Four cycles of torture passed in which reconciliation became completely impossible for Korr and his new way of enduring the blows of life.
To be more exact, he felt he lived in hell, and added to his lack of resilience left on Earth, things only went from bad to worse.
He really tried. He tried to ignore the children, their laments and afflictions, focus on himself and center on his own survival.
but those aspirations only lasted two turns and 4 segments, before sending everything to hell once again, and returning to some punishment imposed by his damned instructor.
During these four viltrumite months in Dorymathos, equivalent to more than three Earth years, he hated his new life like never before. The sole desire to destroy his own demonic father responsible for leaving him there, as well as his master for trying to find new ways to torture him, was the only thing that allowed him to maintain his desire to stay alive.
There were also the children. He wanted to help them, in everything possible, in order to find someone different, plant a moral seed and one day, be truly free.
From his bunk, the last of the upper row attached to the wall, he stared fixedly at the window, absorbed.
Through it, he only looked at the blackened night of the empire, which surprisingly, gave access to the contemplation of the stars.
The simple view from that vertical window evoked an uncountable number of thoughts and reflections about his life in this world. This world was hell, and space, beyond this planet, was also expected to be hell.
Space travel was possible, even through mundanely basic means, such as using one's own body. But it was only a matter of observing the second-class citizenship, to realize how the rest of the imperial colonized were.
However, generally, he imagined that, beyond the galaxy, beyond the burning frontiers of the empire, there would probably be a completely new universe which would be interesting to explore. He did not feel so much fascination for astronomy, and it felt disconcertingly strange to have to think that sooner or later, navigating the universe would become something mundane or more exact, the norm for him. But there was no doubt that he would very probably be the envy of all astronomers.
But the simple idea simply shattered by the way in which he had to live.
Living was difficult, and sleeping was also a problem. In comparison to him, the children of his platoon were deeply asleep, in authentic restorative dreams that could last authentic viltrumite nights.
But Korr was not like those children. Many times, he would just wake up suddenly and observe that the sun had not yet risen, so he had to just be there, awake, doing nothing more than contemplating while waiting for the morning to repeat the cycle of torture.
And no, insomnia would not pose any kind of problem for his growth. In fact, viltrumites only needed to sleep little time, and his body, apparently, seemed to remain in optimal condition as long as it was not pushed to the limit, as often happened.
In the darkness of the super technological barracks, from time to time, Korr heard the moans of some, while others suddenly began to scream.
"fatherrr, where are you fatherrr!, father!".
Like these, from the crying boy. It was not the first time he had heard the little one cry in the middle of a dream, a nightmare. In the first commotion, he had even started to throw punches at nothing, which had awakened everyone, as well as had drawn the attention of the instructors, ending with all punished.
Because of this, Korr, since then did everything possible to help that child under the torture of military and soulless training to help him overcome the horrible nights of nightmare.
Getting up from his bed, he flew toward the direction of the child in question in a single breath. At his side, Korr directed his hand toward his shoulder, where he began to whisper to him softly.
"it's okay little one, it's okay", Korr whispered to him softly, managing to calm the child who did not stop crying even in his dreams.
"father, where are you, why did you leave me, father. I do not want to be here, father do not leave me". The child said in his nightmare, situation that made Korr feel depressed.
"I am here, I will always be with you", Korr lied, he lied as much as he could using sweet whispers that from time to time, managed to calm him.
He lied because he knew there was a very high possibility that his father would never want him, that he despised him and that very probably would be capable of ending his life if he considered that his own son was not suitable for the empire.
But he must not know it.
There was also the fact that nobody rested well here.
Or maybe it was just entertainment for the instructor. A rebellious pet that had not yet been fully tamed.
The training was being a calvary. In short, a large part of the military conditioning was reduced to combat, in which practically, they forced the children to survive using restriction suits that dampened their movements.
He never dared to strike the children, even if they tried to attack him, although evidently, they failed in the attempt. Those decisions cost him a lot of unpleasant punishments, translating into an absolutely unequal combat between him and his instructor, added to an exaggerated amount of physical exercises.
He had been injured a lot, but he had also improved notably. But this, far from supposing an advantage, tasted like misfortune, since he continued to be constantly pushed to unconsciousness.
If he died in this world, it would probably be from a heart attack. At this rate, it was probable that he would not die of old age again.
He also did not forget, he could not avoid having nightmares for everything he was constantly experiencing because of the damned nouwlan.
And among the most ruthless tortures, was the pressure chamber, where he was subjected beyond what should be appropriate for natos of his age. It was part of his punishment, to triple his trials as part of discipline.
In that infernal room, he either endured until completing the test, or died in the attempt. It was that simple. And there, while the oxygen slowly decreased, to barely five percent for him, while he felt his head spin and his ears buzz, sometimes he thought of dying right there and leaving all that suffering behind.
Anyway, he had already died, right?
There was no need to prolong things, he had already lived everything he had to live. But his new physiology, being a viltrumite, prevented him from simply ascending to the other plane. So he just decided to hold his breath as long as he could, until he ended up fainting.
Korr endured, barely, but he did. He had nothing left but to endure, because his new body was made for that, to endure. Endure until reaching adulthood and, when the time came, in some expedition imposed by the empire, to discharge himself as M I A. That is, missing in action.
Setting aside those thoughts, he moved away from the child, who had calmed down, and levitated toward his own bunk. There, he remained for what was an endless time until the inevitable, once again, had arrived.
Precisely when he felt that he and his sleep reconciled, the lights of the barracks dimmed until turning whitish.
Korr lay on his bunk, the last of the upper row attached to the wall, his eyes opened with annoyance and resignation, knowing what awaited him once again.
The moans of the crying boy began to be heard again. Korr sighed and sat up, ready to do the usual at least once more, but the presence that had materialized at his side prevented his advance.
"do not even bother", said that feminine voice to his right, which, despite sounding so flat, left a hint of interest. "the little null-ram has already had enough attention from you. It is time for him to take care of his own fears as all natos should". She warned him.
Korr turned his head to see her. There, to his right, was the sub-officer vexa, her feet barely touching the edge of the bunk while she floated at his side. Her arms were crossed below her pronounced chest, and her white uniform barely reflected the dim light of the barracks.
Korr felt how those gray eyes tried to see through his interior, and he was grateful that the viltrumites, despite the great similarity with that super powerful race under sunlight, did not have x-ray super vision.
"Sub-officer", Korr straightened his back immediately, bringing his fist to his chest, ready to correspond to her presence. "For the glory of Argal..."
"lower the salute", she interrupted him lazily shown through the vague gestures of her hand. "I am not nouwlan, you can relax a little".
Korr obeyed, but maintained the tension in his muscles. He did not dare to lower his guard in front of this young woman, because he had also experienced beforehand how equally harsh she was compared to instructor nouwlan. Both were demons, the difference was that she tortured you while smiling at your side, she found the pain of the children amusing.
"then?", Korr asked, his voice cautious.
"Nouwlan has delegated me the supervision of your punishment this time". She explained with indifference, her hands crossing behind her back. "I have determined that you must spend the next 6 segments of disciplinary correction in the pressure chamber, understood?".