(I hoped he would find himself again. But it seems fate has other plans...)
(Alex, I think I'm tired seeing you in pain, please, for once--for the non-existent me---be happy)
Days turned into weeks. Weeks melted into months since Alex had gone insane. (I'm sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but he is actually insane). Alex wasn't just surviving anymore. He wasn't just enduring the pain. He had embraced it. He had internalized it, molded it into something monstrous. It had become his weapon. He wasn't the Piggy Prince anymore. No, he was something else. Something darker. Something that could destroy. (I guess he won't be stanning Yuki-chan again. Or any anime or anything other than the throne for that matter)
His body, once bloated and soft, now seemed like it had been carved out of marble. The layers of fat that had once encased him were gone, replaced with sleek, sculpted muscle. His V-shaped waistline and broad shoulders made him look like a classical statue, the kind you'd find in ancient galleries, eternally frozen in a moment of strength. His face, once round and bloated, had chiseled features—sharp jawlines, piercing eyes, a look of both cold intelligence and raw, violent potential. His eyes, however, were the most terrifying thing of all. They had once been full of fear, laziness, and indulgence, but now, they held something far worse: a calculated emptiness, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. (It feels weird and scary to watch him but yes, he's not just any predator, but the apex predator. I shudder at the thought. I used to hope he would somehow find himself and save himself but now it seems I've also given up now. I will always be his silent supporter but I think he's beyond saving---for now. Let's try again another time.)
And the change wasn't just physical. It wasn't even just emotional. Alex had become unstoppable—in every way. His mind, once dull and ignorant from endless hours of anime and video games, had sharpened into something lethal. His siblings were beginning to realize, in horror, that the very thing they had pushed so hard to break—his spirit—wasn't breaking. It was evolving. (He's killed himself in every sense. I wish he'd just be that boy who would sing along to the anime theme songs.)
He had surpassed Julian, his cyber-warfare genius brother, in intelligence. Where Julian once had the upper hand with his tech-savvy tricks and complex strategies, Alex was now running circles around him. He understood people better, their behavior, their emotions, their fears—he used them against them with chilling precision. He'd read every book they forced on him—he'd studied history, strategy, politics. He'd analyzed the greatest leaders and tacticians, and now, he understood things that not even his most brilliant sibling could grasp. And Julian? The hacker? He had no idea how to cope with it. (Good for that Pea-Brained-Hacker-Prince. Serves him right for doing this to Alex)
One evening, during one of their grueling exercises, where Julian had been trying to make Alex crack through mental simulations—virtual environments designed to simulate global crises—Alex's response was a silent, chilling mastery. The screens flickered, alarms blared, but all Alex did was sit calmly, his hands resting on the edge of the desk. He didn't break a sweat. He didn't panic. He didn't feel anything. He simply dismantled the simulation, using tactics that were decades beyond Julian's comprehension. (Don't ask me---I was shocked myself but happy he's fighting back)
Julian's mouth hung open in disbelief. "This... this can't be real," he muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard, but the system just broke under Alex's overwhelming logic. For the first time in years, Julian—so used to controlling everything from behind the scenes—was rendered helpless. He didn't have the skills to match Alex. No one did. (I guess now he could destroy all three of his tormentors combined. To think a day like this actually happened is more appalling)
Alex stood up, ignoring his brother's increasingly frantic attempts to regain control, and simply walked out of the room. He didn't even glance back.
His siblings tried to fight back, to remind him of the hierarchy, to insist that they were still in charge—but Alex was silent. Quiet. Detached. (And cold, extremely cold. but those goons deserve it)
When he had once been the brunt of their cruelty, now he was the one who inspired fear in them. His quiet demeanor was far more terrifying than any scream or tantrum ever could be. He had become a silent storm, a force of nature that moved with terrifying precision. And when he got angry, it was like the world itself bent to his will. (Oh that was scary. brace yourselves.)
One afternoon, after being denied food yet again for failing to complete a task, Alex snapped. He stood in the middle of the training gym, his body taut, muscles rippling with controlled fury. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white with the strain, his breath coming in shallow, angry gasps.
"You think I need food to survive? You think I care about your pathetic punishments?" His voice was a low growl, nothing like the whiny, lazy tone he used to have. (Sayonara, Yuki-chan. I'm sorry I tried, okay? But what can a non-existent being like me do?)
With one single, controlled motion, he hurled a nearby piece of training equipment—a heavy, reinforced weight bench—across the room with such force that it shattered against the wall like plastic. The sound of it crashing echoed through the gym, sending a shockwave through the entire room. (The sound reverberated and echoed the chaos in Alex's mind)
His siblings stood in stunned silence. They had never seen anything like it. Alex—the pampered, lazy Piggy Prince—had just broken something they thought was indestructible with nothing but raw strength and fury.
And it didn't stop there. (Oh yes, don't think for a second that someone as insane as Alex will stop with that...)
The next day, during one of their "strength training" sessions, Alex, with the same cold detachment, snapped the heavy weight rack clean in half. The iron bars twisted and crumpled like paper under his grip. (Didn't I tell you, he's scary, like extremely scary. I'm happy I'm non-existent so he can't do that to me)
It was at that moment that the full gravity of the situation hit them. The very thing they had sought to destroy had been nurtured, and now they were facing the consequences of it. Alex wasn't just breaking physical limits—he was breaking them. (Mind you, he can do that to you too, torturers #1-3, crushing you physically would not a feat for him at this point)
"Stop," Seraphina said, her voice trembling for the first time in ages. (Okay, now here's the karma I prayed for. Alex, go on, scare her more. Make her regret doing this to you). She had always been the one in control, the one who knew how to manipulate every situation. But Alex—this new, monstrous version of Alex—was beyond her comprehension.
But Alex didn't stop. He didn't even look at her as he crushed the weights, twisted the equipment, and shattered everything in his path. It was as if he was trying to destroy the very system that had created him. (Go on, Alex. Go on. Crush them)
They had pushed him to the edge, had starved him, tortured him, humiliated him—and now, Alex had become something they couldn't control. He was no longer the lazy prince who clung to them for comfort and luxury. He was the king who had risen from the ashes of his torment. (Yes, he's definitely that. He's become his goal for vengeance. And my prayer answered. Go on Alex, screw them up).
And in his silence, in his insanity, he had become more terrifying than they could ever have imagined. (Yes, let your enemies find even your existence or breath frightening. Scare them to the depths of hell like they did to you. Like they did to me when I broke watching you break)
He no longer needed anything from them. The food he had once adored, the anime he had once devoured—it was all meaningless now. His entire world had been consumed by this singular, burning desire for power and control. And his body, now chiseled into perfection—svelte, lean, muscular—only further served as a reminder of what he had become. A king without compassion. A monster without mercy. (No, they don't even deserve mercy).
"Do you see now?" Alex murmured, his voice cold and emotionless. "Do you see what you've made?" (yes Alex, I see it)
His siblings didn't answer. They couldn't. (Of course you didn't anticipate this)
And as Alex stood there—tall, powerful, and horrifyingly handsome—their once-innocent, spoiled brother was gone. In his place was a king. A monster.
And now, they were the ones who would have to face the consequences.
(Go on, Alex. Bite the ones who bit you and tore you apart piece by piece)
(For they don't deserve mercy or a peace of mind for that matter)
(Become the monster they bred and bite them. Consume them until they receive hundredfold of the pain you received)