Chapter 12 : Protagonist isn't omnipotent 1
Life was cruel. Brutally so.
To think it would all come to this. Nafees, once full of dreams and defiance, now sat crumpled on the cold stone floor like discarded ash after the flame had died. Deserted. Lifeless. Nothing but the echo of his own breath to remind him he still existed.
His hands trembled. Not from the cold, but from something deeper. Emptiness.
Then, footsteps.
Soft. Steady. Confident.
A man entered. Cloaked in dusk colored robes, his gaze calm yet sharp. He was Makaram.
"I spoke to the branch leader," Makaram said, voice low but clear.
"He is willing to give you a chance. If you are still breathing, that is. Join us."
For a moment, silence swallowed the space between them. Nafees blinked, unsure if he had heard right.
Then...
"Yes..." he choked out, his voice raw.
"Yes. I accept it. Please... take me under your wing. I will do anything."
No hesitation. No pride left to protect.
Because his life was in danger. And this was a sliver of hope in a world that had long since turned its back on him.
Makaram raised an eyebrow.
"Huh," he muttered, half amused, half surprised.
"Did not think you would say yes that easily. You have got that look… like someone who has seen the bottom of the abyss."
Nafees lowered his gaze.
In reality he had seen the abyss.
And now, maybe… just maybe… he would climb out of it.
"But for us to trust you, you need to eat this."
Makaram reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
Nafees leaned forward instinctively, but then his eyes widened.
"…What…?"
In the center of Makaram's gloved palm writhed a black centipede. Its body pulsed with a faint, oily sheen, legs twitching as if eager to crawl into darkness.
Nafees felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He did not know what it was, but every instinct screamed that this was not something meant to be eaten. Not by humans.
"What is this, sir?"
Makaram smirked slightly, the corners of his lips curling upward with an unsettling calm.
"Oh, this bug. It's called Nashta'ul."
he said, as if speaking of a common herb.
He tilted his hand slightly, letting the centipede slither across his palm. Its legs scraped softly against the leather like whispers in a tomb.
"If you eat this… you will obey our command. No exceptions."
Nafees remained silent, his breath caught in his throat.
Makaram's eyes narrowed.
"If you ever try to betray us, if a single thought of rebellion flickers in your mind…" He leaned closer, the insect now inches from Nafees's face.
"..."
"Your heart will be crushed. Instantly. By this very bug."
"!!!"
The centipede's body twitched again, as if it hungered for the chance.
Nafees swallowed hard. The weight of the moment pressed down on him like stone.
It was slavery. But it was also survival.
And for someone who had already been abandoned by the world… survival was still a reason to breathe.
Slowly, he extended his hand.
"I… I understand."
Nafees held the writhing centipede in his trembling hand.
His breath trembled. He shut his eyes, tilted his head back, and forced the creature into his mouth.
It squirmed.
Its legs scratched the inside of his throat as it went down alive, fighting every inch of the way.
Then he swallowed.
The moment Nafees swallowed the bug, a searing coldness ran down his throat. For a second, it felt as if nothing happened.
Then, agony.
A sudden, stabbing pain erupted in his chest.
"Ah!" he gasped, clutching his heart. His knees buckled. The room spun.
It felt like his ribs were caving in, like something was gnawing at his heart from within. He could feel the creature moving, twisting, anchoring itself to him.
Makaram watched in silence. Unflinching.
Nafees collapsed to the ground, his fingers clawing at the floor. Every beat of his heart sent lightning through his veins. It was not just pain. It was control sinking into him, thread by thread.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped.
Nafees lay still, drenched in sweat, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His eyes were wide, staring at nothing.
Swish..
Two masked figures emerged from the shadows, their movements swift and quiet.
"Move him" Makaram ordered. "Let him rest. He will need it."
The figures lifted Nafees carefully, his body limp, mind barely conscious.
As they carried him down the dim corridor, everything blurred. Flickering torches. Cold stone. Faint whispers.
Finally, they entered another room, a narrow space with no windows, only a simple bed and a basin of water.
They placed him down and left without a word.
The door locked behind them with a heavy click.
Nafees lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Inside his chest, the centipede stirred once more.
And for the first time, he was no longer alone in his own body.