7 - Growing Up in a Gilded Cage

  It struck exactly midnight on the clock in my bedroom. Today, I finally turned five.

  Sometimes even I couldn’t believe I’d made it this far—after all, on more than one occasion I’d tried to find a way back to my old world.

  Unfortunately, the maids and the guards were very good at what they did. Well… I don’t blame them. If my life—and the lives of their families—depended on it, I’d also take very good care of the baby.

  A thin red thread of dust slipped delicately inside the clock and nudged the battery free with a soft click.

  I grabbed it quickly, before the sound could alert the guards outside. My control over the dust was still improving, but stamina remained my biggest problem.

  Being completely drained after using the dust forced me to settle for using far less than I was actually capable of.

  Like trying to pour an entire lake through a faucet.

  But that wasn’t the only skill that had evolved. The books stolen from the library had become a personal smuggling operation—something I worked very hard to steal and keep hidden.

  Through them, I learned more about this world.

  The dust brushed lightly across my hand, the smell of rust as strong as ever, then drifted to the corner of the room and shifted a lever hidden beneath the floor.

  After that, all it took was a gentle tug on a loose board in the corner for it to lift.

  The pile of parts and books hidden there smelled of mold… and iron, thanks to the dust.

  That was where my newest interest lay. The book’s name was so generic—Parts and Precision—that if I hadn’t skimmed its pages years ago, I’d have assumed it was just about antique clocks.

  But after the drone incident years back, my attention had been drawn to a peculiar art of this new world.

  Constructs—that was what they called beings powered entirely by gears. For someone from my world, it seemed impossible.

  To this world, it was almost a joke compared to the technology they possessed. Still, they had one absurd advantage.

  The mansion’s barrier didn’t detect them.

  Which, conveniently, helped me keep everything a secret from Dad.

  I felt like I’d go insane if I kept my adult mind trapped in a child’s body all the time. Working on these projects became a way to calm myself… and, of course, a great excuse to try destroying a few things around the mansion.

  I pulled a mechanical ant the size of my hand from the hiding place and slotted the battery into its back. A few seconds later, it trembled, twitched its antennae, and opened its mandibles like a living ant.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  — Cute — I whispered to myself, stroking its metallic head—cold as the dust.

  It replied with a few clicks of its jaw, then stopped.

  Shut down fast. The core that powered it was too simple; it could only execute basic commands.

  In the end, a toy core would still result in a toy—unless it received upgrades. But for something better… I’d need real parts.

  I removed the battery and carefully put the ant away.

  Then I turned to the toy boxes lining an entire shelf.

  All brand-new, flawless, without imperfections.

  Anything that broke was replaced almost immediately.

  No time to get seriously hurt.

  Unfortunately, it became exactly what I liked doing most.

  Breaking them.

  Threads of Dust pulled down one box at a time, placing them neatly within reach of my small hands. Even limited, my power was still strong enough to carry an adult.

  Sometimes I wondered what my limit would be if I used everything at once.

  But no.

  That would expose me.

  And make things even more complicated in an already complicated world.

  I sat down calmly and began tearing parts out, separating what I could polish or reuse later.

  Then I heard a faint noise outside—something like distant footsteps.

  Without wasting time, I used the dust to sweep everything back under the floor and slide the board into place.

  I tipped over a few toy boxes and scattered them around as if I’d just made a mess playing at night.

  The sound grew louder.

  The footsteps drew closer.

  My face hardened automatically. I hugged Red to my chest to calm myself.

  The doors opened at the guards’ hands, as always.

  And then he entered.

  The being I had hated forever.

  He wore military clothes even at this hour. It seemed he owned no other outfit besides those uniforms—and as if rest were an optional concept.

  I liked that last part. After all, working too much might make him die faster.

  — Good children should be asleep at this hour, Laziel.

  I put on a convincing pout. As if I were going to behave—I’m literally the son of a demon.

  He quickly realized that sympathy wouldn’t work. The false affection vanished from his face like a discarded mask.

  The floor creaked almost in protest as he advanced with heavy steps.

  Moonlight streamed through the windows and touched his wine-colored eyes.

  The red seemed more vivid.

  More alert.

  His harsh voice gave a single order:

  — Bed.

  I obeyed immediately. Over the years, he seemed to have learned that a loving approach didn’t work on me. Whenever he didn’t get what he wanted, he grew colder.

  — Stop wasting my time. Go rest.

  The gentle tone at the end only made it worse.

  I turned my back and closed my eyes. I could still hear his footsteps echoing as he moved down the corridor.

  Sometimes I wondered if he even knew how to walk normally… or if stepping like that was just a style, a warning so everyone knew the boss was around.

  Well, considering he controls the entire planet… maybe he really could do whatever he wanted.

  I sighed softly and tried to sleep.

  Tomorrow would be my first time leaving the mansion.

  Maybe the perfect chance to attempt an escape.

  Or, who knows, simply slip and fall… onto a sword, a rock, anything.

  Anything that would get me out of here.

  I left the child’s room and pulled a cigarette from my pocket. That brat looks more like a teenager every day than a baby born yesterday.

  A soldier in front of my office lit my cigarette while another opened the door for me.

  The stacks of documents needed me; some were so useless I wanted to burn them along with their author.

  — Unfortunately, I can’t burn them all.

  I exhaled smoke and sat in my chair, then noticed something wrong. My watch read half past midnight—but in the child’s room, it had still been midnight.

  — Huh, little pest. —I pressed lightly against my leg.

  The prosthetic dropped to the floor with a dull metallic thud.

  Thunk.

  I brought a hand to my temple.

  — Let’s get to work. Tomorrow that boy will learn something about the world… I just hope it won’t be like the others.

  I released more smoke before putting out the cigarette and returning to work.