He didn't know how long it had been since he had tried to sleep, but there was something in the silence that woke him, strangely enough, not a sound or a movement. But some kind of internal sensation, as if the pressure in the room had changed, as if the air had become thicker, heavier, more saturated, as if someone invisible had entered and remained, dissolved in space. He opened his eyes and immediately understood: something strange was happening to his body.
First, he felt the heat rising from within. It did not happen in a flash or a wave, but as a slowly increasing temperature, capturing every organ, every cell. He tried to sit up, but the movement was difficult: his muscles seemed to refuse to obey, his joints were stiff, and his breathing began to falter, as if his chest was being squeezed from within. He slowly lowered his legs to the floor, feeling the pulsation growing in his temples. Every thought was given with effort, attention was scattered, and the only clear sensation was how the mark began to flare up under the skin on his neck.
He touched it with his fingers carefully, almost pleadingly, but nothing changed. On the contrary, with each touch the sensation only intensified. It seemed that the skin was burning. He tried to breathe deeper, to look for coolness in the air, but each breath only brought more heat. He stood up, not knowing where to go, because there was no way out anyway, and took a step towards the wall, as if he could find support in it. His fingers slid along the stone, and his body responded with a tremor from suppressed tension.
The mark continued to pulse. It did not just hurt, it seemed to breathe its own life. And with each of its contractions, a wave began to rise inside for which there was no name. It was not desire, not fear and not pain, but all together, mixed into one: a feeling of powerlessness in front of something he did not control.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to the wall, hoping that if he held still it would stop. But instead his body began to react more violently: his breathing became ragged, heat seemed to trickle down his spine, and his stomach muscles trembled with the effort of holding back an incomprehensible inner call, coming from a depth he had never felt so clearly before.
He turned to the room, looking for something that could explain what was happening, even the slightest sign of a source, but the space was empty, static.
It felt like he was the only one in this world going crazy for no reason.
He looked up at the ceiling, not expecting to see anything, and at that very moment everything inside him clenched.
Directly above him, where the stone slabs met, in a strip of shadow, he saw eyes.
They did not flash or move. They just stared. Cold, flat, faded steel with an icy sheen - just like Serak's. He couldn't believe at first that they were real. He didn't know if it was a dream or a hallucination caused by the heat, but they were there - and they looked at him without any words. Just a presence, heavy, oppressive, from which everything inside him collapsed.
Omega was sure that it was Serak. Without any doubt it was him. Omega had seen thousands of eyes, but only this man's eyes looked at him with such contempt and hatred.
He didn't know if he felt the effect of magic or pheromones on himself, or if this was all a product of his own fear and addiction. He didn't know if it was planned or accidental, but he felt broken to the core now for sure. His legs buckled, and he sank to his knees, clenching his hands into fists and pressing them to his chest, because it was the only way he could keep from screaming.
"Please..." The voice was dry. He didn't even know if they could hear him. "Please... stop..."
"..."
"It hurts, Serak, it hurts, Serak."
The pain was becoming unbearable, the omega couldn't even understand what he was saying. But he was definitely asking. Asking for it to end, because the humiliation was not in the pain or the heat, but in the fact that he knew he was being used. He felt like they were really watching him, to study how he was collapsing. And most of all, he was afraid that this was exactly what he was bought for.
Could it be that they bought him to kill him and get pleasure from it? Was he not the first person to end up in this bedroom?
He began to cry from the inability to defend himself. The man did not react to the omega's words, but continued to look steadily. If his face were fully visible, a satisfied smile would probably be playing on his face now.
In a moment, the omega felt all the pain go away, his breathing became ragged. He was even able to get up from his knees and take a couple of steps towards his soft bed. Forgetting that his body was unworthy of this luxury.
but
Consciousness floated. He fell, unable to hold on, and his body softly hit the floor, and only one thought remained in his head: he means nothing. He is just a thing that has no right to be called a person. And, perhaps, he will never be one.
He lost consciousness, not noticing when his eyes disappeared.
In another part of the castle, in a room lined with heavy curtains and fading lamplight, Serak sat in a chair, half-turned to the window. His left hand lay on the armrest, his right hand touched his chin. His face was calm, but in this silence, one could feel a suppressed irritation. There was no anger in it, but there was something much more dangerous - an insistent expectation that did not tolerate delays.
In front of him, standing straight, as if at a reception, was a man in a white coat. The fabric on his back was already slightly damp from sweat. He did not know where his gaze was directed. His eyes darted from the floor to the window, but not directly at his interlocutor. His lips were tightly pressed together, and his hands were clenched imperceptibly at his sides, betraying internal tension. It was as if he was choosing his words, although he understood that none of them could satisfy the expectations of the one sitting in front of him.
Serak tore his gaze away from the window, turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes narrowed, and he asked slowly but clearly
"And when will his abilities finally manifest?"