Chapter 15: The First Disciple
As a child, she yearned for her parents' love and care and the tenderness they so freely gave her siblings. But as time passed, the ache dulled, replaced by a quiet resignation. She stopped expecting love, stopped hoping for gentle words or kind gestures. Without expectations, the pain grew more bearable.
Perhaps God had been merciful to her after all. She had never wanted to be an assassin, never wanted to stain her hands with the lives of those who had done her no harm. The grudge she was meant to avenge was not hers; it belonged to her father.
In the darkness, a faint smile curved Lara's lips. How ironic life was. She was a master of explosives and modern weaponry, capable of hitting a target blindfolded with unerring precision. Yet here, those skills were utterly useless. Fortunately, she had also trained in traditional weapons—spears, swords, and arnis—and those skills might prove to be her saving grace.
Her hacking abilities were unrivaled, not just in her country but across the globe. Who would have guessed she would find herself in a place without computers and electricity?
'How absurd!' she thought, her smile turning wry.
Nearby, Reya and Sandoz snored softly, their rhythmic breathing a stark contrast to her wakefulness. No matter how she tried, she couldn't shake the events that had led her to this strange situation.
A sudden voice from downstairs startled her.
"Girl, go to sleep! You're starting your training tomorrow morning, and you'll need all the rest you can get," came the stern yet familiar tone.
Lara froze, holding her breath.