An orb that granted regeneration. At least, that's what humans hoped would happen.
Millions of kids sold off to the Imperial Family for the 'Orb Regeneration' project.
The first kid? Nothing. They pricked him with needles. Then they got creative. Sliced skin, stabbed stomachs—still nothing.
Many more kids were tested. Nothing happened.
I was the 489th "participant". My parents fed me with lies that I would get to eat more and grow well if I tried my best. That they were doing this for my sake. I believed them. I smiled. I tried my best. And... it worked.
All the little injuries they pricked on me. Vanished. The bruises? Unless the scholars or I said something, no one would know. I looked perfect.
They tried and tried and tried so many more experiments on me until I was only a living doll. Used for their whims. They stabbed me, hit me. Broke me.
None of it worked. The regeneration only healed the little wounds. Like a cruel joke god played one me thinking I'm its plaything.
The scholars told me this was all for the better of the Empire. I would become revered across the Empire. People would beg at my feet for a look, a glance.
What they didn't tell was if it didn't work, I would become a doll for the Imperial Family instead of the scholars. Which was much, much worse.
By servants, no less—the same ones who kissed the floor when my "Father" entered the room.
Oh yes. To twist the knife deeper, they adopted me.
At first, they wanted my fame and glory. But that never came. Now, I'm just a toy to vent their frustrations out on. They made me learn everything a noble needed and much more. Any mistake I made, I was beaten or whipped.
On my birthday, I had no one. Just a lonely cake, just like me.
But on my 15th birthday, I realized there was a power within me. One that I couldn't quite grasp or make out. Whenever I had free time, I tried to catch that power that was always on the edge, escaping me.
I cherished whatever it was because it was mine and mine only.
No one could know about it. I kept it locked up, deep in my heart. Vowing to never let anyone know.
Next year, I have my debutante. The day where I'll be able to run or the day when the Imperial Family truly keeps me under lock and key by marrying me off to some supporter of theirs.
Either might happen. But I just have to be faster. Smarter.
I have to figure out what this power is-before the Imperial Family makes their next move.
We're locked in a deadly game of chess.
One plays to survive.
The other to conquer.
Who'll win this game of chess?