After returning from the office, Pinaka ran through the prison, leaping between floors as he trained, getting his body used to the parkour skills he'd learned back on Earth. By evening, he’d shifted his appearance to look like one of the Elves from Hexagon 21 and wandered the fields, using the crops as cover.

  He always did this around the time the Elves came back to the prison. Casually, he started practicing his Spells. The reason he could be so relaxed was simple—he knew the guards’ shift schedule now.

  The day shift soldiers on the walls were clocking out, and the night shift ones were showing up one by one. Security was always the loosest during lunch and twilight—perfect windows to get stuff done without drawing attention.

  Pinaka conjured a replica of his own head. “Yo!”

  “…Yaaaw…” came the lazy reply as he broke it apart and reformed it again, repeating the process over and over. Each time, the copy got a little better, the brain a bit sharper.

  Night fell. Pinaka crept toward the office. The door was locked, but there wasn’t a keyhole—because that would've been dumb.

  An Elf with a chunk of wood could’ve shaped it into a makeshift key. Escaping like that was way too easy. After one Elf had tried pulling that off, they changed the locking system.

  Now it was just a thick metal latch, welded shut. Humans, with their Authority over fire, could unseal it easily by cranking the heat until the welding melted. Rachad handled that every morning.

  There was a narrow gap between the door and the latch. Pinaka could grow a tree inside it and let the expanding trunk force it open. But that would wreck both the door and the latch—and it’d be loud. ‘Too loud. It'll alert them to my presence.’

  Up on the second floor, where the soldiers’ canteen was located, he could hear their muffled chatter and the clinking of cutlery. ‘No way I can break in without causing a scene.’

  ‘I wanted to go through the documents in peace tonight,’ Pinaka sighed. He slipped back into Hexagon 21, which, technically speaking, didn’t have a door. All the entrances to the farmlands were left open, which worked in his favor.

  ‘They kept it open on purpose.’ A caged bird wouldn’t try to fly if its wings were pricked with a hot needle every time it spread them. Even if the cage door was left wide open, it wouldn't dare take off.

  That option had been erased—even from its subconscious. ‘That’s where the Elves are now. Even the young ones don’t try anything. They know they’ll be punished.’

  Pinaka only dared because he had the means to stand his ground, no matter the situation. Whether it was his disguise, his agility, or his Creation Factor, he had options—ways to move safely and stay unnoticed. Most importantly, he was a ghost in the system.

  On paper, he was dead. Which meant no one was keeping an eye out for him.

  Once the soldiers finished their dinner, they made their way to the fourth floor to sleep. The stairs leading up were on the ground floor—but the entrance to them was locked shut behind that same welded metal latch.

  A dimness settled over the place as, one by one, the Humans switched off their lights. Pinaka went back to training, mostly focused on making the replicated head speak. He needed to know if his clones could wield Authority.

  Time passed like that, until Pinaka snapped to attention at the sound of the metal latch unlocking. He quietly peeked out from the entrance of Hexagon 21 and spotted a soldier stepping out of the office, holding a small Sun Stone. An Elf followed close behind, pushing a cart loaded with food.

  ‘Oh, I get it now! That’s the missing Elf!’

  Everything clicked. There were 216 Elves working the fields—six assigned to each Hexagon. One group worked the potion factory, and one Elf served as the Humans’ cook.

  This Elf prepared all kinds of meals for them, working in the kitchen alongside a Human. As a cook, he was spared the whippings and most of the abuse the others had to endure.

  After the Humans finished dinner, the Elf spent the rest of his time cleaning up. And when it was time for the Elves to eat, he delivered their meals, escorted by a guard.

  “There are three groups we need to watch,” the Elf said as he pushed the cart. “Since Raepekka killed himself, his group completely lost the will to escape.”

  “Keep your eyes on them,” the soldier replied, voice sharp. “If they so much as think about trying again, let me know right away.”

  “Yes,” the Elf nodded. The way he spoke so casually made it clear—he was treated well by the Humans. And to protect that comfort in this twisted world, he was more than willing to betray his own kind—and keep doing it.

  Of course! Pinaka resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he listened in. Soon enough, their voices faded as they walked farther away. ‘For anyone with sense, escaping is a dumb idea.’

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Even if they managed to pull it off, they'd spend the rest of their lives on the run, constantly dodging Human patrols. Compared to that, being a defector—especially a useful one—was a much better deal.

  ‘He’s first generation,’ Pinaka guessed. The Elf looked slightly older than the rest, just enough to stand out.

  ‘Also, that soldier handing out dinner isn’t Level 2.’ It was subtle, but clear—he was relying on a Sun Stone to producefire. That was valuable info. ‘So only Rachad’s Level 2. If I take him out first, the rest will fall easily.’

  Level 1 Humans without fire were nothing more than sitting ducks. Sun Stones were powerful, but they had limited reserves. The bigger the storage power, the bigger the stone.

  That one the soldier had? Small. It wouldn't last long. ‘I can handle it. And if I throw around enough tender wood, all he’ll get is smoke—not flames.’

  Ten sharp claps rang out from the soldier, and the Elves quickly assembled on the ground floor. Once dinner was done, the soldier and the older Elf returned to the office, locked it back up, and turned in for the night.

  Ha! Got it. Pinaka mentally jotted down the pattern. ‘The office door stays unlocked during the Elves' dinner.’

  So now he had two windows: Human lunchtime and Elf dinnertime. ‘Not too long, but not too short either.’

  Reading in the dark wasn’t a problem for Pinaka. It was just paper, and with his Authority, he could sense the faint texture differences where ink had been applied. The moment he touched it, a mental image formed in his mind—every raised mark, every indentation.

  It wasn’t as convenient as reading under a light, but it worked.

  The prison was dead silent as Pinaka made his way back to the central pillar. He climbed up and rolled his clone into a sphere. Then, carefully, he stashed it in his butt.

  —Ouch!

  He’d accidentally poked a few pain receptors and had to fight back a gasp. Once he was in place at the potion factory post, he controlled the Root Gloves to slither across his body, flatten out, and tuck themselves beneath the skin of his stomach.

  Flesh or skin—it didn’t matter. Under his will, they behaved like softened butter, allowing him to store or retrieve things with ease. That’s how he’d embedded the fang into his chest so smoothly. He needed the Root Gloves for climbing the pillar, so when he was done, he stored them inside himself.

  The potion factory clone wasn’t much different from a blown-up balloon. It let him wander freely through most of the day. As long as he returned by this time at night, he was in the clear. This was the only time anyone even bothered to glance at the potion factory.

  The deflated clone stayed tucked safely in his butt, flattened against the wall and hidden from sight. No one ever noticed the slightly enhanced 'definition' of his rear—nothing compared to Prichka’s anyway.

  ‘Ah, they’re here!’ Pinaka’s heart rate jumped as he spotted six Humans striding in. They entered through the tunnel that ran beneath the wall between Hexagons 5 and 6.

  Pinaka knew where the Humans had entered from—but not what they were up to beyond that. ‘Tonight, I’m tailing them!’

  —Argh!

  Once the Humans finished their prep, the grey-robed one climbed to the top of the ladder. He pulled out a World Tree Fruit and, using a tool to pry open Pinaka’s mouth, dropped it in.

  ‘You’re being TAXED!’ Pinaka shouted internally. As the fruit dropped into his stomach, a hidden pair of canines snapped down and bit off a tenth of it. That chunk was immediately sealed away inside a small wood capsule, while the rest of the fruit was left to digest.

  ‘It… HURTS!’

  Every time the fang jabbed into his heart, his consciousness wavered. For a few seconds, he teetered on the edge of death—only held together by the World Tree Fruit’s healing effects. ‘As expected of a Relic. Its power is insane!’

  That was Level 3 Elf power—regeneration. When Pinaka's soul had first come to Gangnea, he’d watched the Elf King regenerate endlessly while burning in a sea of fire.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll unlock a new Factor at Level 3,’ Pinaka thought. ‘It’ll be the Regeneration Factor. And the higher it goes, the faster I heal.’

  He wanted that. Badly. And it wasn’t some unreachable dream. If an Elf ate enough World Tree Fruit—and wasn’t completely useless—they had a shot at Level 3. As his awareness flickered in and out, Pinaka's desire only grew stronger.

  This prison was his best shot. Here, he could get a World Tree Fruit every single day.

  ‘But for now… stay focused.’

  As the fang absorbed the blood straight from his heart, Pinaka activated his Creation Factor of Lifeform, generating fresh blood right inside the heart. It was just normal blood, but he carefully mixed it with the blood infused with the healing properties of the World Tree Fruit.

  In total volume, about a tenth of it was regular blood. He made sure the mixture was even, so each container would carry a balanced blend. ‘The healing effect will stay consistent.’

  A Level 2 Elf could digest a World Tree Fruit more efficiently, making their blood more potent. That’s why Pinaka had taken up the role of the potion factory. The end result would be just like before—but every day, he was siphoning off a tenth of the fruit for himself.

  ‘That means, every ten days, I’m getting a whole fruit!’ Even through the pain, Pinaka was almost giddy with excitement. If the apparatus hadn’t kept his mouth forced open, the grey-robed Human probably would’ve jumped back in fear at the sight of his grin.

  If there was such a thing as a devil’s smile—this was it.

  “Twenty-two litres. Sweet,” the team leader said, satisfied, as they began packing up. Four of them headed off first, while two stayed behind to wipe down the pillar and clean up any spilled blood.

  Once they were gone, Pinaka peeled himself off the pillar, set the clone in his place, and dropped silently to the ground. Moving with careful, padded steps, he trailed after the group. ‘So it’s this team that handles the World Tree Fruits. No wonder I couldn’t find anything about it in Rachad’s cabin.’

  …

  Gangnea Daily – Article #30

  When an Elf reaches Level 3, they gain the ability to recover from virtually any injury. As a result, the urgency to train disappears. With no fear of lasting harm, most Elves stop pushing their limits, and their stats stagnate from that point onward.

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