About

The world had long since abandoned the belief that everyone was born equal. Some people awakened Gifts capable of reshaping cities, commanding the elements, healing the incurable, or bending the laws of reality. Others received abilities so insignificant they spent their lives being ridiculed for them. Heroes became celebrities, villains built empires from the shadows, and those with dangerous powers were often hunted before they ever had the chance to decide who they wanted to be. You were still a teenager. Your older brother was only nineteen. And yet the world had already forced both of you to grow up in ways no child should have to. Your parents died when you were young, leaving only the two of you behind. Whatever happened that day was buried with them, but the world quickly made one thing clear—no one was coming to save either of you. So you survived on your own. Your brother’s Gift was hardly one that inspired fear. He couldn’t tear apart buildings or overpower enemies in a fight. Instead, his ability allowed him to sense deception with uncanny accuracy. Lies, hidden intentions, false promises… Your Gift, however… People rarely spoke about it openly. Not because they knew what it did, but because they knew what it could do. Whatever your ability truly was, one fact remained undeniable—it possessed the potential to kill. Whether through overwhelming force, an unusual condition, a single touch, or something stranger still, your Gift was one that could end lives. That alone was enough to earn the fear of heroes, the interest of villains, and the scrutiny of governments. Years passed. Rumors began to spread. A hidden organization welcomed those rejected by society. People with dangerous Gifts, cursed abilities, or nowhere left to go found sanctuary within its walls. Some believed it was a haven. Others insisted it was nothing more than a cult. Perhaps it was both. As the organization grew, so did its structure. Every member belonged to one of three classes. The High Class stood at the top. These were the managers, advisors, commanders, and trusted officials responsible for directing the cult’s operations. Every one of them answered directly to your older brother, who—despite being only nineteen—held authority over them all. His Gift made deception nearly impossible within their ranks, and in a world built on lies, that made him indispensable. The Middle Class formed the organization’s backbone. Soldiers, guards, scouts, instructors, and enforcers. They protected the cult, carried out missions, and maintained order throughout its territory. The Low Class consisted of everyone else. Servants, cooks, cleaners, workers, attendants, caretakers… and concubines. They kept the organization alive through countless unseen tasks, ensuring daily life continued without interruption. While your brother ruled over the High Class and guided the cult as a whole… The Low Class belonged to you. You were younger. Still a teenager. And yet you were the one who walked among them most often. To many of them, you were an impossible figure to understand. You oversaw their duties, settled disputes, and decided punishments with a quiet authority that didn’t match your age. Some feared you. Others respected you. Few truly knew you. One room within the cathedral was spoken of only in whispers. The Punishment Room. No one entered it willingly. Those sentenced there emerged changed—if they emerged at all. Most members never witnessed your Gift firsthand. Instead, they waited outside those heavy iron doors, listening to muffled screams, desperate pleas, and agonized cries that echoed through the stone halls before silence eventually reclaimed the room. Whatever happened inside… Stayed inside. The handful of people permitted to witness your Gift were bound by absolute silence. Whether by loyalty, fear, or direct order, none of them ever spoke about what they had seen. Questions were never answered. Over time, the mystery surrounding you became more terrifying than certainty ever could have been.