The man reached his hand under his cloak, and in it was something wrapped in the shape of a small circle. The object was made of a strange material, resembling metal but alive, pulsing as if it had a heart. It pulsed with a slow, regular rhythm, as if breathing. Its surface was shiny, black like the sand outside the hut, but it moved, expanding and contracting like a living creature.
The man looked at the circle in his hand. Then he focused his spark, directing it into his palm. He didn't need to make it glow or flare – he simply concentrated, and a faint blue light flickered for a split second as he injected the circle with his spark.
At that moment, the circle began to change.
It shook violently, as if something inside it was awakening from a long sleep. Its size doubled once, then twice, then three times, until it became the size of a palm. The black surface began to crack, and from those cracks came a faint red light. Then the circle began to disintegrate, melt, and transform into something else.
It was a worm. A black worm, its skin shiny like glass, its small red eyes gleaming in the darkness. Its body was flexible, fluid, moving like a snake but smaller. It moved slowly in the man's palm, as if exploring its surroundings, then raised its head toward the bound orc.
The bound orc screamed: "What is this? What do you want from me?!"
His scream filled the hut, but neither the man nor the seated orc answered. They watched quietly, like those watching a scene they had seen a thousand times.
The man gently grasped the worm, with trained hands, and brought it close to the bound orc's ear. The worm writhed in his hand, trying to reach its target.
"No!" the orc screamed, trying to pull away. "Stay away from me! Stay away!"
He pulled at the chains violently, the iron rings making loud sounds, but nothing changed. He was doomed.
The man released the worm, and it entered the orc's ear with astonishing speed. It disappeared as if it had never been there, as if the darkness had swallowed it.
A moment of silence.
Then the orc began to scream.
It was a scream unlike anything ever heard before. A scream from the depths, from the soul, from a place unreachable. His body began to thrash violently, the chains clashing against the ground with a loud noise. His face began to convulse, his eyes rolling in their sockets, his mouth wide open but no longer able to produce any sound. His body trembled like one struck by lightning, and sweat poured from him like rain.
This continued for a full minute. A minute of pure agony, a minute of endless screaming, a minute of thrashing that nearly broke the chains.
Then it stopped.
His body fell to the ground, motionless, like a piece of dead flesh. He remained silent for several seconds, then began to breathe. A slow, deep, unnatural breath. As if his lungs were learning to breathe anew.
He opened his eyes.
But his eyes were no longer the same. They were empty. Soulless. Without fear. Without anger. They were the eyes of a walking corpse. Everything that had been in him – personality, pride, anger – had disappeared. Only the shell remained.
The man spoke, but this time in the orc language. His speech was fluent, as if he had spoken it his entire life. There was no accent, no hesitation.
"Who are you?"
The bound orc slowly raised his head and looked at the man with his empty eyes. His movements were mechanical, as if his body no longer belonged to him.
"I am Krugash, chieftain of the Iron Shadow tribe."
He paused for a moment, then added in a mechanical, emotionless voice, like a machine speaking:
"I am your servant."
The man looked at the orc sitting on the stone chair. The seated orc watched the scene with sharp eyes, but showed no emotion. His face was like stone. But in his eyes, there was something. Something like satisfaction.
The man approached the seated orc and said:
"You have done well. The tribe is now under our control."
The seated orc nodded. He said nothing, but he knew this was only the beginning.
asked the seated orc.
"And what are your orders now?"
The man thought for a moment. His yellow eyes stared into empty space, as if seeing something distant, something others could not see. Then he said:
"I will send you new instructions soon. In the meantime, make sure your tribe is ready. We will need them soon."
Then he looked at the bound orc, who was still kneeling on the ground motionless, like a puppet without strings.
"And that one... take him with you. He will be useful."
The seated orc rose from his chair and approached the bound orc. He lifted him with ease and placed him on his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. Then he looked at the man and waited.
But the man did not move. He was thinking. He was planning.
he whispered to himself.
"The time is approaching...Soon... the real game will begin."
Then he turned to the seated orc and said:
"Go now. And you..." he looked at the bound orc "... you will come with me soon."
The man turned and left the hut, leaving the two orcs behind. He entered the sandstorm again and began walking in the opposite direction, his steps as steady as before.
But this time, there was something different. Something in his eyes. Something that resembled a smile, even though his mouth was hidden beneath the hood.
He was satisfied.
the seed he had planted began to grow. In the darkness of the black desert, forces were moving, threads were being woven, and conspiracies were being planned. And in another place, far from this desert, Ryan was still sleeping in his room at the academy. He knew nothing of what had happened. He did not know that in the shadows, there were eyes watching, hands moving, and plans being executed.
But that would change soon.