---
He stepped inside.
It was quiet—too quiet.
Except for the smell. Something was cooking. Someone was cooking.
He was just about to take another step when a voice drifted from the kitchen. Jace.
"Honestly, Mom. What's wrong with him? He's always alone. Never hangs out with anyone. All he does is write in that little journal of his."
A pause.
Then his mother, quieter:
"...Jace, Lioras is... well, he's not like you and I. He's—"
"A freak, Mom."
Lioras heard her sigh. Deep. Exhausted. But the conversation ended there.
He didn't flinch .Didn't blink.
Why would he? Jace's words weren't shocking. This was expected. Routine.
The freak and the perfect clone. What a match they truly were.
As Lioras stepped away from the kitchen and into the living room, he let the voices fade behind him.But one question clung to his mind, stubborn and sharp.
Did she try to defend me? Or...Did she feel the same way Jace did—just too afraid to ever say it out loud?
He exhaled through his nose. Quiet. Controlled.
A mother's love, he thought. How sweet and beautiful it truly was... in a horrifying way.
Lioras wondered, just for a second, if even that thought could make him cry.
But nothing.
No sting behind the eyes. No tightness in his chest. Just... nothing.
There was too much distance. Too much detachment. Something was missing—he just wished he knew what.
Funny, he thought. For all his so-called genius, not even he could figure out what the hell was wrong with him.
He took off his shoes before entering the living room — a nicely lit space, with green wallpaper that gave it a strange, almost cheerful personality.
And there, in the middle of it all, was his father.
Chewing on some kind of tobacco gum. A bad habit, probably leftover from his smuggling days.
Lioras paused and really looked at him — from his slicked-back brown hair to his dull, gray eyes. His teeth, stained yellow. His jaw, always clenched.
Their eyes met.
A staredown. Brief. Heavy.Nothing needed to be said — but somehow, everything was.
The pain in mine, Lioras thought, to the ignorance in his.
For a second, it felt like a lifetime passed between them.
And in that second, Lioras knew something he hated knowing, He didn't fully hate his father. Not entirely.
There was still something there. A thin, pale string stretched between them — weak, distant, but real. Tied to something buried deep inside him. Something he was too afraid to look at.
He respected him. Loved him. Wanted to be him.
Once.
But now…
There was another string. Thicker. Black. Burned at the edges. It was still attached to his heart, too — but this one didn't come from the past.
This one was now.
It wasn't love. It was hate. A hatred born not out of rage, but survival. Balance. The other half of something he couldn't let go of.
He wished he could snap the white string. Let it die — along with the version of his father he once believed in.
But he couldn't.
Because he needed it. That string had shaped him. Molded him. Turned him into something stronger than his father ever was — or ever could be.
And then it ended.
His father said nothing.
And for once… the silence hurt.
Lioras hadn't expected a conversation—but he had wanted something. Just a word. A sign. A reason.
But there was nothing.
Not a word. Not even a glance.
Lioras let out a quiet, bitter chuckle the moment his father's eyes drifted back to the flickering holo-screen.
That was the cue. That was always the cue.
So he walked away.
Left the room—and all the memories with it.
At the hallway's end, he turned left, where the old handrail waited. He gripped it lightly, more for ritual than support, and made his way up the family stairs.
Each step creaked, but he was used to the sound.
At the top, the hallway split.
To the left: Jace's room. To the right: Halric's. And in the center—his own.
His solitude.
The only place where he could truly exist. His room. His solstice.
The one place he could still be himself.
However, just before he could enter his room—
A soft voice called out from the right.
"Lioras? Is that you?"
He turned.
Halric stood in the doorway, smiling innocently, a few colorful cards fanned out in his hands—probably something new everyone his age was into.
Lioras forced a small smile.
"Hey, Halric. How are you?"
Halric lit up.
"I'm great! Hey—check these bad boys out!"
He rushed over and held up the cards—bright, shiny, painted with dramatic artwork of armored warriors mid-battle.
"Isn't this cool? Everyone's playing it right now!"
"What is it?"
"Well, basically..."
Halric launched into a rapid-fire explanation—something about power points, summoning rules, special attacks. Lioras zoned out after the first few sentences, picking up the basics while his mind wandered.
Halric finally paused to take a breath.
"So... want to play?"
Lioras looked at him. Really looked at him.
That same innocence.That same smile.So unaware of how cruel the world could be.
Part of him wanted to break it.To tell Halric the truth. Show him what life was really like.Tear away the illusion.
But he couldn't.Because no matter how much he pretended not to care—That smile meant something.
It was warm. Inviting.Something soft in a world that had turned cold.
So instead, Lioras said:
"Of course, Halric."
He stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him.
His silence—interrupted for now.
But that was okay.
Soon, he'd have it again.But until then...
It was time to show Halric the power of silence.
---
Lioras – 13 Years Old – Diary Entry 280
... ... ...
Today… wasn't too bad.Honestly, it was one of the better days.I expected something chaotic, like yesterday. Some kind of anger. Some kind of hate.But today was simple.Part of the rhythm, I guess.
I think this entry will be short.There's not much that needs to be said.
But I will say this:
Fuck you, Jace.
...
Dad...Hmm. Sometimes I wonder if I should even use that word.Maybe it's too familiar.Davin feels more appropriate.Yes, I like that. It feels... truer to our relationship.
Davin.
Today, I looked at you — and I felt something.Not love, exactly. But something.Something more than hate.
I don't know if you're changing, or if it's just me.Probably me.As I grow, so does my cognition. My understanding.Which is expected.
I wonder if I'll get even smarter.
Not if you have anything to say about it.
You hate my genius.And yet you exploit it for your gain.You resent me — but need me.
Maybe one day, I'll be strong enough to stop you.To break free.
But for now, I'll keep playing your little game.Because that's all this is: a game.One I plan to win.
Halric…
Today...
sigh.
I don't know how to feel about you.
Some days, I hate you.Some days, I love you.Some days, both.
I just… don't know.
But today, I enjoyed our time.It reminded me of something simpler.A happier time.
So thank you for that.
But let me be clear:
It changes nothing.My mask stays on for a reason.
To protect me.Because if you ever saw the real me...You'd never be the same.
So thank me, Halric.Thank me, dear brother.
And Mom…
I just—
...
I hoped that you would be—
No.No.No.
I can't.
It's too hard with you.For some reason... I just can't write about you.
Maybe one day.
Maybe.
Anyway, I should get some sleep.
I've got a long day tomorrow.Davin came in after my game with Halric — said he wants me on a trip with him.
He's worried the nav core will break again,Even though I fixed it perfectly.
He always questions me.Not because I'm wrong.But because I'm right.
And that bothers him.
Still... maybe tomorrow will be different.Maybe we'll talk.Maybe he'll see me as more than his freak genius son.More than a disappointment.
I don't know.
Huh. I wrote more than I thought I would.That's a surprise.
But that's enough surprises for one night.
Time for bed.
Goodnight, Lioras.
... ... ...