(If you're guessing who titled this, it's me.)
(Also on the side note, a slight disclaimer: you might not want to witness this torture I'm seeing. If I could unsee it I would but I can't. You can if you want so think twice before proceeding.)
(Never in a million lives would've prepared me for this. I feel sorry for Alex.)
Alex couldn't remember the last time he'd felt truly hungry. Not the kind of hunger that came from cravings for greasy fries or sugary snacks, but the gnawing, all-consuming hunger that came from being denied something his body needed. (I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss counting how many snacks he ate and witnessing him feasting delicacies. It was better then than now)
It was his third day of training, and he was already starting to question whether the throne was worth it. (Not that he has a choice). He had woken up that morning to find a tray of food left on his desk, but it had been taken away before he could even take a bite. (I swear, if I had hands I would've punched torturers #1-3 till they became pulp). Lorelei had simply stood in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking as she watched him. (Lorelei, you deserve the death sentence for being this sadistic)
"Not yet, Alex," she had said coolly (and very cruelly. I hate you Lorelei). "You don't get to eat until you get this right."
Alex had tried to protest, but she just walked out, leaving him in silence, stomach growling in protest. The rest of the day had been a blur of grueling exercises—tasks designed to break him down, to chip away at his resistance and force him to become the king they all expected him to be. (I know I used to critisize him earlier but does this Pig deserve this kind of treatment? From his siblings, no less.)
Right now, he stood in the center of a lavish training room, his eyes fixed on the podium in front of him. The task? Memorize the names, titles, and political histories of the kingdom's top 100 nobles. They were watching him through a large, one-way mirror in the adjacent room, where his siblings and a cadre of royal advisors were monitoring his progress. The words on the cards in front of him blurred together as his stomach growled louder. (I wish I could crawl somewhere and die rather than witnessing this scene. I pity you so much I don't have any snarky remarks for you today)
Lorelei's voice echoed through the intercom system. "Alex, you're wasting time. We're not going to stop until you get every single detail right. No food. No rest. No breaks. You'll stay here until you can recite the names in order. Understand?" (I wish I could slap you)
The cold tone in her voice sent a chill down his spine. This wasn't just a training session. This was punishment. This was torture. (I pray for you to stop, please)
His eyes burned with frustration, but he forced himself to focus, clutching the cards tightly as if holding onto them might somehow give him the strength to endure. (Alex, come on. Please resist or something. You don't deserve this.)
"Alright," he muttered to himself, sweat dripping down his face, but he couldn't stop the trembling in his hands. (he's actually trembling? I never thought I'd see the day). The names and titles blurred before his eyes. His body screamed for food, for rest. But he had no choice. If he didn't get this right, if he didn't perform perfectly, there would be consequences. (I never thought I'd say this to the Pig who loved anime but you don't deserve this)
He tried again, this time speaking the names out loud, his voice shaky but determined. "Duke of Selwyn... Marquess of Westmoor... Earl of... Argh!" He slapped the card against the podium in frustration, the words dancing away from him like some cruel joke. (I hate this. I hate your siblings Alex)
"Wrong," Lorelei's voice came through the speakers once again, this time sharper, colder. "If you can't even remember a few names, how are you going to run a kingdom? Are you even trying?" (Come on, can't you see him trying? He's literally soaked with sweat from exerting his exhausted brain and lack of food due to you)
Alex wanted to scream. He wanted to throw the cards at the wall and storm out of the room. But he knew that if he did that, if he showed even the smallest sign of defiance, they would only make it worse. So he stayed. He endured. (Should I count how many days he starved now? It's the third day)
His mind was a fog, but he pushed through, repeating the names over and over, his voice growing more desperate with each failure. And still, his stomach burned with hunger. His hands shook from exhaustion, and his head spun from the lack of rest. (I haven't got any rest either. Who can sleep whilst witnessing this hell? I would give them anything they wanted. But even if that happened I wouldnt be able to since I don't have the authority or the power to do so--since I don't exist. God, I wish I did.)
Hours passed, or maybe it was days—he couldn't tell anymore. (I'll tell you Alex, three whole days of these idiots torturing you). The one constant was the relentless pressure from his siblings, watching him from behind the glass, waiting for him to break. (If God allows me, I'll haunt torturers#1-3 in their dreams)
At one point, Julian had entered the room, his face impassive as he watched Alex struggle. His voice was as cold and calculating as ever. (No...wait...torturer #2 deserves an unstoppable cyberattack rather than a nightmare)
"If you're hungry, you're not going to get anything until you memorize all the names perfectly," he said. "This is how it works now. Every mistake means more time here, more hunger, more exhaustion. You think you can sit in your comfy little palace and coast through life? Well, guess what? It's time to face the consequences of your laziness." (One day, you'll face the consequences for this. I can guarantee that...100%)
Alex's throat tightened, but he bit down on his frustration, focusing on the cards again. His fingers fumbled, slipping over the paper as he tried to read, tried to commit the names to memory. (Oh Piggy, I want to cry but I don't have tears to cry)
But the exhaustion was starting to get to him. His vision blurred, his body wobbled with weakness, and every breath felt like a struggle.
He was close to breaking. He could feel it—the edge of a mental breakdown that was only a step away. But then Seraphina entered the room, her sharp eyes assessing him like a predator watching its prey.
"Pathetic," she said, her voice smooth as silk, but laced with venom. "You still don't get it, do you? You're not here to learn for yourself. You're here because we need you to learn. You have to make the kingdom work, Alex. You have no choice." (You're the one who's pathetic, Seraphina, for doing this to him.)
Alex's eyes narrowed as he glared at her. The frustration, the helplessness, the hunger—it was all boiling inside him, a swirling mass of rage and fear.
"I won't do it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I won't let you break me." (My heart---if I can call it a heart---is twisting at this display of brokenness)
But Seraphina's smile was cold and calculating. "Oh, Alex. You've already broken. You just don't know it yet." (I want to murder you alive)
She turned to Lorelei and Julian, who were standing just outside the door. "Keep him here until he finishes. I don't care if it takes all night." (I swear I will take revenge on you, you despicable siblings, who does this to their youngest? What about familial ties? huh? You punks!)
The hours stretched on. His mind felt like it was on fire, trying to piece together details he couldn't care less about. The cards, the names—they were just words to him, foreign and meaningless. (Shivers are running down my spine. I'm sorry but I'm finding this hard to witness. It's so irreconcible of the same Pig who binged anime whilst stuffing his face a few days before is being tortured beyond sane means)
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to rattle off the names perfectly. Every noble, every title. He could barely remember the words coming out of his mouth, but the second he finished, Lorelei's voice crackled through the intercom.
"Well done, Alex. You finally passed. Go ahead and take a break." (Well done for ruining a life, Lorelei)
A brief flicker of triumph coursed through him—until he realized what they had done. He had been pushed to his breaking point, starved and exhausted, only to be rewarded with the smallest taste of success.
But it didn't feel like a win. It felt like the hollow victory of someone who had just been put through a grueling test with no real reward in sight. (Alex, please please please, punch her. I beg you)
Alex stumbled to the door, too weak to even feel the satisfaction of having finished. His stomach still churned with hunger, but there was nothing left to give. No strength. No will to keep fighting.
He leaned against the wall, panting heavily, feeling like his body might collapse at any moment. (...I don't think I'll be able to survive this eventhough I don't even exist...)
The door to the training room opened, and Lorelei stepped in, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Good work," she said, though her tone was cold. "You're learning, slowly but surely. But don't get too comfortable. This is just the beginning. We'll be back tomorrow." (tomorrow?)
And with that, she walked out, leaving Alex alone with his exhaustion, his hunger, and his fear.
This was only the start. The crown was his, whether he liked it or not. And they weren't going to stop until they broke him, shaped him into something they could control. (That's the spirit Alex.)
A king. (Alex, you better become one and once you do I hope you get revenge on them.)