The Tower always grew eerily quiet at night. No whips, no clanging picks, no barks from the overseers. Just the shuffle of chained children in their cells, and the occasional cough that echoed against the stone walls.
Shanks lay flat on the cold floor, staring up at the ceiling where moonlight leaked faintly through the cracks. His muscles screamed with exhaustion, but his mind was restless. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the guard's face earlier that day—the way the man's arm had faltered under his gaze, as if some unseen weight had pressed down on him.
"What was that…?" Shanks muttered under his breath, turning onto his side.
Beside him, Erza stirred. She wasn't asleep either. Even at her age, she had already learned to rest with one ear open, her single eye sharp even in the dim light.
"Thinking too loud again," she said softly.
Shanks huffed. "He hesitated, Erza. The guard… he looked at me and—"
"And you got lucky," she cut in, her voice sharp enough to silence him. "Don't imagine things that will get you killed."
Her words stung, but when Shanks turned to look at her, he saw the way her fists were clenched tight on her knees. She wasn't scolding him because she doubted him. She was scolding him because she was afraid.
Around them, whispers stirred. The other children were awake too, their voices carrying through the cell.
"He made the guard flinch, didn't he?"
"I felt it. My chest got heavy for a second…"
"No. That's impossible. He's just a kid."
"So are you."
The voices rose, half awe, half fear. Some children looked toward Shanks with hope in their eyes, others with suspicion, as if his very presence unsettled them.
Shanks sat up, meeting their gazes. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the shadows, not with magic, but with a stubborn defiance that refused to bow.
"I don't know what happened," he admitted. "But if it can scare them… maybe it can help us."
A murmur rippled through the group. Escape. The word wasn't spoken yet, but it was there, heavy in the air.
Erza's eye narrowed. "Enough," she snapped at the others. "Stop filling his head with dangerous dreams."
Her authority silenced the whispers, but Shanks noticed some children looking at him differently now. Not as another prisoner—but as something else. Something unexplainable.
The next day, the overseers drove them harder. The heat was sweltering, the air thick with dust. Children coughed as they lifted stones, their tiny hands raw and bleeding.
Shanks stumbled under the weight of a slab, his knees scraping the ground. A guard kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him sprawling.
"Useless brat!" the man spat, raising his whip.
Shanks groaned, clutching his side. He could taste iron on his tongue. His vision blurred as rage boiled up inside him.
No. Not again.
The whip never fell
A sudden wave of pressure pulsed out of Shanks, invisible yet undeniable. The air grew heavy, pressing against everyone nearby. Children gasped, dropping their tools as they clutched at their chests. The guard staggered back, his whip slipping from his grasp.
"What… what is this?!" he rasped, his face pale. Sweat dripped down his temple as his knees buckled.
Shanks was trembling, his breath ragged, but his golden eyes never left the man. For an instant, it felt like the entire world bent under his will.
Then the feeling vanished, leaving him gasping on the floor.
The guard stumbled back, fear etched into his face. He spat on the ground, muttered curses, and retreated, not daring to look back at the boy.
The children were silent, staring at Shanks as if they'd seen a ghost.
One finally whispered, "What… are you?"
Shanks didn't answer. He didn't know himself. His hands shook as he pressed them to the ground, fighting to steady his breath. His heart hammered not just with fear, but with something else—something wild. Power.
Erza crouched beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Her eye was calm, steady, and fierce all at once.
"You're my brother," she said firmly. "That's all that matters."
Her words anchored him, pulling him back from the storm inside. He nodded, managing a shaky grin. "Guess I scared him worse than he scared me."
For the first time in days, Erza allowed herself the faintest smile.
That night, the whispers were louder.
"If he can do that again…"
"We might actually stand a chance."
"We could escape."
The word finally broke free into the open, and it spread like wildfire. Children leaned closer, their eyes alight with a dangerous hope.
Erza scowled, crossing her arms. "Don't be fools. Most who try to escape die before they reach the sea."
Her warning silenced some, but Shanks felt the fire kindling inside him. He leaned closer to her, his voice low but fierce.
"You heard them. We don't have to stay here forever."
Erza's eye softened, but her jaw was set. "If we run, many will die. You don't understand yet, Shanks. Escape isn't that simple."
Shanks clenched his fists. "Then we'll make it simple. You and me. We'll break these chains. We'll show them we're not afraid."
For a long moment, Erza stared at him, searching his eyes. He was reckless, yes. But there was no fear in him. Only fire.
Finally, she sighed and turned back to the ceiling. "Then we'll plan. But promise me, Shanks… you won't throw yourself away."
He grinned despite the pain in his ribs. "I promise. As long as you're with me."
Outside, the waves crashed against the tower's stone foundation. The guards slept, unaware.
But within the hearts of two crimson-haired children, rebellion had already begun to stir.