Chapter 3: A Step Towards Power
The atmosphere was heavy with dust and the smell of newly cut concrete as I compelled my weary body to continue onward. The sun scorched brightly over the construction site, roasting the bare metal beams and warming the ground beneath my feet. Each movement seemed like a challenge—a fight against the heaviness of exhaustion that wrapped around my arms and legs like shackles.
I clenched my jaw and lifted another bag of cement onto my shoulder, sensing my back complain from the pressure. Sweat drenched my already exhausted shirt, clinging to my back like a second layer.
Surrounding me, the other employees operated effortlessly, carrying, dragging, and putting together materials without showing any signs of fatigue. The disparity between us was strikingly clear. As I wheezed and fought to stay on pace, they operated with the consistent effectiveness of machinery.
Especially Nathan Crowley.
I glanced toward him, my jaw tightening.
Nathan carried a steel beam across the site, his muscles barely straining under the weight. He dropped it onto the designated area with a loud clang, stretching his arms with a satisfied smirk before turning his gaze toward me.
He saw the struggle written all over my face. And he loved it.
"Getting tired already, Vale?" he called out, loud enough for the others to hear. "We're barely halfway through the day!"
Laughter erupted from the surrounding workers.
I ignored them and forced myself to keep moving. Every fiber of my being screamed for rest, but I wouldn't give Nathan the satisfaction.
But I needed to change this.