After half an hour of playing in the air, Aline finally put me down on the ground. She laughed and said she had to go, then disappeared into the alleys with the same speed and confidence she had appeared with.

  I remained standing in my place, still feeling a slight dizziness from the flight, my heart beating fast.

  I was thinking about her. Her parents had died, and she had been thrown into this hell like all of us. But she wasn't broken. She was full of life, laughter, and magic. How could someone who had been through all that still radiate with hope like that?

  I didn't understand.

  Night fell, and the cold returned to the air and to my soul. It was my time with "Mother."

  I went to her office door and knocked. "Enter," her voice came from inside.

  She was sitting behind her desk, engrossed in reading a long scroll bearing the red wax seal of the Gu Clan. She didn't even raise her head. "Prepare the tools," she said coldly.

  I went to the cabinet in the corner. I had come to know where everything was. I took out the thin leather whip, then the metal ruler, and placed them carefully on the edge of her desk. I did it with a calm routine, as if I were preparing the altar for a sacrifice, and the sacrifice was me.

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  The "forging" session began.

  I felt that familiar "feeling," the sense of a twisted connection that came from her complete focus on me. The pain was there, but beneath the pain was this other thing, this thing I had named "happiness" in my mind.

  But this time, it was different.

  In the midst of the pain, an image of Aline's genuine, bright laugh as we escaped over the rooftops flashed in my mind.

  For the first time, I compared the two feelings. 'This feeling here... is heavy, burning, and dark. The happiness with Aline was light, warm, and bright. They are not the same thing.'

  So... what is this that I'm feeling here?

  The session ended unusually early. "Go," she said, and returned to her scroll. I felt a pang of disappointment that her "attention" had ended so quickly, but this feeling was now mixed with a deep confusion.

  I left her office, lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, I saw her. Aline was waiting in the dark corridor, leaning against the wall.

  I was surprised. And she was surprised too. "Hongbin?" she said in a low voice. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

  "And what are you doing?" I echoed her question.

  She was silent for a moment, then her eyes fell on the new red marks the whip had left on my arm, which my torn shirt didn't completely cover.

  Her expression changed, becoming soft and filled with concern. "Did... did they hit you again?"

  I felt shame burn my face. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't want her pity. I wanted her to see me as strong, like her.

  I forced myself to laugh with an artificial coldness. "These? Just training wounds. I have to become the strongest Prometheus in history, right?"

  I turned to leave. "And now, this Prometheus is feeling sleepy. I'm going to bed."

  "Wait."

  I felt her hand grab my arm. Her touch was gentle, but her grip was strong.

  "What?" she said, her gaze now serious and sharp.

  Then she added in a voice that brooked no argument. "You horse. Follow me."