Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Xanthea]

Asher's tone grew heavier and I could see why through my mother's memories.

"The weak bloods were promised a permanent secure shelter within these walls..."

All the giant gates and smaller exits of the walls were closed, trapping all the weak bloods while they were fast asleep.

For the first few weeks, the experiment began in a controlled manner, strictly monitored by my mother's team.

They filled the walls with some kinds of gases at night and injected potions into the weak bloods through mutated plants and swarms of stinging insects.

My mother was happy with the results. Although no one could activate their immortality genes, hundreds of weak bloods reacted positively to her treatment plan. However, there were many that showed no change in their DNA whatsoever. And Ezra was one of them.

My mother could feel Alpha Deimos' increasing frustration because he was obsessed with Ezra's reports that remained the same day in, day out. And one day, his frustration exploded in the form of bombs across the colonies, taking thousands of lives in a blink of an eye.

When my mother came to know about it, she confronted Alpha Deimos.

'Why did you do it!? Everything was going smoothly? Why did you interfere with my treatment plan? Thousands of weak bloods lost their lives and hundreds of them had the potential to activate their immortality genes! This wasn't the goal of this experiment-'

'Do you think I give a fuck about your damn experiment?' Alpha Deimos said calmly, almost sounding like Asher. 'I wouldn't have looked in your direction if it wasn't for my son. Those weak bloods died because I wanted them dead. Let's get one thing clear, Starsoul... if my son will not come out of those walls as an immortal, no one else will-'

'Are you out of your fucking mind? This is mad! This is madness-' My mother stared at him as though she just realized something, her eyes widening with horror. 'It's the throne! Isn't it? Oh, my goddess! So, it's real!' I looked at Asher, my heart pounding violently in my chest. "Throne madness?"

"A madness that forces the Alpha sitting on the Obsidian throne to create powerful heirs for it," Asher said.

'Your throne-madness has blinded you. Why can't you see how many possible immortals you are killing every day? All you care about is producing stronger heirs for your throne. Isn't that why you have three wives?'

'I'm ignoring a lot of things about you, Starsoul. Like the celestial weak blood you smuggled into my pack and into this experiment. There are some things you'll ignore if you want me to keep ignoring that kid.' Alpha Deimos' words were gentle and maybe that was why his threat cut through deeper.

"Celestial kid? Could it be Alpha Caelum's son?" I asked.

"Most likely," Asher said, focused on the memory. "Weak bloods and Fortunates are essentially the same, which means they can move freely across all three realms. Without immortality, demon wolves, or celestial wolves, they bypass security systems undetected. They're not considered a threat in any realm. That's why even the souls of weak bloods who die in the Infernal realm are taken to the Celestial realm, while some Fortunate souls end up in Hell."

'I want you to look at Ezra's and the survivor's results. They show better results, faster than your treatment plan,' Alpha Deimos said. 'Your celestial kid is safe as long as Ezra keeps showing these results. Keep that in mind while you curate a new treatment plan, Starsoul.'

After that day, the weak bloods were deliberately put into life and death situations.

"What happened beyond the walls remained beyond the walls. The lives went on normally in the pack while the weak blood fought to survive every second of their lives..." Asher said.

The memories became vague, one blending into another abruptly. It was as though my mother's attention was on several places at the same time. But most of her focus was on Ezra and the celestial kid, whose face was blurred out in mother's memories.

They unleashed hellhounds in the dead of night, their snarls mingling with screams and cries that echoed hauntingly through the walls. Ezra could only watch as his group being eaten alive as they sacrificed themselves to protect him and Ellery.

By day, his torment shifted to the desperate struggle for food, water, and medicines to heal Ellery's wounds. I could see the weight of survival on his face and it kept pressing heavier with each passing moment.

They deliberately sowed discord among the groups that had formed. The weak bloods from other Infernal packs began to demonize those from the Prime pack, convinced that the atrocities would cease if they eliminated every weak blood from the Prime pack.

The controllers frequently singled out groups of weak bloods, forcing them into perilous situations before kidnapping the survivors under the cover of night. These survivors were subjected to experiments, injected with various drugs, and then sent back within the walls.

Most died, but those who survived displayed unsettling symptoms like aggression, cannibalism, hallucinations, hysteria, lunacy, and even auto-cannibalism.

Ezra and Ellery had endured the same torment several times. Yet, somehow, they held on, persevering alongside the celestial kid. It was torture just watching them live in those conditions. I can't even fathom what they'd have actually gone through.

The experiment was already fucked up enough, but it kept getting worse day by day and it went on for months.

With rotting bodies left in the open, there was no sanitation, no privacy. Sleep deprivation had transformed every survivor into a ticking time bomb, ready to erupt into inhumane violence at the slightest provocation. People fought to the death over a single loaf of bread. The drinking water was contaminated, and all food supplies within the walls had either been burned or hoarded by the dominant groups. Starvation claimed many lives, thirst consumed others, and some chose to end their own sufferings. Gloom and death hung heavy over the desolate grounds.

My mother's memories began jittery, unstable, and random. They were all over the place as though she was falling apart mentally.

'Everything's slipping away from my hands-'

'All is ruined-'

'I can't save them anymore-'

'I want to go home-'

Mother had lost all control over the experiment.

On Alpha Deimos's orders, her team took over the project, leaving her with no choice but to remain involved, merely monitoring her subjects from the sidelines.

But she wasn't the only one who just helplessly watched everything fall apart.

In one of her memories, I saw a sixteen-year-old Raven sitting alone on a stool in an isolated room. He was surrounded by vast screens that showed everything that had happened within the walls.

"That was Raven's punishment for helping a few weak bloods escape beyond the walls to avoid their execution. Father forced him to watch the entire experiment for months, locking him up in that room," Asher said.

In fleeting glances, my mother watched Raven in the isolation room where he sat like a statue, his petrified eyes glued to Ezra.

"Father brainwashed Raven into believing that whatever happened with Ezra and all the weak bloods within those walls was Raven's fault. And to this date, he blames himself for everything. Just like you, he carries a guilt that isn't his," Asher said.

The experiments went on for seven months and by the end, over ninety percent of the weak bloods were dead, their decaying bodies scattered across the ground like a macabre carpet.

My mother's attention had shifted entirely from the celestial child to Ezra. Perhaps the child had died or killed or taken out of the experiment. I couldn't tell because he never showed up again in the memories.

Ezra resorted to stealing food from the other groups at night. But even that supply eventually ran out, and soon, famine spread like plague, claiming more lives.

Ezra and Ellery sought refuge on the thick branch of the last standing barren beech tree. The ground below was soaked in blood, not an inch left untouched by the genocide. Ellery, too weak and injured to move, stayed behind while Ezra ventured out, scavenging whatever scraps he could find.

Then an announcement echoed through the walls, shattering the haunting silence of death.

'The gate number one will open for the last survivor.'

The announcement came as a hope to the survivors. Everyone with even the faintest trace of life left in them began dragging themselves toward the gate.

With his emaciated body, Ezra carried Ellery on his back, trudging through the bloody mire of lifeless bodies as quickly as his frail form allowed. He stumbled and fell, every movement trembling with exhaustion. I saw it in his sunken eyes, in his parched skin and cracked lips - there was no life left in him to keep going. Yet he pushed forward... for Ellery.

My chest heaved as a sharp, excruciating pain swelled within me. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my frozen cheeks as I collapsed to my knees.

It hurt.

Every fragment of my soul hurt, as though I were the one dying on Ezra's back.

Ezra's voice, though weak and broken, carried through the memories, each word cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Hang in there, Ellery. We're almost there. We'll make it..."