"Hey, Mattie."

    Matthew opened his eyes, finding himself in a cold, dark space. In fact, the air was so cold that he began to shiver and rushed to hug his bare arms.

    "Over here, Mattie."

    That voice...why was it so familiar?

    Matthew frowned. "Hello?"

    "Mattie," The voice said again, this time closer. "Hey, Mattie."

    Matthew spun, trying to search through the darkness to find the source of the voice. "Who are you? What do you want?"

    "You really don't remember me? It's only been three years, Mattie. Are you finally forgetting about your true family?"

    Matthew froze, his heart skipping a beat. He knew that voice. It was Micah. He instantly felt guilt spear him in the stomach. Was he really forgetting the voice of his brother? Had it really been that long?

    "That's a shame," Micah tutted. "But I guess I am proud of you. You're finally moving on. Forging a new family."

    "I'm not forging a new family, Micah, I—"

    Somewhere within himself, he knew that if this was really Micah, he'd know. Something wasn't right. Micah would never talk like that. Sure, he'd taunt and tease him, but never like this. The way he spoke sounded more like Pardus than anyone else.

    "Sure you are, Mattie. With Pardus. He's replacing Fidel and Stephen, me, and Ben. He's your new family. You should be proud of yourself, Mattie, you're finally reaching your full potential. Your true purpo—"

    "Pardus will never be my family. Neither was Fidel and Stephen," Matthew shot back, his voice trembling along with his entire body.

    "Oh, but he is now. Pardus is your new family."

    Matthew saw something move out of his peripheral vision, but when he turned he did not expect to see what he saw. It was a face he'd never forget.

    Micah was standing there, his eyes void of the usual spirit that lived inside of them. His wavy, dark hair was messy and his dark skin seemed unhealthily pale. But what terrified Matthew the most was the fact that he was wearing a ragged shirt with a slowly growing red stain that spread from a patch of blood in the middle of his chest. Matthew had to take a step back, the air sucked from his lungs.

    "You know you don't want to remember this, Mattie," Micah said almost pleadingly. "Forget me. Move on. Find a new family."

    Tears filled Micah's eyes as blood rapidly pooled around his feet, filling the air with a pungent smell. Then, Micah dissolved into a puddle of his own blood, melting away with his tears.

    The temperature in the room slowly warmed. After a minute of complete silence and darkness, Matthew opened his eyes.

    He sat up and blinked, finding himself in the small closet space that he called his bedroom. He reached for his iPod and saw that it was six in the morning. But even though his eyes still burned with drowsiness, he couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep. Instead, he dragged himself out of bed, got dressed, and combed his fingers through his pale hair. He still smelled atrocious, but right now it didn't really matter. He was absolutely starving.

    Before he departed from his room, he secured his iPod in the pocket of his blue and black checkered flannel, then took a stride and opened his door. The servants were the only ones awake at this hour. They crowded the kitchen as they rushed to prepare breakfast for their boss, who would wake at precisely eight, as he always did. That gave Matthew exactly two hours to scavenge for some food and enjoy some time to himself before Pardus would come looking for him. And, after the previous day, Matthew expected him to be in a foul mood.

    Matthew closed the door behind him and milled down the slender hallway, stopping to admire the paintings that hung on the wall. His favorite was an oil painting of a beautiful red fox lounging on a pile of autumn leaves. A slight smile tugged on the corners of his lips, but after a moment, he pulled his attention away from it and proceeded down the rest of the hall to the pair of winding, marble stairs that flanked the foyer.

He tried to ignore the memories from yesterday that crawled into his brain as he approached, but somehow they fought their way through. Matthew knit his brows and rubbed his temples, trying to find something to distract himself with. He stole a glance over at the railing, smirked, and hoisted himself onto it. Then, he released his grip and allowed himself to slide all the way to the bottom of the stairs.

He stumbled off the railing, a slight smile crawling up his face. Though it quickly fell as he heard someone clear their throat.

    "Matthew," A voice scolded.

    Matthew's head shot up, meeting gazes with the butler. He was speechless.

    "What...exactly are you doing?"

    Matthew blinked. "Uh..."

    Before he was pressured to explain himself, Matthew rushed past the butler and followed the smell coming from the kitchen.

    The kitchen staff huddled together, chattering at the doorway as they rushed to prepare breakfast. It felt almost like Matthew was living his life in the shadow of a pampered king.

    As he neared the door, the servant from yesterday, Beatrice, stepped out with a plate of steaming hash browns. Matthew clutched his middle as he felt his stomach knot with hunger, his mouth watering.

    Beatrice stopped when she noticed him. "Good morning, Matthew. What are you doing up so early?"

    "I'm...uh, hungry."

    It came out easier than expected. Beatrice had an air about her that made him want to trust her, but he was still hesitant. She worked for Pardus, as he did. He knew that if pressured, she'd have to feed Pardus information. So if Matthew did something that was remotely disobedient, chances were he'd find out. Pardus's servants were his messengers.

    Beatrice's dark eyes swept him, her expression softening. "Well, that's certainly not good. When was the last time you ate?"

    Matthew didn't respond. Truth was, he didn't know. All he did know was that he hadn't eaten in the past two days and his body was beginning to show it.

    Beatrice thought for a moment before sighing. "If you help me carry these dishes to the dining hall, I'll ration off some food for you. How does that sound?"

    Fantastic, Matthew thought. Right now he'd do just about anything for food, but especially some of those hash browns. He nodded in agreement with her offer.

    "Great, you can start by taking these down there." She handed him the plate, and it took serious willpower not to shove his face into it.

    Beatrice eyed him, reading his hunger-stricken expression. "Resist the urge to snack on the way. I promise you that with patience you'll have as much food as you want."

    Matthew nodded and headed off with the plate, heading down the hallway that led to the dining hall. Unlike the other hallways, this one seemed darker and almost...haunted. Portraits of people Matthew didn't recognize stared down at him with hollow, frozen expressions. A part of him wondered who they were and what relation they had to his boss, but the other part of him didn't have the nerve to ask. Chances were Pardus wouldn't tell him anyway.

    As Matthew headed down the hall, he tried to ignore the anxious feeling that blossomed in his chest as he felt the rows of eyes bearing down on him. It was almost as if their eyes followed, though he knew that it was just an illusion. Or so he told himself.

    When he reached the end of the hall he carefully toed the set of heavy, wooden doors open and used his body to pry them wide enough for him to step through. The dining hall was debatably the most ornate room in the entire estate with draping, crimson silk curtains, giant shining windows, and a golden chandelier that crowned the entire room. And a long, oak dining table took up most of the space, but with reason. Golden candles, bouquets of fresh flowers, and beautiful decorations were carefully placed upon it.

Matthew swallowed hard and searched for a place to put the hash browns, but it seemed almost impossible to find a worthy place. Besides, his mind raced as the smell of food clogged his nose.

    God, he was so hungry. He didn't know if he could wait any longer. Not when freshly-cooked food was laid out before him, just waiting to be eaten, just waiting to be wasted on a man who couldn't possibly finish all of it.

    Matthew almost dropped the plate when he heard the door open from behind him, but he breathed a sigh of relief when Beatrice stepped through. "Matthew, quit dawdling. We have two more plates to grab. Find a place for those hash browns."

    Matthew quickly—and randomly—set them down near the head of the table and scurried through the slowly closing doors, slipping through just in time. He dashed down the hallway, feeling his vision flash with hunger and exhaustion, but he blinked it away and pressed onwards. The servants eyed him as he slipped into the kitchen and retrieved the last two plates of food, struggling to balance them as he returned to the dining hall. Thankfully, Beatrice was just leaving as Matthew approached, but something about her expression told him something was wrong.

    She slowly took a plate from him, as if stalling. Only when she spoke did he realize why she was acting so strangely.

    "He's up," she said. "Early."

    Matthew felt his stomach knot, and not from hunger. "Wh-what?"

    "He wants to talk to you."

    Great, so much for breakfast. Matthew felt his heart sink. He sighed and looked at his feet.

    "Don't worry," Beatrice said gently. "If you find me later I'll make you something special. Lord knows you need some food in your system. Your poor little face is showing it. I know you work for him, but this is no way to treat a child."

    Though she was whispering, Matthew wanted to quiet her. He didn't want Pardus to hear what she was saying, even though it was true. He couldn't lose Beatrice. Not now. She was the one person in his life who noticed his suffering and cared. Even if she only did it out of sheer pity.

    "Give me that second plate. We can't let Pardus see that I was letting you help out in the kitchen. You know how unpredictable he can be. We won't know if it will upset him until it's too late."

    He knew all too well. Matthew nodded in agreement, carefully passing her the second plate.

    "Hey," Beatrice said.

    Matthew looked up at her, taking in her face—her slightly-wrinkled olive skin, greying brown hair, and soft dark eyes.

    "I'm sorry."

    Matthew blinked. Why? Why was she sorry? "Wh-what?"

    "I'm sorry I didn't bother to help you until now. I guess...I was blind to everything that was happening. But, after yesterday...to see that look on your face as he froze that young hero I—"

    "It's okay, there's nothing you could've done," Matthew interrupted solemnly. "There's nothing I could've done, either. This is my life now. I've come to terms with it."

    Beatrice opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then closed it and nodded. "Follow me. We'll make it look like I found you on your way here."

    Then, she turned and pushed open the doors with her back. Matthew followed quietly behind her, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Pardus at the head of the long table, his head propped up on his fist and his other hand drumming on the wood. He was swaddled in a white and blue robe, embroidered with the initials: RW. When Matthew entered the room, Pardus stopped his drumming and reached over to take a long sip from his mug of coffee.

    Matthew stood at the opposite end of the table, avoiding his gaze as he waited for Pardus to do something or say something. Anything.

    Finally, he said: "Good morning, Matthew."

    "Good morning, sir," Matthew mumbled.

    Pardus set down his mug and sighed, his pale eyes moving onto Beatrice as she set down the last two plates.

    "Will that be all, sir?" Beatrice said.

    "Yes, leave us."

    No, Matthew's mind practically screamed. No, please.

    Beatrice had no choice. She stole a glance over at Matthew as she headed for the door and closed it behind her, leaving boss and asset in silence.

    Pardus began to serve himself some of the hash browns that Matthew had brought in earlier, then gestured to the seat that Matthew was standing in front of. "Sit."

    Matthew reached forwards and pulled out the seat, cringing as the wooden legs screamed against the marble floor. He carefully sat down into the plush fabric, pushing himself in.

    Pardus lifted his eyes and studied him as he daintily began to pick at his breakfast. "You look skinny, boy. When was the last time you ate?"

    "I dunno, sir," Matthew said quietly.

    "What? Speak up, boy. I can't hear you."

    "I dunno, sir," Matthew repeated, albeit louder.

    "Hm, well, I guess we must change that," Pardus mused, pushing a plate of eggs towards him. But, since the table was so long, Matthew would have to stand to retrieve them. "Eat."

    Matthew eyed him carefully before he pulled himself from his seat and carefully made his way over to the offered food. There was no way he could say no now, not when he was so hungry and so weak. Though he couldn't help but wonder if he had done something good. He and his boss rarely had meals like this together.

    As he picked up the plate of hash browns and brought it back to his seat he realized that there was not a place set for him, no silverware or a plate. He looked up at Pardus, and as if his boss could read his expression, whistled for a servant.

    The butler that he had run into earlier scurried into the room. "Yes, sir?"

    "Give this boy a plate and some cutlery," Pardus demanded. "Oh, and bring him something to drink."

    The butler nodded and was off in a matter of seconds, leaving Pardus and Matthew in another moment of agonizing silence. It was so silent that Matthew could hear his stomach whining and growling.

    Pardus took a long sip of coffee, then turned his pale eyes on him again. "You did well yesterday, Matthew. It appears that hero isn't as worthless as I thought."

    Matthew lifted his head and listened, trying to ignore his hunger and his impatience for the butler's return.

    "Red Sun is a vigilante with a criminal record. Apparently the police were looking for him."

    His conversation with Red Sun replayed in the back of his mind. Of course.

    "But that's not what makes him important," Pardus proceeded. "He has a girlfriend. White Lotus."

    White Lotus. Now that was a name Matthew knew. She, too, was a young hero like Red Sun. Not as popular as most, but popular enough that people knew her name. Matthew hadn't known was that the two were dating. He certainly hadn't known that girlfriend that Red Sun had mentioned was her, of all people.

    "Mhm, I know," Pardus said, as if Matthew shared his giddiness. "Now that would be a trophy."

    Just then, Matthew realized what his boss was insinuating. Another assignment.

    "Imagine how many headlines I'd make if we managed to snare the two of them," Pardus enthused. "Imagine it, Matthew. I'd have both an Advanced Energy Manipulator and an Advanced Matter Manipulator. I could re-freeze them, side-by-side and standing—"

    Matthew tuned him out, disgusted by his excitement. He had enough of a brain to know that this was not normal. Normal people weren't giddy about placing frozen people in a secret cold storage room. Normal people didn't browse their collection of unconscious bodies and stare into their unseeing expressions. Pardus wasn't a normal person. This was so wrong.

    But then came the dreaded question: "How do you feel about this, boy? You've been so quiet this entire time. I'd like to hear your opinion on the matter."

    Matthew hesitated. "Well, sir, I think it's an opportunity we cannot let go to waste."

    "We?" Pardus sneered.

    "You, sir. My mistake. You. This is all your doing. I am nothing but your humble—"

    "Save the flattery, boy." Pardus scoffed. "The reward for your good behavior is to dine with me. Do not mock me."

    Matthew quieted.

    "Now," Pardus huffed. "I want to hear your honest opinion."

    Matthew thought for a moment, but then said: "I believe that White Lotus will be a great trophy. She is popular with the media. I'm sure she is distraught over her loss right now, which is likely drawing journalists to her like flies. Soon, her name will be all over Amberchase. If she were to disappear, it would be devastating. People would definitely notice."

    "Hm," Was all Pardus said. "Interesting."

    Matthew didn't dare add anything else.

    "Well, if I must admit, everything you said was very true. And I agree." He paused. "You leave for Amberchase in three days. We need to give White Lotus enough time to rile the media before you depart. Three days should be enough, though I will keep you updated."

    Three days? That seemed too soon, but also too far off. That was three days of aimlessly wandering the estate, trying to find things to distract himself with. That was three days of dreading the day he'd return to Amberchase and destroy yet another person's life. That was three days of pure torture.

    Thankfully, the doors behind Matthew opened as the butler returned with a plate, silverware, and a glass of orange juice. Matthew's spirits rose as he watched the butler place everything down in front of him, then turn to Pardus.

    "Will that be all, sir?" He asked.

    Pardus waved him away. "Yes, but next time, hurry up about it."

    The butler nodded again before leaving through the same doors he came in from.

    Matthew didn't hesitate. He reached for the eggs and placed a large helping onto his plate, then looked over at the other end of the table when he realized that the hash browns, sausage, and bacon were all completely out of reach.

    Pardus smiled and rose out of his seat, as if reading the hungry gleam in his eyes. "Which would you like?"

    All of them, Matthew thought. Everything. Though, he didn't have the courage to say it.

    Pardus picked up the plate of hash browns and the bacon and brought it over to him, standing too close for comfort. And Matthew worked up the courage to stop stuffing his face with food to look up at him.

    The words he said were words Matthew would never forget.

    "Continue to make me proud, Matthew."

    Then, Pardus strode to the door and vanished, leaving Matthew in silence, a huge dining room, and a feast fit for a king.

    And somehow, just for a moment, his misery went unnoticed.