Gavin's Rock (Chapter 3) - Enter Madelyn

 

In Gabriel’s Mansion

Dr. Paul Koller moved with an air of unsettling calm, his every step measured and deliberate. The dim light from the small slit in the wall cast long shadows, making his blonde hair gleam like a polished blade. His appearance was impeccably composed—a polo shirt neatly tucked into his jeans, a sweater draped casually over his shoulders, and dark sunglasses resting on his nose. He exuded the aura of old European money, a man of refinement, yet the stillness in his demeanor hinted at the darkness that lay just beneath the surface.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the air grew heavier, the walls seeming to close in as he approached the wooden door that led to the basement. The very heart of Gabriel's control. He paused, hearing the familiar voice of Cole “Red Eagle” McKnight, the formidable admiral of the Watchdogs, who was already waiting for him.

“I don’t see why you need me to handle one woman,” Cole remarked, his voice a gruff mixture of irritation and impatience. His hand rested on the spear he carried, a symbol of his authority.

Dr. Koller didn’t reply immediately, instead allowing a faint smile to curl on his lips as he turned the heavy key in the lock. “She’s dangerous, Cole. Gabriel has forbidden me from seeing her alone—she’s proven to be more resistant than any woman I’ve encountered. I’ve tried many methods, but she remains... resilient. This specimen intrigues me. And you know, Paul Koller never fails.”

The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit chamber within. Bianca Volkov, the Eastern European woman whose spirit had not yet been broken, was chained to the wall. Her dark hair was matted, and bruises marked her skin, but her eyes still burned with defiance. The sight of Dr. Koller and Cole entering only fueled the fire in her gaze.

“Ah, Dr. Koller,” Bianca sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “Now you bring one of the denim dogs with you, huh?”

Cole’s eyes flashed with anger, and he stepped forward, his spear poised menacingly. “We’re the Watchdogs, woman! Show some respect! How dare you talk back to a man! I’m the hunter, The red eagle!”

Bianca merely laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the stone walls. “Aggressive, aren’t you? Has Gabriel told you how I almost bit off his dick? Your mighty leader, almost dickless because of me!” Her laughter rang out again, a bitter sound that dared them to try and break her spirit.

Paul Koller stepped forward, his expression unchanging, but a cold edge crept into his voice. “Not yet, honey. This time, I just want to play... again.” With a practiced hand, he pulled out a polished silver pendulum, its chain glinting in the dim light. “Cole, hold her head steady.”

Cole gripped Bianca’s head firmly, forcing her to face Paul, who began to swing the pendulum slowly before her eyes. The small motion created a hypnotic rhythm, and as he spoke, his voice took on a soothing, almost melodic quality, meant to lull her into submission.

“Focus on the pendulum, Bianca... let its movement guide your thoughts... feel yourself drifting... deeper... deeper...” Paul’s voice was a soft whisper, each word wrapping around her consciousness like a tightening coil.”Men are your master”

Bianca’s eyes fluttered, her body instinctively resisting, but the constant swing of the pendulum, coupled with the steady pressure from Cole, began to take its toll. For a brief moment, her eyelids drooped, her breath slowing.

Seizing the opportunity, Paul reached into his bag and pulled out a syringe, quickly injecting a new invention into her exposed arm. His fingers lingered on her wrist, checking her pulse, as he continued his hypnotic chant. “You’re feeling calm now... no more fighting... just obedience... to man power”

Bianca’s head lolled to the side, her body slackening. Paul allowed himself a small, triumphant smile. “Cole, back down. I think it’s working,” he murmured.

Cole relaxed his grip, lowering his spear with a satisfied grunt. “Master Paul... and the almighty Watchdog,” Bianca’s voice was a faint murmur, her eyes glazed over as if the hypnosis had taken full effect.

Paul straightened, a look of self-satisfaction on his face as he turned to Cole. “See... it’s working,” he said, his tone dripping with pride.

But just as Cole was about to step back fully, Bianca’s lips curled into a dangerous smile, her eyes suddenly sharp and clear. “Gotcha, jackass!” Bianca punched her fist as hard as she could into Paul’s stupid balls.

"Hourghh"... Koller made a pathetic, choked sound, and his eyes bulged out while his scientifically trained brain desperately tried to rationalize what just had happened to him.

He let the syringe drop to the floor and pressed his hands on his bulge to protect its wobbly content. Even though he knew, in theory, that testicles were pain-sensitive, the intensity of the sensation in practice shocked him. For a split second, he saw the picture of exploding avocados in his imagination. He stumbled back, still bent over, and Bianca saw with satisfaction a glint of panic in his eyes. "I'm not your fucking lab rat, Frankenstein!", Bianca hissed. "And I'll never be!"

She attempted to attack the now helpless scientist again, but Cole was faster, and grabbed her arms, bending them on her back. Bianca struggled and squirmed, but Cole was too strong. While Cole was shocked, too, by the unexpected attack and Koller's reaction to it, a part of him felt strangely satisfied to see the usually composed, calm, and superior doctor suffering. "That damn intellectual treats us Watchdogs and miners like we're idiots, now he's finally paying a prize for his arrogance!", Cole thought. Koller, however, owing to his mental discipline, slowly managed to stand upright again, and regain his composure. "She's even more resilient than I thought!", he muttered. "But finally she will crumble before male science, and male power, like every other woman!"

Dr. Paul Kolle still clutching his groin as the pain surged through him. He hopped around, trying to ease the agony with quick, frantic movements. “Cuff her again!” he barked, his voice strained with pain. “I have a class to teach.” He took a few deep breaths, struggling to regain his composure. “Come to my place at lunch, Cole. I’ve got something for you to try—new drugs. Use them on any woman in the Watchdog facilities.”

Cole nodded, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Koller struggle to catch his breath. “Yeah, I’ll be there at noon,” he said, giving Bianca a hard slap across the face, more out of spite than anything else. Bianca barely flinched, her defiant gaze never wavering. “Fuck you, watchdog”

Koller shot one last glare at Bianca before stumbling out of the room, still wincing from the pain. Cole tightened Bianca’s cuffs, his expression a mix of irritation and grudging respect for the woman who had caused so much trouble.

 

Meanwhile, Eastern District – Housing A

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows as Silla hurried through their new home, her hands full with a neatly packed lunch. She was dressed in simple, traditional housewife attire—a modest dress with an apron—her movements quick and efficient. She made her way to the garage, where Alif was getting ready to leave.

“Babe, you forgot your lunch!” Silla called out as she approached him. Her voice was cheerful, masking the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Alif stood by his car, adjusting the sleeves of his red flannel shirt, the uniform of his new job as a gold miner. He took the lunch from Silla without even a glance, muttering a quick, “Good, good,” before turning his attention back to his car. There was no thank you, no acknowledgment, and Silla felt a familiar pang of disappointment in her chest.

She lingered for a moment, waiting for a sign of appreciation, but Alif’s mind was already elsewhere, focused on the day ahead. He was about to climb into his car when a voice called out.

“Alif Rakaprabawa?”

Silla turned to see a man approaching them. He wore a denim jacket, the same kind she had seen on the Watchdogs, but this man had an air of authority that made him stand out. His light brown hair framed a strong, intimidating face, and his eyes held a sharp, almost predatory gaze.

“He’s a Watchdog, and he’s our neighbor,” Silla whispered to herself, feeling a shiver run down her spine. But this wasn’t just any Watchdog—there was something about him that commanded respect, even fear.

Alif’s eyes widened in recognition. “You’re... you’re Chase Routledge, the fleet admiral of the Watchdogs,” he stammered, his voice filled with awe. “I admire you—I’ve heard so many stories about you.”

Chase extended his hand, and Alif took it eagerly, shaking it with enthusiasm. Chase’s grip was firm, almost crushing, as he studied Alif with a cold, assessing gaze. “And this must be your wife,” he said, his tone casual, but his eyes scrutinized Silla from head to toe.

“Yes, Mr. Routledge,” Silla replied, her voice steady despite the unease twisting in her gut. Chase’s stare made her feel exposed like he could see through her.

Chase smirked, seemingly satisfied with his assessment. “This is Monday, which means you’ll need to attend the women’s class with Paul. My wife, Madelyn, can show you the way,” he said, gesturing to the woman who had just stepped forward.

Madelyn Routledge, with her perfect blonde hair and serene smile, looked every bit the classic, obedient wife. She extended a hand to Silla. “Hello, I’m Madelyn Routledge,” she said, her voice sweet.

“Silla Kinanti... I mean, Silla Rakaprabawa,” Silla replied, forcing a polite smile as she shook Madelyn’s hand. She felt a sting of resentment as she corrected herself, a reminder of the identity she was expected to shed.

“Well, it’s time for the men to work and the women to learn their place with Paul’s advanced methods,” Chase said, a smirk playing on his lips as he slapped Alif on the back. The two men exchanged a high-five.

“Come on,” Madelyn said, turning to Silla with a smile that did little to ease the tension in the air. “I’ll show you the way to the women’s facilities.”

Silla hesitated, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. Today was her first day at the so-called “class,” and she had no idea about what awaited her. The island’s rules were clear, and whatever Dr. Paul Koller was going to teach would be about submission, about breaking her spirit.

But she swallowed her doubts, knowing she had to play along for now. “Alright,” she said, her voice betraying none of the turmoil inside her.

Madelyn led the way, and Silla followed, glancing back one last time at Alif. He was already sliding into the driver’s seat.

As they approached the bus stop, Silla felt the weight of her situation settle heavily on her shoulders. The bus, painted in soft pastel colors, looked almost welcoming, but she knew better. This was just another layer of the facade—a pretty mask hiding something much darker underneath.

She boarded the bus with Madelyn, taking a seat near the back. The other women sat quietly, their hands folded neatly in their laps, their expressions calm but with a hint of something deeper—fear, resignation, maybe even defiance. Silla stared out the window as the bus started to move, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.

When Dr. Koller entered the classroom, his cold, grey eyes seemed to scrutinize every single woman intensively. Some of the women went pale and nervous just from the look in his eyes, it seemed as if Koller could perceive their deepest, hidden thoughts and fears. After a long moment of uneasy silence, Koller slightly smirked, as if he watched some amusing, stupid animals cuddled together in awe. When he started speaking with his metallic, fascinating voice, the temperature in the room seemed to drop below zero ("How does he do this?", Silla wondered.)

"I see some new faces among my students today", Koller began. "Maybe it's best if some of my experienced students explain to them what this course is good for! Elain, Annica! Please stand up, and come to the front!" Two young women flinched when they heard their names but obeyed immediately, and soon stood in front of the class, not daring to lift their heads.

"We have here Elain, 28 years old. As you can see, she's not very beautiful, and still too fat despite the extra training sessions I ordered her to do..." Elain blushed in shame, and she tried hard to hold back her tears. "And here we have Annica, 19 years old, slim, cute, perfect make-up... like a model... But still...!" Koller paused, while Annica seemed to shrink in sudden fear. "Annica's husband complained about her, telling me she doesn't give him proper satisfaction, while I didn't hear such complaints from Elain's husband! So, tell us, Elain! What have you learned in this course, that makes your husband happy with you? Tell my other students, they should learn it from you!" Koller smiled condescendingly, while Elain's face was now deep red, and her eyes desperately tried to focus on something on the floor. "I...I...", she stuttered, and Koller nodded to encourage her. "We're all very curious, Elain! Go ahead!" - "I show my husband total devotion!", Elain started. "I try to guess his deepest wishes already before he utters them... I go down on my knees when I see ... on his face ... the bulge in his jeans... that he wants to..."

"And what do you do to satisfy him? Help him get rid of this pressure... this strong desire characteristic for men?", Koller inquired sadistically.

"I... uh... I start caressing his dick ... in his jeans... when I feel it... uh, getting hard, I... open his jeans... pull down his underpants, and... kiss his ... his..." - "So, like many men, your husband likes to be orally served?" Elain seemed to wish she could resolve into thin air. She felt deeply humiliated, but she knew she had to go on, to not make Koller angry.

"Yes... but not only... I try to guess what he wants me today... sometimes... from the back... or... sometimes... he wants to see my face... he likes it when I moan and cry a bit... he likes it when... it's hard for me to..." She couldn't continue and suddenly sobbed uncontrollably. But Dr. Koller was already satisfied. "Very well, Elain! You can sit down! Good girl! We'll talk later about your fitness program!" Then he turned to Annica. "I hope this was a useful lesson for you! If I hear more complaints from your husband in the future, you will have to go through some individual extra-training sessions in my private lab! Now, sit down! I will now talk about the most important topics of this class: obedience, devotion... and practice!"

Dr. Paul Koller stood at the front of the room, his voice carrying a tone of authority that filled the small space. The women seated before him listened with a mix of resignation and dread as he spoke about the so-called “truths” of their lives on the island.

“Obedience...  Women’s lives are deeply dependent on men,” he began, his words smooth yet laced with condescension. “Science shows that women aren’t naturally intelligent beings. They need men to guide them, to lead them. Their true desire is to be dominated by men. Out there, you might have heard about things like feminism and equality. Those are lies. This island shows you the truth. Your purpose in life is simple: to satisfy your husband and raise your children. Raise your sons to be successful, strong men, and raise your daughters to be obedient and submissive.”

He paused, letting his words sink in before holding up a photograph of his family. The picture showed a smiling woman and a teenage boy who looked every bit like a younger version of Dr. Koller.

“This is my wife, Lindsay,” Koller continued, his voice softening as he spoke about his family. “She takes care of me every night, and makes sure my needs are met. And she ensures that our son has everything he needs to succeed. My son, Damian, is a senior in academy now, ready to lead, because his father taught him the importance of masculinity, and his mother made sure he had good nutrition and care.”

In the back of the room, Madelyn Routledge felt a sharp pang of anxiety as Dr. Koller spoke. She placed a hand over her belly, trying to calm the turmoil inside. The fact that she still hadn’t been able to give Chase a child, especially a son, gnawed at her constantly. Every night, Chase’s disappointment turned to anger, and she bore the brunt of his frustration. It was even worse when Paul bragged about Damian, his successful, strong son. Chase wanted a son so badly, and every night, they tried, until Madelyn was on the verge of tears, but something wasn’t right.

Beside her, Silla noticed the tension in Madelyn’s posture. Without thinking, she reached out and gently took Madelyn’s hand, offering a small, supportive smile. “You seem tense. Relax. I’m here,” Silla whispered.

Madelyn’s eyes welled up with tears she struggled to hold back. She leaned closer to Silla, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t give Chase a son,” she admitted, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

Silla squeezed her hand reassuringly. “We’ll talk about it after class,” she said softly, offering a kind smile. Despite only knowing each other for a day, there was already a strong bond forming between them, built on shared fears and unspoken struggles.

At the same time, Cole and Rudy entered the room, taking seats at the front. They were there to watch over the class waiting for Dr. Koller to finish, but their presence only added to the tension in the room. Rudy glanced around, his eyes scanning the women until they landed on Silla. Something about her caught his attention, and he couldn’t look away.

“Why did Dr. Koller ask you and not me or Froy?” Rudy asked, his voice low but curious as he kept his eyes on Silla.

Cole chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Because I’m smart and you’re dumb,” he joked. “I’m the eagle, calculated hunter,” he said. “Even your conqueror spirit couldn’t give you that.”

Rudy didn’t respond to the joke, his gaze still fixed on Silla. Silla, sensing someone watching her, looked up and out the window. Her eyes met Rudy’s, and for a brief moment, they just stared at each other, both of them trying to decipher the other.

Silla quickly looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something unsettling about the way Rudy looked at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She turned her attention back to Dr. Koller, but the unease lingered, a constant reminder that she was being watched.

Cole noticed Rudy's fascinated look at Silla, and her reaction. "You can't keep your eyes from that new Asian bitch, huh?", Cole grunted. To his surprise, Rudy blushed slightly, instead of laughing it off.

"Well, you could fuck her! Her husband, as a newbie, would probably not dare to intervene! Maybe he would even be proud to see a Watchdog breed his wife, and cheer for you while you fuck her brains out!", Cole joked.

"Stop talking like that!", Rudy muttered. "They're new here, Dr. Koller wants them first to get accustomed..."

"Koller talks too much weird bullshit if you ask me!", Cole snorted, but low enough so that only Rudy could understand him.  "Don't forget Gabriel is the ultimate authority of this island, not Koller! And Gabriel always warns us not to be hypnotized by women! In their own way, they are cunning little beasts! They would use your feelings against you! Our feelings should be dominated by loyalty, brotherhood, and honor! You shouldn't forget... Those women here for catering to us" Cole reminded his comrade.

 "Yeah, yeah, I know!", Rudy interrupted him. "I know Gabriel's teachings better than most men! Don't worry about me! One day we can have fun with her together, while her husband is working his ass off in the mines!"

"Now you're talking!", Cole laughed. Meanwhile, Koller ended the lesson for today. "I hope you will all keep this lesson in mind!", he said. "You got to give everything you have for your husbands and sons! That's your foremost obligation! Then your life on this beautiful island will be smooth and peaceful! And don't hesitate to talk to me about any problem, be it psychological, physical, sexual... I'm always willing to listen, like I listen to the reports from your husbands and sons! We'll see each other again next Wednesday!"

 

Later that day, after lunch.

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow as Madelyn and Silla returned to the Routledge house, the quiet hum of the island surrounding them. Madelyn opened the door with a small smile, trying to push away the lingering discomfort from Dr. Koller’s class.

“Ah, after lunch is the perfect time to clean the house,” Madelyn said with a forced cheerfulness. She straightened a few items on the counter, already slipping into her routine.

But Silla had other plans. She looked around the spotless kitchen and then back at Madelyn with a mischievous glint in her eye. “How about we do something a little different today?” she suggested, leaning against the counter with a smirk.

Madelyn raised an eyebrow, curious but hesitant. “What do you mean?”

Silla glanced out the window, where the sun shone brightly over the island. “Why don’t we go for a drive? You’ve got a car, don’t you?”

Madelyn’s smile faltered, a shadow of longing crossing her face. “I do, but... Chase won’t let me use it. He says it’s not safe for me to drive alone.”

Silla chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Well, how about we get a little naughty then? Just this once.”

Madelyn’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I’ve always wanted to drive around and explore this island, see more than just the house and the market. It’s so beautiful here.”

“Then let’s do it,” Silla encouraged, her voice light and playful. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

With a shared look of determination, the two women sneaked out to the garage. Madelyn hesitated for only a moment before sliding into the driver’s seat. The car roared to life, and they were off, the thrill of rebellion making the air feel electric.

They drove to the southern part of the island, where the landscape opened up into a breathtaking valley, surrounded by rolling hills and vibrant greenery. It was a part of the island that felt untouched by the oppressive rules and expectations they faced every day.

Silla and Madelyn parked the car and wandered to a soft patch of grass, where they laid down, soaking in the rare feeling of peace. The gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, and for a moment, it was as if they had escaped the suffocating grip of the island’s society.

Madelyn sighed deeply, the tension in her body slowly easing. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt this relaxed,” she admitted, staring up at the clear blue sky.

Silla turned her head to look at her friend. “Madelyn, are you really happy here?” she asked softly.

Madelyn forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course, I love Chase. I love this place. It’s... perfect,” she replied, her voice trailing off as if trying to convince herself.

Silla frowned slightly, sensing the doubt beneath Madelyn’s words. “Are you sure? Have you ever had a dream, something just for you?”

“Dreams aren’t for women, Silla,” Madelyn said with a resigned sigh. “We can’t afford to have dreams. If we dream, who will take care of our husbands?”

Silla couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “They can take care of their own stuff, right? Ah. Forget that. Alif’s a big boy, but he can’t even wash his own dishes.”

Madelyn’s face softened, and she laughed too, the sound genuine this time. “Chase is the same. Big, tough guy, but sometimes I wonder... are they really as competent as they think?”

“No way!” Silla chuckled, shaking her head. “They just like to think they are.”

Madelyn grinned, a sense of freedom washing over her. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

Silla looked up at the sky, her smile fading into something more wistful. “I used to want to be a writer,” she confessed. “I wanted to write plays, maybe even a movie or a novel one day. I don’t know what to write about anymore, but I brought some of my old theater costumes here, just for nostalgia. Alif didn’t care about my dreams; he brought me here without a second thought.”

Madelyn turned her head to look at Silla, her own dreams bubbling up to the surface. “I always wanted to be a chef,” she admitted. “Why is it that women are expected to cook for their husbands, but when it comes to the real job of cooking, people think men are better? There’s no hotel or restaurant here, so my dream of being a head chef with awards... it feels so stupid.”

Silla shook her head, her eyes shining with understanding. “It’s not stupid, Madelyn. We all have dreams. We can cook, but not just to support their dreams. Why can’t we have our own?”

Madelyn sighed deeply, the weight of her thoughts heavy on her mind. “We’re supposed to support their dreams. That’s the way it is. I’ve supported Chase’s journey to become the head of the Watchdogs, but... why can’t we have a dream, Silla?”

Silla turned to her with a gentle smile. “Who says we can’t?”

Madelyn frowned slightly, the doubt still lingering. “You heard Dr. Koller. He made it clear what our roles are supposed to be.”

Silla’s expression hardened slightly. “We’re just as capable as men, Madelyn. I don’t buy into what he says, but I didn’t want to make a scene in class.”

Madelyn looked down, uncertainty still clouding her thoughts. “But... how can we be capable? We’re weak, aren’t we?”

Silla sat up slightly, looking around to make sure they were alone before leaning closer to Madelyn. “I want to ask you something, and it’s kind of a secret. Please don’t tell Chase. Madelyn, do you know about... men’s weakness?”

Madelyn’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"I don't think... I know what you mean", Madelyn said carefully, anticipating that they were touching a delicate topic. "You mean their ... simple mental structure? That they can be so easily manipulated... seduced... when they're, uh, in need of sex...?"

Silla shook her head. "That's what every woman knows", she replied and started to smile a bit evilly. "I meant their physical weakness..."

 "C'mon, Silla! We both know how strong-trained men are, especially the miners and Watchdogs! I would never dare to face one of them in a physical fight! It's better for us to ... give in ... let them have their ways ... and do what we can to ... talk them into ... something good..."

"They may be strong, but they have a soft, vulnerable target... or let's say, two of them ... right in the center of their bodies, between their thighs!", Silla insisted. Madelyn's eyes brightened, and she couldn't avoid grinning like Silla when she remembered the little scene she had witnessed on her screen: Lera kicking her husband right in his balls! "Oh, yes...", Madelyn started, and both women looked each other in the eyes, realizing they shared a delightful secret. "You already knew about it! Right?", Silla asked curiously.

Madelyn nodded and chuckled a bit. But then she composed herself and looked very serious. "Still... it would be dangerous to try ... They may be in pain for a few moments... maybe even some minutes... but after that... imagine what they would do to us after that! Imagine how angry they would be..."

Madelyn shivered and looked very nervous now. "Please, Silla... don't ... don't play with such thoughts... they are so strong, and they can be so aggressive..."

"I know, I wouldn't do it just for fun... We need a really good plan! But if you've ever seen how much a man suffers just from a slight slap down there... Imagine what happens when you do it again and again and again before they can get up again! Don't you think we would reduce them to crying wrecks, begging us for mercy?" Madelyn gulped, but Silla noticed first signs of growing enthusiasm in her friend's face. "You're serious about it...", Madelyn whispered.

The soft breeze whispered through the grass as Silla and Madelyn lay side by side, the beauty of the valley contrasting sharply with the heavy conversation they were about to have. Silla turned to Madelyn, her eyes serious.

“Yes, I’m dead serious. I know men’s weakness,” Silla began, her voice low but firm. “Men are so delicate down there. It’s almost poetic. All that Dr. Koller said about men being indestructible—it’s not true. Last night, Alif wanted to have sex, but I wasn’t in the mood. I just... you know, kneed him in the balls.” She let out a small, bitter laugh. “His reaction was priceless. He fell right off the bed. I kinda felt bad, but... why don’t we have a say in it? Why do we always have to cater to our husbands’ needs, like we’re their property? We have needs too, we have moods, and why can’t we say no?”

Madelyn’s eyes widened, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Actually, some nights ago... I saw something. A girl... she kicked Chase. He captured her. I think she was one of the rebel wives.”

Silla’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, did she have long hair? A scar?”

Madelyn’s expression turned to one of shock. “Yes...”

Silla’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt tears welling up. “So... she’s dead?” Her voice wavered, barely able to ask the question.

Madelyn nodded slowly, her own voice trembling. “Her name was Lera Styles. I haven’t seen her husband for a while, but yes... she’s gone. My... my husband killed her. But that’s what happens to traitors here, I guess. Being Chase’s wife means I know a lot of awful things.”

Silla’s tears began to fall, and she took a deep, shaky breath, her heart heavy with the weight of what she had learned. “She warned me... she warned me about men’s weakness. Gabriel has a girl in his basement—she told me the same thing.”

Silla stared at a small flower by her side, its delicate petals swaying gently in the breeze. “So her name was Lera... she tried to warn me...” Her voice cracked as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Madelyn watched her, a deep sorrow in her own eyes. “Silla, I’m so sorry.”

Silla wiped her tears and turned to Madelyn, her expression suddenly fierce. “Madelyn, I’m sorry if this is out of line, but your husband is evil. How can you tolerate him? Have you ever thought of... you know... fighting back? Kicking his balls?”

"No... no!", Madelyn exclaimed and buried her face in her hands. "He's so strong... he could kill me with one arm! I'm so afraid...", she sobbed. Silla hugged Madelyn, trying to calm her. "I understand you", she said. "I won't force you to fight him... We must unite first! All women of this island, I mean! But the right moment will come! I have this vision...", Silla continued, whispering in Madelyn's ear. "All males on this island... all of them over 18, I mean... getting their balls squashed at the very same moment! Imagine that collective cry of pain... thousands of male eggs getting cracked, thousand stupid faces in pain..." Now Madelyn, still sobbing, had to laugh about that idea. "You are crazy...", she declared. "But ... what then? Their revenge will be ... horrendous!"

"We won't give them an opportunity for that!", Silla promised her. "If all of them wear a shock collar on their manhood... Imagine our friend Dr. Koller with one of his own collars around his balls!" The two women burst out in laughter, while the vision of a total power reversal on the island gained reality in their minds.

The peaceful quiet of the valley was suddenly interrupted by the distant rumble of a Harley Davidson motorcycle, its engine growling as it tore through the southern part of the island. The bike was unmistakable, adorned with the emblem of the Watchdogs—a snarling dog’s head that matched the men who wore it. Cole McKnight, the Admiral of the Watchdogs, rode the bike with practiced ease, his expression hard and focused. He wore a jean jacket over a dark T-shirt, his blue jeans hugging his muscular frame. The bike roared to a stop near two other motorcycles parked at the edge of the valley, where Blake and Danny, two of Cole’s men, were waiting. Cole has classic 90’s blode hair cut.

Cole dismounted, his boots crunching against the gravel as he approached them. “Admiral,” Blake began, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Sorry for our mistakes. One girl rebelled. This is her profile.” He handed Cole a small tablet displaying the girl’s information. “She’s single. Her name is Erin Wagner.”

Cole’s lips curled into a smirk as he took the tablet. “Erin, huh?” He smiled to himself, recognizing the name immediately. He had had his eye on Erin for some time, drawn to her beauty and her spirit, though not in the way someone like Rudy might be. Cole didn’t believe in love. To him, Erin was just another conquest, a potential plaything to mold into the perfect obedient wife. “So she ran away from the single women’s class with Dr. Koller? Stupid doctor. Too many failures.” He shook his head, his smirk widening. “What about her collar?”

Blake shifted uncomfortably. “She grabbed the remote from her dad,” he explained. On the island, the electric collars worn by unmarried women were controlled by their fathers, a symbol of ownership and control.

Cole’s eyes narrowed with interest. “Now, she can’t be far...” he mused, the wheels turning in his mind. “Dr. Koller gave me a new pill. He says it makes a woman impressionable, like putty in your hands. It strips away their control. I need to find someone to test it on, and Erin... she’s the perfect candidate.” Cole’s voice was cold, calculating, as he made up his mind.

He mounted his bike again, ready to hunt down his prey.

 

In the Valley - With Silla and Madelyn

Meanwhile, not far from where the Watchdogs were plotting, Silla and Madelyn lay on the soft grass, the warm sun on their faces, lost in their own conversation. The peaceful valley felt like a world away from the oppressive rules of the island. They had been talking about their husbands, the frustrations they felt, and the small acts of rebellion they imagined.

“You know, sometimes I picture it,” Silla said, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and amusement. “I picture just giving Alif a good knee to the balls when he’s being impossible.”

Madelyn laughed, the sound light and freeing like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “I can just see it now. Okay okay. I admit. It’s fun to imagine but... doing it... ” Madelyn smiled.

The idea of taking control, even in their thoughts, brings a sense of relief but seems to be farfetched.

But their lighthearted moment was shattered by the sound of rustling leaves and hurried footsteps. A girl, breathless and wide-eyed with fear, burst into the clearing. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes torn from running, and there was a wild desperation in her eyes.

“HELP... HELP ME!” the girl cried, her voice trembling. “THE WATCHDOGS ARE SEARCHING FOR ME! Please, the beach... we can escape from this island...”

Silla and Madelyn shot up, startled by the sudden intrusion. Madelyn recognized the girl instantly—Erin Wagner, the very girl Cole had just been discussing.

“Erin!” Madelyn gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never expected to see Erin here, let alone in such a state. 

Silla reacted without hesitation. "Get into the car!" She opened the door and pushed Erin on the back bench. "Hide there!" She threw a blanket over Erin, and the frightened girl tried to cover herself. Madelyn and Silla rushed to the front seats, and Madelyn started the car.

At the same moment, they heard the sound of an approaching motorcycle, but they couldn't tell the exact direction from which it was coming. "Back to the street!", Silla yelled. The two women suddenly felt like Thelma & Louise. Just when they reached the street, a roaring motorcycle shot over a hill, like in an action movie, and blocked their way.

"Ram him! Don't stop!", Silla ordered, but Madelyn couldn't do it. She was still too afraid of the Watchdogs and had internalized the obedience to the male authorities in Dr. Koller's seminars. "Damn! Madelyn!", Silla cried in despair, when Madelyn brought the car to a halt a few centimeters away from the Watchdog's bike.

Cole dismounted, took off his helmet, and opened the front door of the car. "Madelyn Routledge!", he snarled. "What are you doing here? Why are you in such a hurry? Does Chase know you are driving his car alone... or, wait..." Cole looked behind Madelyn and recognized Silla. Madelyn whispered to Silla. “He’s one of the three admirals,” said Madelyn. “Directly below Chase’s order. The three most skillful fighters.”

Silla had heard about the admiral. They’re the same rank as Rudy.

"The new girl in town! What do you think you are doing here?" He stood in front of them with legs apart, crossing his arms, waiting for an answer. "Chase knows it! Of course he does", Madelyn lied. "He ordered me to ... collect some berries and fruits... but we got lost here... I don't know this part of the island so well..."

"I will ask Chase later about that! May the holy Phallus have mercy with you if you lied to me!", Cole said with a skeptical tone. "You haven't seen a young girl on your way? Erin Wagner? We're after her!" - Both women shook their heads. Cole thought about it for a moment. "I will check the rear trunk for any sake! But... wait... what's under that blanket?!"

Silla’s mind raced as she realized there was only one way out of this. They had to take Cole down, but he was standing on the other side of the car, his imposing figure blocking any hope of escape. Madelyn was closest—she was the only one who could reach him, the only one who could make a move.

But when Silla glanced at her friend, she saw the hesitation in Madelyn’s eyes. Madelyn’s hands trembled as they rested on the steering wheel, her knuckles white with fear. She was too scared, too conditioned by years of obedience and submission to make a move against a man like Cole. The fear of what Chase would do if she disobeyed was written all over her face, paralyzing her.

“It’s moving!” Cole growled, his sharp eyes narrowing as he spotted a slight shift under the blanket. He was ready to act, ready to rip the cover away and expose their secret.

Silla felt the surge of adrenaline take over. They had no time to lose. “DAMN IT, MADELYN! NOW!!!” Silla screamed, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air.

Madelyn’s heart pounded in her chest, her instincts screaming at her to run, to hide, to do anything but what she was about to do. But Silla’s desperate plea jolted her into action. With a sudden burst of courage, Madelyn snatched Cole’s helmet from his hand, her movements fueled by raw fear and adrenaline. In one swift motion, she swung it with all her might, aiming directly at his groin.

The helmet connected with a sickening thud, the force of the blow sending shockwaves of pain through Cole’s body. He let out a guttural shout, a sound that echoed through the valley. It was a pain like nothing he’d ever felt before, a white-hot explosion of agony that dropped him to his knees. His face twisted in shock and fury, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “FUCK!! WHAT WAS THAT? CHASE IS GONNA KILL YOU!” he spat, his voice hoarse with pain.

Cole’s left hand instinctively grabbed his groin, trying to cradle the pain, but Madelyn’s desperate attack hadn’t completely incapacitated him. He was strong—too strong to be taken down so easily. Even as he writhed in pain, he reached out, grabbing Madelyn’s ankle with a grip like iron. His eyes were wild with anger and pain, but also with the twisted logic that had been drilled into him.  “Chase will be in a bad mood if I hurt you, but if I let you go, he’ll be even angrier,” he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper as he tried to drag her down with him.

Madelyn’s eyes widened in terror, feeling the strength in Cole’s grip as he began to pull her closer, but before he could do more, Silla sprang into action. She threw open the passenger door, slipping out with the agility and speed born of sheer desperation. She ran around the car, her feet pounding against the gravel as she circled behind Cole.

Without hesitation, Silla reached out and yanked Cole’s hair with all the strength she could muster, pulling his head back sharply. “Fight me, you stupid dog!” she yelled, her voice filled with fierce determination. “Is the big dog afraid of a little Asian girl?” Silla taunted, her words designed to distract him, to pull his attention away from Madelyn and onto her.

Cole’s grip on Madelyn’s ankle loosened slightly as he turned his attention toward Silla, his eyes blazing with fury and disbelief that these women were daring to defy him. But Silla held on, her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Aaaarghh, let go...", Cole grunted, trying to turn around and reach for Silla's arm. Silla couldn't control him anymore, he was like a raging wild animal, and Silla staggered. Madelyn, still sitting in the driver's seat,  tried desperately to think of something she could do to save her new friend. She was just at the right height to face the bulge in the Watchdog's tight jeans. So close to it, she could tell where his dick was, and she even saw the slight bulge his right testicle made. Out of her mind, she reached for her car key and stabbed it as hard as she could in Cole's right ball. The man's surprised scream was deafening. Even though the denim protected his manhood, he lost control over his body, let go of Silla's arms, and clutched his hands over his bulge. "Hoouuuuuw!", he howled, like a real tortured watchdog.

Cole McKnight was one of the strongest men on the island—one of the most handsome and imposing figures among the Watchdogs. But now, all that strength, all that power, meant nothing. His blue eyes, once filled with confidence and authority, were now clouded with pain and rage as he rolled on the ground, clutching his bruised right testicle.

“SHIT! YOU CRAZY BITCH!” Cole screamed, his voice filled with a mixture of agony and disbelief. “CHASE WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

He could barely move, every attempt to shift sending fresh waves of pain through his body. But through the haze of pain, Cole’s mind grasped at one last desperate thought. He still had something—a final weapon. His hand shook as he reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small vial that Dr. Koller had given him. The drug. If he couldn’t test it on Erin, he could test it on someone else. His eyes fell on Silla, the fire in her spirit still evident despite everything. The idea twisted into something dark and vengeful in his mind.

Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Cole lashed out, smacking Madelyn with a backhanded blow that sent her reeling. He let out a low, dark laugh, fueled by the thought of turning the tables. Before Silla could react, Cole pinned her to the ground, his weight pressing down on her as he straddled her with a predatory grin.

“Ooh, baby,” Cole sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “You don’t know my secret weapon. I mean, aside from my dick.” He laughed again, a cold, menacing sound that echoed in Silla’s ears. “Dr. Koller gave me a drug. It can make you believe whatever I want you to believe. I can make you do anything I want. It hasn’t been tested yet, but... I think you’ll be a perfect example!” His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction.

Silla struggled beneath him, but Cole was still too strong, his grip ironclad as he forced her head back. With his other hand, he fumbled with the vial, quickly popping the pill into his palm. Without hesitation, he shoved the pill into Silla’s mouth, clamping his hand over her lips to force her to swallow it.

Silla’s eyes widened in panic as she felt the pill hit her tongue, the bitter taste spreading in her mouth. She could feel his hand pressing down, trying to force her to comply, but she refused to give in. Desperation surged through her, fueling one last act of defiance.

With all the strength she could muster, Silla drove her knee up into Cole’s groin, targeting the same spot Madelyn had hit just moments before. The force of the blow was brutal, catching Cole off guard as the pain exploded in his already bruised testicles. Silla spat the pill.

Cole’s eyes bulged in shock and agony, his grip loosening as he let out a guttural scream that echoed across the valley. He recoiled, clutching his groin with both hands, the vial and the pill forgotten as he crumpled to the ground in sheer, overwhelming pain.

Cole curled up and squirmed like a fish on the land, totally incapacitated. "My right one... my right one..." was the only thing he could think. A hot, searing pain ran from his ball through his nervous system, paralyzing his body and his rational thinking. His testicle felt perforated, squashed and cracked. "A Watchdog with just one ball... impossible... they will expel me... oh holy Phallus... that pain..."

The two women towered over him. "Wasn't that easy?" Silla asked provocatively. Madelyn was stunned, she looked down on the writhing man in astonishment. "Yes.... but there are many more of them... What shall we do now?" Erin left the car, and came to them. She couldn't believe what she saw. "How on earth did you do this?", she asked, looking from Silla to Madelyn and back. "We'll tell you later", Silla smirked. "Have you heard what he said about that pill? Luckily we still have it, I spat it out!" The women exchanged determined looks. "We gotta act fast now, before more of those stupid Watchdogs arrive!"

Silla’s eyes narrowed as she watched Cole writhing in pain on the ground. Fueled by a mix of anger and adrenaline, she didn’t hesitate. She reached down, her fingers wrapping around the very source of his agony. She grabbed Cole’s bruised testicles with a cruel laugh, her voice dripping with mockery. “You still have your right one, don’t be such a baby, big boy,” she taunted, her smirk widening as she saw the fear flash in his eyes.

Cole’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his breath hitching as he tried to process the searing pain. But Silla wasn’t finished. She picked up the pill that had fallen during the struggle, the one Cole had intended to use on her. With a swift, decisive motion, she forced it into his mouth, clamping her hand over his lips to make sure he swallowed.

Cole’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what was happening, but it was too late. The bitter pill slid down his throat, the very weapon he had intended to use now turned against him. He tried to spit it out, to fight back, but his strength was gone, drained by the relentless pain and Silla’s unyielding grip.

Madelyn, still recovering from the shock of the sudden violence, looked at Silla with wide eyes. “What does the pill do?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.

Silla’s smirk turned into a cold, calculating smile. “I think he said it makes the person easy to hypnotize or something like that,” she replied.

She leaned in close to Cole, her voice dropping to a soothing whisper. “Now, Admiral Cole, listen to me. Close your eyes... you’re Admiral Cole, but you’re afraid of women. Remember this—you’re terrified of women. You have a hard time reaching an erection. You will say that Erin fell into the sea. You will forget how you got your groin injury, but you will always remember to be scared of women. Women can make you scream. You are a scared little boy. Forget us, forget me and Madelyn... but don’t forget what we did to you”

Cole’s eyelids fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open, but the drug was already taking effect. His body relaxed, the tension draining away as his mind succumbed to Silla’s commands. His breathing slowed, his eyes finally closing as he slipped into a deep, drug-induced sleep.

Satisfied, Silla stood up, her expression one of grim satisfaction. But she wasn’t quite finished. With a final, decisive motion, she delivered one last, brutal kick to Cole’s groin. He let out a weak, muffled groan, his body twitching slightly before falling still again.

Silla turned to Madelyn, her face serious. “Come on, let’s plan what to do next,” she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. They had won this round, but the fight was far from over. They needed to figure out their next move, and they needed to do it fast.

Cole was half-unconscious, the pain between his legs seemed to become worse every moment. He heard the car leave, and then the only sounds came from singing birds and the wind from the sea. What had just happened? Cole's memories seemed to escape him the more he tried to remember. A part of him, though, was glad he could forget what happened... After some time, he heard the sound of two motorbikes. Blake and Danny were shocked to find Cole, slowly rolling from left to right on the ground, holding his crotch, with dirt and dried tears on his face...

"Cole! What the fuck happened here?!", Danny shouted. "Perhaps some wild animal attacked him", Blake supposed. "Idiot! There are no wild animals bigger than cats on this island! Or do you think a seagull did that to him?!" They got interrupted by Cole's sobbing.

"Call help... I'm injured... bring me away... Doc Hodenberg... they might come back..." - "Who?! Who might come back?", Danny asked. Cole opened his mouth, trying to remember. After a while, he sighed. "I don't know... can't remember..." Then a sudden idea came to him. "Three girls!", he yelped, then he passed out.

A Watchdog patrol car was called, and Cole was brought to their headquarter. Soon after that, Chase Routledge and Dr. Koller arrived there, too. After hearing the report by Danny and Blake, they interrogated Cole, but he couldn't tell them much more than he had told Danny and Blake already. After examining him shortly, Koller ordered Danny and Blake to bring him to his colleague Dr. Hodenberg. "But make sure Cole doesn't tell him anything- this incident must be treated with discretion! And you two won't tell anyone, too! Understood?" Blake and Danny nodded.

After they had left with Cole, Chase turned to Koller. "Three girls! That's all he could say? Isn't that strange? Should we inform Gabriel about this incident?" Koller thought about it, then shook his head. "We know too little yet! And ... surely Gabriel would start to have doubts about the Watchdog's competence!" - "And the competence of his chief scientist, too!", Chase growled. Koller clenched his tears, and his metallic grey eyes glistened menacingly. "Perhaps!", he said briskly. "We must find out what happened! Either Cole is just under shock, or ..." Koller thought about something. Could it be an effect of his pill? Cole didn't have it anymore... Had someone turned his own invention against him?

"Gabriel should better not learn about this!", he said to Chase. "Blake, Danny and Doc Hodenberg will tell no one... They can't tell much anyway! It's our task to investigate on this!" Chase wasn't very happy to hide something from Gabriel, and to have to bond with the arrogant scientist. But for the moment, there weren't many options. "Agreed", he murmured, looking at Gavin Leister's portrait on the wall above his desk.

 

In the Infamary

 

The infirmary in Gavin’s Rock's Watchdog headquarters was bleak, its walls painted a sterile white, filled with the faint smell of antiseptics. Cole McKnight lay on one of the cots, the stiff sheet drawn over him, as he struggled to open his eyes. Pain echoed from his bruised groin, a humiliating reminder of his recent encounter with the women. Every part of him ached, but none as sharply as his pride.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor outside the room, crisp and deliberate. A ripple of tension filled the air as Chase Routledge strode in, his expression unreadable. Behind him followed two other Watchdogs—Froy and Rudy—both with stoic faces but dark amusement flickering in their eyes as they glanced at Cole’s weakened state.

Cole tried to sit up, wincing as he adjusted himself against the pillow. He forced himself to look at Chase, attempting to maintain a semblance of the strength he’d lost, despite the grimace on his face. "Sir... I'm... I'm sorry," Cole began, his voice strained, humility a foreign taste in his mouth. "I didn’t expect... the women, they... they caught me off guard. But I swear, I won’t fail again."

Chase's eyes hardened, his jaw tight as he studied Cole in silence, taking in the admiral's disheveled appearance, the bruising, the bandage peeking from under his shirt. "Caught off guard?” Chase's tone was as cold as the room’s temperature. “You are an admiral of the Watchdogs. Our entire island depends on our strength, on our ability to control—do you understand that?"

Cole nodded, shame heating his face. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Then act like it,” Chase snapped. He leaned closer, his presence pressing down on Cole like a weight. “There's a rebellion brewing, Cole. I don’t know how many yet, but we’re dealing with women who’ve been emboldened, who think they’re clever enough to plot right under our noses.”

Chase’s gaze cut to Froy and Rudy. "Our objective is to crush this before it spreads. I want you, Cole, to find the women responsible for this attack on you. Identify them and capture them. If they resist, remind them why Gavin's Rock doesn’t tolerate rebellion."

Cole swallowed, determination building in his eyes. “I’ll get it done, sir.”

Chase straightened, his eyes dark with the icy conqueror’s spirit he wore so effortlessly. The room itself seemed to constrict under his authority, the sterile walls feeling stifling as his dominance seeped into every corner. A young nurse, who’d been cautiously checking Cole’s chart at the foot of his bed, felt the weight of Chase’s aura wash over her. She stumbled, her knees buckling slightly as her gaze remained locked on him, mesmerized by the aura he projected without a word.

"Get out," Chase commanded her with barely a glance, his tone holding a possessive, suffocating finality. The nurse nodded quickly, exiting the room with flushed cheeks and a trembling step.

Turning back to Cole, Chase continued, his voice low and menacing. “Capture these rebels alive. We need to know how deep this goes, who else is involved. I want them interrogated—slowly, thoroughly. Break their spirits.”

A hint of Chase’s sinister smirk appeared as he nodded toward Rudy and Froy. “Take them to Dr. Koller if you must. Use any method you need to. But we are going to end this rebellion before it begins.”

Rudy chuckled, crossing his arms, his gaze mocking. “Guess you’ll need a bit more than brute strength this time, huh, Cole?”

Cole clenched his jaw, refusing to let his shame show. “I know what’s at stake,” he muttered, but his voice was stronger now, as if reminding himself. “And I won’t fail again.”

Chase’s gaze was sharp, unforgiving. “You’d better not. Or your place in the Watchdogs will be forfeit.”

Cole met his leader’s gaze with a renewed fire in his eyes. “I swear, sir, I will bring these women to their knees. They’ll remember who holds the power on Gavin’s Rock.”

 

In Silla and Alif’s house

Silla sat alone in the small room she’d claimed as her own in the corner of the mansion, the only place that felt somewhat safe. A low hum of tension filled the air as she thumbed through the worn magazine she’d found in a forgotten drawer. It was an old issue of Gavin’s Rock Quarterly, the island’s glossy, propaganda-laden publication designed to promote the Watchdogs’ power and the island’s patriarchal ideals.

Her fingers stilled as she turned to an article titled “The Rising Guard: The Admirals Leading Gavin’s Rock”. A large, high-quality photograph of Chase Routledge filled the first page, his piercing gaze capturing her attention instantly. There he was—dark hair, strong jaw, and a presence that seemed to leap from the page, even through the glossy veneer. The article lavished him with praise, detailing his iron discipline and “unwavering loyalty to Gavin’s Rock,” with glowing accounts of his physical strength, tactical prowess, and “natural-born conqueror’s aura” that demanded submission from anyone who dared challenge him.

Silla’s eyes narrowed as she skimmed over the reverential descriptions. Chase was everything she had feared—an immovable figure at the heart of the island’s power. He was brutal and relentless, the kind of leader who would do anything to keep his iron grip on the island and its people.

She turned the page and found Cole McKnight’s profile. The photograph captured him with his trademark confidence, arms crossed over his chest and a sly smirk pulling at his lips. The article lauded his loyalty to Chase and highlighted his intimidating physical strength, noting his skill in close-quarters combat and “tenacity that rivals even Chase’s.” But Silla had seen his weakness. She had been part of it, and that knowledge gave her a spark of confidence.

Next came Froy Gutierrez. His photograph showed him grinning wickedly, leaning casually against a wall with a hint of amusement in his eyes. According to the article, Froy was known for his ability to track down and capture targets with ease, “a Watchdog who hunts without mercy.” The tone made her skin crawl, reminding her of his sadistic nature and the stories she’d heard from other women who had crossed his path. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of encountering him, but her resolve strengthened.

And then she saw him. The last of the Admirals—Rudy. His image wasn’t as staged; his expression was softer, more natural, almost contemplative, with his light brown hair falling over his forehead. His jaw was set, his gaze intense yet somehow vulnerable. Silla’s heart skipped, her hand lingering over his picture as if her fingers could reach through the page and touch him. There was something about him that was magnetic, an unshakable draw she couldn't quite explain, something she sensed but couldn’t control. She stared, feeling a rush of emotions she hadn’t felt in so long—an unsettling mixture of attraction and rebellion that made her heart pound.

Her hand trembled as she tried to pull herself back from the edge of whatever it was Rudy made her feel. But as her gaze held steady on his image, she felt an almost feral determination rise within her, overtaking that flicker of temptation with defiant resolve. Rudy’s face might be the one that haunted her, that held some strange power over her—but he would not be the one who stopped her.

Silla straightened, closing the magazine and pressing her fingers firmly against its cover, as if sealing away the pull Rudy held over her. Her voice came out in a fierce, whispered promise, her words filling the silence of the room.

“I will lead… the girls… to break free,” she said, her tone steady, each word carrying the weight of her decision. “And no Watchdog will stop me.”