"What do you say when the sun is out?" Amethiel asked, holding up a drawing of a bright sun.
Kree stared at it for a moment, its gaze fixed, processing. Its lips parted slowly. "G-Good... Good morning..."
Amethiel nodded, a satisfied smirk forming as he lowered the paper and picked up the next one. "If it’s nighttime, how do you greet people?"
Kree’s eyes shifted to the second drawing. It hesitated, its shoulders tightening slightly. "Good... night...?"
It said, unsure.
Amethiel’s smile grew just a bit. "Good job. You’re learning quickly, Kree." His tone carried approval, though it never softened fully. "Now the last one."
He lifted the third drawing, tilting it toward Kree.
"It’s in between night and day."
Kree froze.
Of course it would.
Its eyes flickered down, not at the drawing, but at Amethiel’s other hand.
The whip.
It didn’t need to move. Kree already knew what it meant.
’Fear really is the best motivator,’ Amethiel thought as he watched closely because the ’afternoon’ was often forgotten by Kree.
Kree swallowed, forcing the words out. "G-Good... afternoon..."
It lowered its head immediately after, like it already knew what was coming.
"Good job," Amethiel said lightly. Then his tone shifted. "But since you took too long to answer."
He placed the drawings down neatly on the table.
Then—SNAP!
The whip cracked through the air.
"ARGHHH—!"
Kree flinched hard, its body jerking from the impact, a strained cry escaping it.
This wasn’t an ordinary whip.
Amethiel already knew about Kree’s regenerative abilities. Normal injuries healed too quickly to be useful.
So he adapted.
After that...unfortunate incident days ago, he had created more of what had saved him.
His advanced acid.
Or as he preferred to call it now—
Kree Repellant.
The first time he used it, it burned through Kree’s skin slowly enough to hurt, but not fast enough to kill.
Even days later, the damage had taken time to fully heal. That alone told him everything he needed to know.
So he improved it.
Made even more.
And then laced it into his whip.
Now every strike carried more than pain. It carried a lingering effect, something Kree couldn’t just regenerate immediately.
And it worked.
Kree learned faster.
And more importantly—
It behaved.
No more unnecessary hard-ons.
No more interruptions.
Amethiel let out a quiet snicker, tilting his head slightly. "Still hurts, doesn’t it?" he asked, watching closely.
There was something different in his expression now.
Not just curiosity.
’Maybe I am enjoying this a little,’ he thought, though he didn’t dwell on it.
Kree slowly looked up at him, its eyes glassy, tears forming but not falling. There was no anger in its expression. No resistance. Just hurt.
And understanding.
"You’ve gotten smarter, haven’t you?" Amethiel said, looking down at it.
Kree whimpered softly. "M-Master..."
"The ball is close, Kree," Amethiel continued, as if nothing had happened. He reached forward and grabbed the leash around its neck, pulling it slightly closer.
The chains clinked with the movement. "You still have a lot to learn before I can show you off."
Now, Kree wasn’t just restrained at the wrists.
Or the ankles.
The collar around its neck kept it in place just as much as the rest.
"I’m not letting you derail us any further," Amethiel said, his tone flattening. "So stop with that pitiful act. We both know what kind of monster you are."
He pushed it back slightly before turning away.
"I’ll be going up now."
He started walking.
Behind him, chains shifted.
"M-Master—"
Kree reached out again, the movement slow but desperate.
Amethiel didn’t turn fully. He simply lifted the whip just enough for it to see.
"Don’t you dare."
That was enough.
Kree stilled.
Amethiel continued walking, not looking back.
’It still hasn’t learned,’ he thought. ’Or maybe it just refuses to.’
Out of everything Kree had learned so far, that was the one thing that never seemed to stick.
That Amethiel was not the kind of master he wanted him to be.
Or paints him to be.
"See you tomorrow." Amethiel waved lightly, already turning away before waiting for any kind of response.
There was a small sense of relief settling in his chest as he headed for the stairs.
At least now, he could leave without worrying about Kree causing another scene the moment his back was turned.
’I should ask Father to reinforce the soundproofing,’ Amethiel thought as he made his way up. ’It’s not very effective if Kree’s voice can still reach me from below.’
By the time he stepped back into his room, the tension in his shoulders had begun to ease.
He reached up and loosened his cravat, fingers tugging at the fabric until it gave way, then unbuttoned the top of his shirt.
The air felt cooler against his skin, and he let out a slow breath.
"I need to plan what I’m going to teach this week," he murmured to himself, moving toward his desk. "The ball is getting closer."
It wasn’t just about presentation anymore.
It was about impact.
About proving something.
Proving himself.
Amethiel sat down, pulling his notes closer, flipping through pages filled with observations, sketches, and hurried annotations.
"And not just that..." he muttered, his voice lowering slightly. "I need something worth presenting."
A proposal.
A real one.
Maybe a whole presentation.
Something that would make the king listen.
His pen tapped lightly against the page as his thoughts sharpened.
A use for Kree.
Not just as a specimen.
Not just as a display.
Something more.
Reproduction.
No, human evolution.
The idea didn’t make him pause as long as it probably should have.
Half-breeds.
Humans and monsters.
Stronger bodies.
Adaptable traits.
A new kind of being.
"They’re probably going to say it’s unethical, because it is, Amethiel said under his breath, though there was no real weight behind the words.
’But it’s useful,’ he added almost immediately. ’And usefulness always outweighs hesitation.’
If Kree truly shared similarities with humans, if its body could produce something compatible—
Then it wasn’t impossible.
And if it wasn’t impossible, then it was worth pursuing.
Amethiel leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes narrowing as he organized the steps in his mind.
"So first..." he murmured, tapping the page. "I show its speech. Its ability to understand. Then it’s biology."
His pen moved slightly as he spoke.
"The extra arms. The tentacles."
The word lingered.
Tentacles.
Amethiel froze.
The pen stopped moving.
His grip tightened slightly.
"No... no," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes as if that would help him push the thought away.
But it didn’t.
If anything, it made it worse.
The memory came back.
It has been coming back too often.
The feeling.
The pressure.
The way they had moved.
The way it touched him—
Amethiel’s breath hitched slightly, his jaw tightening as he tried to push the images away.
But his body didn’t seem to care.
He looked down at his lap, where there was a very obvious bulge, his expression shifting into clear irritation.
"...Again?" he groaned, dragging a hand down his face.