Solflare: The Painter's Secret-Chapter 93: Ninety Days in the Shattered Lands

"We need to pressure-test him," Hu Qing declared, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the entire hostile assembly.

"We need to place him in the one environment where control isn’t an option, but necessary for survival."

’What are they talking about? An environment where survival is necessary?!’ Leon screamed in his thoughts. His eyes rolled in their sockets, straining to see the expression on the crowd’s face.

Whispers tore through the formal silence, then escalated into an overlapping declaration.

"Then let’s place him back into the Shattered Lands!" a voice shouted from the back seats. "Not for a 48-hour trial, but for ninety days!"

"Yeah, with that, if he survives, then he can be useful, and if he dies, then we’ll be safe!"

’Safe from who?’ Leon glanced at the man’s face as thoughts reeled in his mind.

"That’s precisely three months, which is two thousand, one hundred and sixty hours. Are you guys insane?" Mr. Lee’s voice cut through, carrying a protective anger Leon hadn’t heard before.

A man in a red robe slammed his palm flat on the long table before him. Slam. "If that’s a mindful act like you’re saying, Lee, then let’s just end his life here and be done with it!"

Another colder voice followed. "Lee, that’s not a mindful act; the land itself will serve as his teacher. Let its beasts be his sparring partners. If his power destroys him, the problem solves itself."

"Yeah," another agreed. "Then if he masters it, we gain an asset beyond imagination."

Proposals of life and death swirled around Leon like a vortex, each one pulling him deeper into a nightmare. ’Ninety days in the Shattered Lands? It’s just a death sentence with extra steps.’ Leon’s mouth ran dry as thoughts continued to reel in his mind.

The hall buzzed with a stream of noise and slamming tables as factions formed and argued.

Mr. Lee cleared his throat. "It’s too dangerous."

Hu Qing countered instantly with a sharp voice. "It’s the only way to enable him to learn what he truly is." He paused, turned, then smiled at Leon, and back at the crowd.

"The academy’s simulations were good, but compared to the chaos of the Shattered Lands... it is the ultimate choice. It will force him to master himself or be unmade by what he contains."

The low murmurs began to rise. Hu Qing raised his right hand. "Let’s cast a vote!"

Leon’s boots shook as he trembled on his feet.

Before he could process the words, Zoe and Darian stepped forward in unison, carrying unreadable expressions.

Each of them took one of Leon’s arms, then gave him a creepy smile that didn’t touch their eyes.

Hu Qing turned from the crowd. "Take him to the preparation room. He needs to be presented at Zero Hour."

Without a word, they led him away from the center of the hall and moved him past the staring faces of the assembly.

They moved through a side archway, leaving the main hall behind, then entered a narrow corridor lit by recessed blue lights.

"Leon," Darian said in a low voice. "The world does not need a boy who can shatter a room or a field." He paused. "It needs a weapon that can shatter worlds, as your father did."

’My father, Andrew Storm, shattered worlds? A painter?’ Leon’s face twisted into a pure, bewildered annoyance. "Tell me you’re joking?"

Zoe, who was on his left side, answered in an unsettling, weighted voice. "Your father was once a helper to his world, and a threat to the universe."

She tapped his shoulder, then tilted her head slightly, indicating a black door at the end of the corridor they were approaching.

Darian released Leon’s arm, stepped ahead, and placed his palm on a panel beside the door. It hissed open, revealing a small, stark room beyond, illuminated by the same blue light.

He stepped back and gestured to Leon. "Enter."

Leon glanced from Zoe’s solemn face to Darian’s expectant one as his feet rooted to the spot.

Zoe stepped in front of him, gave him a tight embrace that seemed not to end. She leaned close, her lips brushing his ear, and whispered in a tiny tone. "Survive. If not for anyone... just for my sake, please."

The words sent a shiver down Leon’s spine. Then, as abruptly as she had embraced him, she pulled back. "You dropped this," she said, and pressed the back of the black leather book into his hands.

She offered him a weary smile, then turned and followed Darian back without a backward glance.

The black door sighed shut in front of Leon, sealing him in.

For a moment, only silence ruled in the room. Then a ring of white light erupted from the ceiling and scanned him from head to toe. He flinched, the book held tightly under his right arm.

Panels in the smooth walls slid open with a whisper. Mechanical arms emerged. One held a sleek black bodysuit, folded neatly.

The material was unlike anything he’d ever seen; it seemed to drink the light from the room.

Another arm presented a pair of combat-style boots. Then a third held a simple, dark grey tunic.

"Remove your clothing," a neutral AI voice echoed from nowhere. Hesitantly, Leon set the book down on the floor and began to strip off the simple black clothes he’d worn from the Qing estate.

When he stood shivering in the cool air, one arm moved forward and helped him step into the bodysuit that had unfolded. The material slid over his skin like liquid shadow, then warmed, conforming to his body perfectly like a second skin.

Next, as he inserted each foot into the boots, they sealed themselves around his ankles with a faint hum and a click.

As soon as he was dressed, a final mechanical arm extended, presenting a simple, unadorned wristband made of the same dark material as the bodysuit.

Leon hesitated, his heart hammering, then took it and clasped it around his left wrist.

A holographic display flickered to life just above the band’s surface the moment the clasp engaged.

Numbers and graphs glowed in pale blue: his heart rate, elevated; cortisol levels, high; and a fluctuating, jagged line labeled Energy Signature, Unstable.

"Biometric lock established," the same AI voice stated. "Welcome, Candidate Storm."

Leon stared at the data representing his own panic. "What place is this?" he asked in a voice that sounded small and rough in the sterile room.

In response, a door on his far left, which he hadn’t noticed, hissed open.