pulley was affixed.
The impact disoriented him, making him puke. But just as the vomit was about to exit his mouth, he was plunged into the water, where the water violently entered his mouth. The collision between the two fluids blasted open his throat.
Torq hung in the air, bleeding through his throat, spilling out blood, water, and vomit. All while resplendent cheers rang through the audience. Flashes went off, as many among the audience took pictures using caras that were bigger than their heads.
For a whole two minutes, he hung there. And just as he was about to faint, the scenery changed. Back in the sa theatre, but in a pristine state, Torq found himself seated on a table, alongside Raurau, Eureur, and Runthral.
"Son, you did well today." Raurau was all smiles as he began dinner, speaking with a pleasant tone, "The principal personally approached to praise your accomplishnts."
"That dicine you refined," Eureur spoke next, her face beaming with smiles as she served the food on the table to Runthral, "I’m planning to bring it up for research and developnt in the next Clan eting."
At this mont, Torq’s hands subconsciously moved towards a glass of juice. He picked up the glass, when the contents exited it and flew into Runthral’s glass.
"Here, I brewed it specifically for you." Eureur spoke gently, "I’m extrely proud of you,"
"My one and only son."
Torq’s outstretched hand shivered in response. It was then he observed the so-called happy family dinner. Raurau didn’t talk much, but the evident expression of proudness on his face stayed as is while he munched on his food.
Eureur talked lots and constantly stuffed Runthral despite the latter complaining his tummy was about to burst.
As for Runthral, he spoke about his day’s experiences at the Academy of Accumulation, going into detail about the issues he faced and the exciting stuff he witnessed. He did complain about being overfed, but his face was beaming, for it was his favourite food.
Torq eyed the plates of the trio before him, actively getting filled and emptied as the family enjoyed their dinner. He then observed his plate, which was empty. Even if he were to add anything to his place, it promptly disappeared. Either Raurau or Eureur used psychokinesis to shift the food to Runthral’s plate.
It was as if he didn’t exist.
Dinner concluded as the family left. The ambient lighting dimd and switched off, staying in darkness for many hours, before it began to gradually brighten up. Torq was still in his seat, as if stuck there.
Soon, it was breakfast ti as the family gathered together to have their family ti. Most of the discussions were pretty mundane, with so argunts and chuckles here and there. In essence, it was a regular family’s morning.
But Torq wasn’t part of it. He was seated on the table, given a plate and all, but never food. And all along, not one paid him a glance.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Each ti, the family discussed their respective experiences. All along, Torq was seated right amidst them, but never a part of their family.
He endured, knowing this was a nightmare. But four days in such a manner, after 12 such family tis, a tear droplet stread down his quivering cheek.
He was sobbing!
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