October, Year 483
Headquarters Of The Order
North

Ten. Dawn finally managed to count the full number of minutes she was in pain.

It took a while.

The numbness pulled her under while the spasms in her aching muscles brought her back, gasping for breath and trying not to bite off her tongue. Not that Damien would care of course, he still had that permanent smirk on his face.

Dawn couldn't blame him. It was her choice not to obey the urge that coursed through her veins. She cursed that damned truth serum each time it compelled her not to lie. And each time she didn't tell the truth, she was punished with volts of electricity that bubbled from deep within her gut.

It was unimaginable pain, it was torture. But she was used to that. If Damien thought that a couple of shocks would get her to betray Corey, then he was dreaming.

The pain was nostalgic. It reminded Dawn of a time when she was younger; the days when Corey was part of her family, living under their roof as her father's adopted son—his only son and heir.

He used to hate thunderstorms but that hate seemed to stem from fear. He always lost control of his powers when lightning came crashing from the sky and usually it resulted in the closest person to him getting a good, painful dose of current through their core.

The closest person to Corey at any given time was usually Dawn.

"Draekon," she looked up slowly and glared at Damien as he walked into the room. His pleasure was evident. "Your father wants to see you."

Dawn stared at him, her eyes widening as she let the information sink in.

"W-why?" she blurted even as he started undoing the ropes that tied her to the chair.

"How am I supposed to know?" He took a step back and raised an eyebrow. "You're free."

The professor was shocked to see no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead of taking her to her father, he was letting her go?

"What did you do?" she asked and rubbed her wrists.

"Nothing." His lips turned at the corners to reveal a gorgeous smile. "I was supposed to kill you. . . In the end, let's just say you owe me one."

Dawn still couldn't imagine why a person who hated her so much would do anything to help her.

"I could have escaped," she retorted.

"Yes, you could have," he agreed. "But would it be before or after your boyfriend resigned from the post of Minister?"

"Corey?" Dawn jumped away from her chair and was about to rush at Damien when a jolt of pain it her. She went spiralling to the floor.

Damien caught her with one hand and pulled her up. "Not so fast, girl. I don't need you dying on me."

The words shocked Dawn. They were nothing Damien would ever say.

She looked at him carefully and this time she didn't miss the hint of green that danced behind his dark irises. She swallowed and pulled away from him. Immediately knowing that Dmien was gone, if he had actually been there all along. Whoever this was, it wasn't him.

The moment he let me go was the moment he ceased to exist.

"Take me to my father." she told the shell of a man in front of her, still finding it hard to believe that the boy she grew up with was dead just like that.

Even if her father had twisted a part of him to hate her, that didn't mean he could kill the only human on earth who actually adored him.

Mind possession, a chilling voice whispered into her ears. Do you like it?

Dawn blinked and her focus returned to Damien. Now he was nothing but a heap of flesh on the floor already covered with her blood.

She tried to convince herself that it wasn't her fault, but guilt still stabbed at her heart. It was her fault. Whether directly or not, too many people had already died because of her.

Taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes, the professor waited for her body to start healing, and when it had been restored to peak condition, she made her way out of the room, not forgetting to grab the bloodied scalpel still lying on the table.

She had almost forgotten about her father's games, but now the truth was clear to her. Damien was a pawn that had disobeyed and so he was no longer important, just like she had long since ceased to be longer important.

Dawn let out a breath and flexed her fingers around the scalpel. She took one last look at her deceased torturer before navigation the string of hallways in front of her.

†

Dawn stopped at a door, taking her time to trace the ornate designs on the oak. Her mother had carved them so it was no surprise that her father kept it. She had been his favorite wife.

Dawn pushed against the fine handle and went along with the heavy wood as it crossed a long arc into the room. The moment it opened she fell to her knees, not because she wanted to but because of the pressure that bore down her.

"My Lord," she struggled to lift her head, eager to spit at the man she had not seen since she was thirteen and ran away from home with Corey.

"Dawn," the displeasure in his voice was obvious but Dawn knew there was a hint of joy behind it. After all, she was the only thing alive that resembled her mother.

The pressure that came from being in his presence abated and Dawn stood up, straight and serious as she glared at the seven foot tall giant of a man in front of her.

"Why did you send for me?" she asked.

As expected, his face was young, like that of a teenager but his expression was that of a timely sage. He looked younger than before, his body shrouded in a white cloak with a golden crown resting on his head.

He didn't look like a human and his countenance was that of an angel's. Dawn had never doubted his power and her father himself likened his visage to that of a god, one that shouldn't exist.

"Your friend, Elton," he took a step back and sank into the seat behind him, his ever glorious throne, "is ruining my plans."

Even as she rejoiced at the fact that her friend was still alive, Dawn wondered what plans those actually were.

"Plans to destroy the world?" she guessed.

"You must always see everything I do in an evil light, mustn't you? Why can't you be more like your sisters?" His tone was genial, and if she didn't know better she would have thought that he cared about what she thought of him.

"You just killed Damien out of spite."

"He disobeyed direct orders."

"So you killed your only apprentice because a part of him still loved me?"

Her father didn't answer, instead he waved his hand and like an holographic projection, a blue and green planet came into view. He changed the subject like he always did when she questioned him.

"This was Earth before the war," he waved his hand again, "and this is Earth after the division."

Dawn wasn't shocked to see the giant walls that split the planet in four, what caught her gaze was the North Pole. It was missing, a dent in the planet where it should have been. "How is that possible?"

"The ones attacking the capital are from there. I didn't create the fog but I did help it spread. The Genet—that is what they call themselves—and I have reached an agreement. If they manage to conquer the world, I get half of it. Being the leader of The Order has gotten," he paused, as though looking for the right word as he smiled down at her, "mundane."

"Why?" Dawn demanded an answer. It wasn't like him to indulge her with his musings. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, child," he beckoned her closer, "you are expendable."

†