---
Chapter 6: Break Them Open
The morning came with violence.
A horn blared before the sky even lightened. Ethan flinched awake just as the cell door slammed open, and a soldier's boot crashed into the wall inches from Ren's head.
"Up, flukes! The pit waits for no one!"
Chains rattled. The cold was gone—but only because the heat had arrived. Already the air felt dry and sharp, like breathing ground glass.
> [New Camp Cycle: Initiated]
[System Note: Environmental stress will suppress mana recovery. Host stamina will degrade 2x faster.]
[Conversion Progress: 26% — Ren Arlow]
[Bond Resilience: Moderate. Subject seeks proximity.]
Ren looked dazed, his hair messy and face pale. Ethan reached out, steadying him without a word.
Together, they were yanked out into the red morning light.
The labor yard was a pit carved into the earth—black rock walls, iron scaffolding, a dozen rope ladders, and maybe two hundred other flukes already swinging pickaxes under the sun. Guards stood above with whips and crossbows. Smoke curled from bonfires where guards warmed stew—but none of it was for the workers.
A heavy-set man stood by the tool rack, bald, pockmarked, and missing three fingers.
This was Taskmaster Grul.
"New meat!" he growled, spitting onto the dirt. "Let's see how long you last before crying for your mothers."
He shoved rusted tools into their hands—Ethan got a dull shovel. Ren got nothing.
"He'll haul rock. Pretty boy doesn't get metal," Grul sneered. "Wouldn't want him hurting his dainty hands."
Ethan opened his mouth—but Ren touched his wrist gently.
"It's okay," he whispered.
No. It's not.
> [Host Frustration Detected.]
[Warning: Open defiance = 64% chance of public beating. Recommend restraint.]
The next twelve hours were agony.
Ethan dug through sun-scorched stone until his arms shook. The shovel cracked a blister by the second hour. The dust got into his throat. The guards yelled if you worked too slow. Whipped if you stood up too fast. Laughed when someone collapsed.
Ren carried buckets of loose gravel back and forth. At first, he struggled. Tripped. Got shoved down by other workers trying to survive.
Ethan tried to help—once. A guard noticed.
Grul's whip came down hard across his back. Ethan bit back a scream.
> [Pain Threshold Increased. Physical Adaptation Accelerated.]
[Emotional Influence Spike: Ren Arlow. Progress: 31%]
[Subject now emotionally dependent. Hormonal markers shifting.]
Through the haze, Ethan noticed Ren glancing at him—eyes wide, lips trembling.
Not with fear.
With guilt.
The same guilt Ethan had once felt on Earth, staring at his reflection, wondering why he couldn't be "normal."
The sun dipped low. Still, the digging continued.
By dusk, six men had collapsed. Two were dragged away. The rest were too tired to speak. Only the system's cool voice kept Ethan aware of time.
> [New Compatible Target Detected: "Garin" — Age 22. Compatibility 47%. Status: Isolated. Bitterness forming.]
[Physical State: 47% stamina remaining. Pain: Moderate. Muscle growth: Initiated.]
When the bell finally rang, Ethan barely stood. Ren leaned into him, walking with a limp, face flushed with sunburn.
They didn't speak.
But Ethan draped an arm over his shoulders as they limped back to their cell.
No one said a word to them. Even the guards looked away.
---
Back in the dark, Ren collapsed beside him. His breathing was shallow. His eyes wet, but no tears came.
"Why…" he whispered, "Why do I feel safer next to you… even when everything else hurts?"
Ethan didn't have the answer.
But the system did.
> [Trait Reinforced: Comfort Anchor. Subject recovers +12% morale and +8% stamina while physically near host.]
[First Day Complete. Passive Strength Gain: +1 Tier.]
[Host has earned first point of "Dominance." Use to unlock a new system ability.]
Ethan stared into the darkness. His body felt broken. His hands trembled.
But somewhere deep beneath the agony…
He felt something growing.
Not just strength.
Purpose.
---