Year 2050

  Month 5

  The Arena: Day 90

  Silver walls stretched before each side of Dante. The only decoration in this hall was the soft blue lights and the smooth silver that fluidly reflected his image as he walked, distorting it slightly with each step.

  It has been a long three months.

  To be honest, I wasn’t sure that three whole months would have even been enough to pass the Arena with how things were going.

  There were others more skilled than me, stronger, faster, smarter, even more cunning.

  Dante’s footsteps echoed in the silent passage. His mind drifted back to his first failure—a tactical error that still frustrated him when he dwelled on it.

  That damned ring. I almost had it. Almost passed the test. It was in my hand. But I underestimated the others. I suppose the Mercier name made me arrogant but now I understand why some of the children of the arena don’t cower before my siblings.

  He remembered the chaos of that final phase, five opponents converging on him simultaneously, each one intent on claiming the prize he’d secured. He’d managed to fend off three before the fourth created an opening for the fifth.

  Some of them were true monsters.

  One of the girls there, only 15 years old, was taking on four even five others at the same time.

  She sure kicked my ass…

  Twice…

  I’m so glad she graduated that second time, or else I would never have passed.

  Though even without her the second time wouldn’t have been easy. I learned from my mistake and let that other guy get the ring first, and it worked but then phase four…

  Phase Four. The simulated environment had shifted into something nightmarish—a crumbling cityscape where the rules of engagement had changed entirely. No longer just a competition against the other participants, but against the Arena itself. Traps, collapsing structures, and manufactured catastrophes had awaited at every turn.

  His third attempt had been different. He’d secured the ring, and he ran. Analyzing the environment, identifying advantages. When cornered on a rooftop, he’d used a metal pipe not just as a weapon, but as leverage—creating openings to escape more often than just fighting head-on. Survival became his strategy.

  Every skill he’d learned in those months came together—the parkour-like movements needed just to navigate the Arena’s daily obstacles, the combat techniques from countless sparring sessions, the quick tactical thinking from those endless simulations. He moved through the urban maze like a shadow, fighting only when necessary.

  But in truth…

  I got lucky.

  He thought to himself.

  With the skill of the others, he knew there was no other way.

  Dante’s thoughts cut off abruptly as he reached the end of the corridor. Before him stood a silver door as smooth and seamless as the walls. Only the small black panel on the right which began to scan his now placed hand.

  Mr. O mentioned I’d been given top clearance to all Mercier facilities.

  The scanner pulsed green. A subtle hiss of air accompanied the door as it slid sideways into the wall, revealing the chamber beyond.

  The silver hall transformed with Dante’s next step as he entered a room with stone floors inlaid with circuitry patterns, wooden paneling alongside holographic displays and leather-bound books sharing shelves with data drives.

  Alexander didn’t turn as Dante entered. His gaze was fixed ahead—at the armor.

  It stood in a glass case near the far wall, resting upright like a silent sentinel. Midnight-black plating reflected none of the room’s ambient light. The Mercier sword resting in his grip.

  “Dante,” Alexander said without turning. “You’ve finally passed. Congratulations.”

  …

  A moment passed with nothing but the quiet hum of the room as Dante waited for Alexander to continue. His eyes wandered briefly to the side of the room, noticing for the first time a small fish tank on the side. Golden fish swimming lazily through the crystal-clear water.

  Strange. I never expected him to keep fish. Or at least not in a small tank I would have imagined a large villain looking wall aquarium thing maybe with sharks or something.

  “I won’t waste time, Dante,” Alexander said abruptly, cutting off Dante’s thoughts. “You will be the heir to the Mercier family.”

  The statement hung in the air, direct and uncompromising.

  “What?” Dante couldn’t hide his shock. “That’s... that makes no sense. I have no real achievements beyond passing the Arena, and even there, I’m sure at least Katarina had better scores than me.” He shook his head. “Besides, I don’t even want it.”

  Alexander remained silent, his expression unchanged as he studied Dante. The pause stretched uncomfortably long.

  …

  Seriously? Another awkward silence at this point he is just doing this for dramatic effect.

  “There are things you don’t know, Dante,” Alexander finally said. “Things that make you uniquely qualified. Each of your siblings will be of use to you in their own way, but none of them have what it takes.”

  “What things?” Dante asked, confusion evident in his voice. “What could possibly make me more suitable than any of them?”

  “I took all of them to Lazarus,” Alexander replied. “Yet none of them gained it. Which means it must be you.”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  Gained what? What is he talking about? This sounds like some lazy plot armor scenario.

  Dante’s confusion was clearly shown in his expression, but Alexander offered no immediate clarification. Instead, another long pause followed, his violet eyes never leaving Dante’s face.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” Dante muttered, his patience wearing thin. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

  “You’re adopted, Dante.”

  The words only further confused Dante.

  “What... what do you mean?” Dante asked, feeling overwhelmed.

  Alexander’s reply didn’t come immediately.

  …

  Dante barely noticed his mind spinning.

  Heir?

  Adopted?

  What in the…

  Alexander suddenly doubled over, a violent cough wracking his body.

  Blood spattered onto the floor, bright crimson against the stone.

  Dante looked up and moved forward instinctively, but Alexander held up a hand, stopping him.

  “Stay where you are,” he commanded, straightening with visible effort. He wiped blood from his lips with a handkerchief. “As you can see, I am dying. I have been for quite sometime. This is why there is no longer anytime you must become the heir.”

  “That doesn’t change anything,” Dante said, still reeling from the revelations. “Being adopted, your illness—neither of these makes me want to lead the family. I refuse.”

  Alexander’s expression hardened. “You have no choice in this matter. The wheels are already in motion.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Dante countered.

  “Not in this.” Alexander turned back to the armor. “You may leave now. We’ll discuss specifics another time, when you’ve had a chance to process what I’ve told you.”

  “Wait, you can’t just—”

  “You’re dismissed, Dante.”

  The finality in Alexander’s tone made it clear that the conversation was over. Dante stood there a moment longer, frustration and confusion battling within him, before turning and leaving the room without another word.

  ...

  One year later

  The sleek black car moved silently through the countryside, its tinted windows revealing nothing of the occupants within. Dante stared out at the passing landscape, the rolling hills and scattered trees a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind.

  One year. One year since that conversation with Alexander had upended everything he thought he knew about himself.

  Adopted. The word changed everything about his life. He was not a Mercier, then who was he? Is that why he had felt like he didn’t belong? Such questions were played back and forth in his mind countless times.

  After the initial shock had worn off, he’d spent weeks trying to uncover any details about his biological parents, only to find…

  Nothing at all.

  No trace of anything.

  Dante did not have the courage to ask his mother, the thought of asking Katarina came across his mind. As did the thought of her locking him up in some weird sex dungeon if she ever learned he was adopted. The second thought won in the decision to not tell her.

  Dante glanced at the thin man sitting across from him, Mr. O’s attention focused on a tablet in his lap, wire-rimmed glasses catching the light as he scrolled through documents. Even now, with Alexander three months in his grave, Mr. O maintained his customary professional distance.

  Alexander. The man who had raised him, tested him, pushed him to his limits—but never truly shown him a father’s love. The complex emotions surrounding his death still hadn’t fully resolved themselves in Dante’s mind. There had been no deathbed reconciliation, no tearful goodbyes. Just the clinical announcement that Alexander Mercier had succumbed to his illness, followed by business-like preparations for the funeral.

  But Dante’s biggest change was Samantha.

  Her kindness was no longer that of a siblings now that he knew the truth and he found himself dreaming and fantasising of her.

  Lucian had disappeared as well. Dante would have been worried if not for mysterious letters that held recordings.

  Apparently Lucian had found something big and it would take time to unravel. Lucian’s last recording had joked that even if a zombie apocalypse had hit he would still be strong enough to stand tall as a king with what was going on.

  Emma and Emmy went to study in another city. Though they had come back for the funeral for a few days, promising they would be back a few months after.

  In the weeks that followed Alexander’s collapse, as the family fractured along predictable lines of ambition and greed, Mr. O had made sure to keep things steady using the strength of the Children of the Arena. The monstrous girl Dante had seen before was there the day Mr. O needed to teach Corso a lesson. That was the day Dante learned her name—Min-Ji, was what Mr. O called her.

  Dante was surprised by how easily she took down Corso. Even after finishing the Arena and continuing his training, he was unsure if he could defeat Corso, much less humiliate him like she did.

  Dante remembered the private will reading. Mr. O had informed him that he now owned everything. Dante explained that he’d already told Alexander he didn’t want any of it.

  But after Mr. O’s relentless insistence, Dante finally told him to give it all to Samantha instead. Mr. O clarified that only the public assets could be transferred—there were certain facilities, he said, that were another matter entirely.

  Dante then told him to take him to one of these facilities. Mr. O simply nodded and said he’d prepare the arrangements and show them to him the following day.

  “We’ve arrived, sir,” the driver announced, pulling Dante from his thoughts.

  The car slowed to a stop. Dante looked out the window, immediately reassessing his expectations. The Lazarus complex was surrounded by a formidable security perimeter—not just walls and checkpoints, but a complete defensive system designed to keep the outside world at bay.

  Beyond the initial security screening, however, the facility revealed itself as something unexpected—a self-contained community built around the “Mercier Pharmaceutical Research Division.” Clinical buildings of glass and steel formed the core, but surrounding them were residential blocks, recreational facilities, and even a small park where Dante could see families with children enjoying the afternoon sun.

  “Our researchers sign extended contracts,” Mr. O explained, following Dante’s gaze. “Ten years minimum commitment in exchange for exceptional compensation that ensures neither they nor there descendants would need to work for a few generations of common living, and the right to bring their families. This area is also in fact Many a privilege—safety and comfort outside the city walls is rare you see. Some families could not enter the new world cities so to reunite with there loved ones they chose to come here.”

  “This is the public face of Lazarus, but were we will go is abit deeper.” Mr. O explained.

  “This way,” Mr. O directed, as they passed through the central complex and approached a building with no windows.

  Inside, instead of a lobby, they found a single elevator. A scanner panel glowed beside it.

  “Your father ensured you would have complete access,” Mr. O explained, stepping back to allow Dante to approach first. “Place your palm on the scanner.”

  Holographic numbers appeared.

  “Access level zero and negative levels,” Mr O called.

  Dante noticed a recessed opening in the wall panel - a cylindrical cavity about the size of his fist, designed for hand insertion.

  Dante looked skeptically at the hand-sized hole in the elevator wall.

  “Now put your hand in.” Mr O instructed.

  “This looks scary. You’re sure this is necessary?” Dante asked.

  “Absolutely. The facility is DNA-locked to you specifically. Even if your DNA were somehow altered, the facility is prepared for it—the scanners recognize genetic markers and has an AI system prepared to analyze any changes and compare with original. On top of that … there are cameras. Lets just say there are many factors taken when allowing you to enter.”

  Dante inserted his hand. A cool sensation washed over his skin, followed by a soft blue light that pulsed once.

  “DNA verification accepted,” announced a computerized voice. "Welcome, Dante Mercier."

  The elevator began to descend, moving faster and deeper than Dante had expected. Suddenly, something extraordinary happened. A bright blue light suddenly materialized before his eyes, forming into a holographic interface unlike anything he’d seen before.

  [Blue System Initializing...]

  [Subject: Dante Mercier]

  [Special Ability Detected: Soul Separation (SSS Rank)]

  [Beginning Calibration...]

  [Welcome… to the beginning of your suffering]