Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 107: Everyone breaks eventually

I woke slowly, painfully, dragged from the depths of merciful oblivion into a harsh and unrelenting reality. The first sensation was cold biting, relentless, seeping through my clothing and skin, pressing into my bones like icy fingers. My breath fogged in the air, shallow and ragged, as consciousness trickled back.

Slowly, painfully, my eyes fluttered open.

Darkness surrounded me entirely, dense and oppressive, swallowing the room until my own heartbeat seemed deafening. Panic surged instinctively, throat tightening, my breath quickening sharply. I jerked forward, straining instinctively to move, to summon magic, anything—but pain lanced through my wrists, sharp and brutal.

Chains. Cold, metal restraints clasped tightly around my wrists, suspending my arms awkwardly above me. My fingertips had long since gone numb from lack of blood flow. I twisted sharply, desperate to free myself but the restraints held firm, merciless, unyielding.

"Don't bother," a voice echoed softly from somewhere within the shadows, amused and cruelly calm. "Those cuffs were designed specifically for you. Even your magic won't help you now."

My heart raced violently, fear twisting painfully within my chest. The realization sank like a stone, bitter and cold. For the first time since arriving in this world, I was utterly helpless.

[Stay calm,] the system whispered softly into my mind, its voice carefully gentle, reassuringly steady. [You must keep your head clear.]

"Easier said than done," I muttered hoarsely, voice trembling. My eyes strained desperately into the gloom, attempting to see something anything but the darkness remained unbroken, a black curtain hiding everything beyond.

My magic stirred faintly within me, weak and drained, barely flickering beneath my skin. I strained instinctively to reach for it, to feel the familiar strength and reassurance of power but it slipped through my fingers like smoke, dissipating instantly. Panic surged anew, twisting my stomach violently.

I truly was defenseless.

"Comfortable?" the voice mocked quietly, stepping slowly closer, footsteps echoing sharply against a stone floor I couldn't see.

"Show yourself," I snarled with false bravado, ignoring the trembling of my voice, the rapid pounding of my heart. "Or are you too cowardly to face me in the light?"

The figure laughed softly, unbothered by my taunts. "Brave words from someone helplessly chained in the dark."

The sound of a match striking cut sharply through the silence. A small flame flickered, briefly illuminating a pale face framed by dark hair a young man with piercing gray eyes that glittered with cold amusement. He leaned casually toward me, lighting a lantern with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving mine.

As the shadows receded, details slowly emerged around me. The room was small, barren, the stone walls slick with moisture, moss-covered and ancient. Rust-colored stains streaked the uneven floor, a grim testament to previous occupants' sufferings. A single wooden door stood closed, heavy and reinforced with iron bands. The entire space reeked of mildew, damp earth, and the coppery tang of old blood.

Fear curdled nauseatingly in my gut, bile rising painfully in my throat.

"Who are you?" I whispered, voice barely audible, trembling uncontrollably despite my best efforts to steady it.

He smiled faintly, studying me with an expression I couldn't decipher curiosity, contempt, amusement? "Names hardly matter," he murmured. "What matters is your cooperation."

I stiffened instantly, defiance sparking weakly beneath my terror. "I'll never help you," I spat venomously.

He chuckled, amusement deepening in his cold gaze. "You say that now," he replied softly, almost gently. "But everyone breaks eventually."

He reached out casually, fingers brushing lightly against my cheek, deceptively tender. Revulsion surged through me, instinctively recoiling but his hand grasped my jaw tightly, nails digging sharply into my skin, forcing my gaze upward.

"Tell me about your parents," he whispered softly, dangerously. "Their weaknesses, their secrets. Everything we need to bring them down."

Shock and fury surged through me simultaneously, drowning fear briefly beneath outrage. "Go to hell," I snarled viciously, struggling fruitlessly against my restraints.

His grip tightened cruelly, pain flaring sharply across my face. "You misunderstand," he said softly, a twisted smile curling his lips. "Refusal isn't an option. Cooperation now will spare you unnecessary pain."

My breath caught painfully in my throat, heart racing wildly. I'd always felt invincible here untouchable, protected by powerful magic, influential parents, devoted allies. I'd never once considered that this world might break me that I could bleed and suffer like anyone else.

[Be strong,] the system murmured fiercely, sensing my panic. [They want to frighten you. Stay focused.]

Easier said than done, I thought bitterly.

I glared defiantly at my captor, forcing venom into my trembling voice. "You're wasting your time."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, a spark of something cruel flickering briefly within their depths. "We'll see," he whispered softly.

He released my jaw abruptly, stepping smoothly backward. His gaze flickered toward the door, nodding briefly.

A second figure entered silently—a woman, lithe and pale, eyes shadowed and empty, face utterly devoid of emotion. In her slender hands, she held a small blade—thin, delicate, gleaming wickedly in the dim lantern light. My stomach twisted violently, dread rising sharply within me.

"Now," he murmured gently, mockingly patient. "Let's begin again. Tell me everything you know about your parents' defenses—magical wards, hidden allies, political vulnerabilities. Everything."

I gritted my teeth fiercely, anger warring violently with terror. "I won't betray them."

He sighed softly, theatrically disappointed. "Pity."

He nodded silently to the woman, and she stepped forward without hesitation, eyes utterly lifeless. Her hand flashed sharply, the blade slicing cleanly, swiftly, precisely across my shoulder, opening a burning, shallow wound.

Pain erupted instantly, sharp and raw, stealing my breath, agony shooting hotly through my nerves. A strangled cry escaped unwillingly, tears burning instantly in my eyes.

For the first time, I realized I was mortal. Fragile. Vulnerable.

He watched me intently, cruel satisfaction flickering briefly within his gaze. "How brave," he murmured mockingly. "Yet utterly pointless. Pain can break even the strongest resolve. I suggest saving yourself unnecessary suffering."

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I bit my lip fiercely, tasting coppery blood, trying desperately to gather what little courage remained. "You'll get nothing from me," I gasped painfully.

His smile widened slowly, cruelly. "So stubborn."

He nodded again, and the woman moved mechanically, expressionless as porcelain, her blade striking swiftly, methodically, slicing shallow, precise wounds that burned like fire across my skin arms, legs, ribs never lethal, always controlled, calculated for maximum pain.

My screams echoed helplessly, hoarse and ragged, tears blurring my vision, dripping hotly down my cheeks. The agony was blinding, unbearable, each fresh wound shredding another piece of my bravado, stripping away strength, pride, and defiance until all that remained was pain raw, consuming, relentless.

[Hold on, Elyzara,] the system whispered urgently, voice filled with helpless anguish. [Don't let them break you.]

"I—I can't—" I sobbed weakly, the words barely audible, despair overwhelming me.

[You can,] it insisted fiercely, its voice trembling with desperation. [You're stronger than this. You must endure.]

But strength seemed impossible now nothing more than an illusion I'd foolishly believed in until this very moment.

The woman paused momentarily, awaiting further orders, her knife gleaming slickly with blood my blood. My breath rasped harshly, consciousness wavering dangerously, agony saturating every nerve. Darkness beckoned temptingly, promising merciful oblivion.

Yet somehow, despite everything, a faint spark of stubborn defiance still lingered—tiny, fragile, nearly extinguished, yet undeniably present.

"Well?" he murmured softly, almost encouragingly. "Ready to talk?"

My breath shuddered painfully, chest rising and falling unevenly. Blood dripped hotly from fresh wounds, pooling slowly beneath me.

"Never," I whispered brokenly, meeting his gaze defiantly despite trembling violently.

He smiled slowly, eyes glittering with something terrifyingly close to admiration. "Good," he murmured softly, voice almost gentle. "I hoped you'd say that."

Then he nodded silently, and the woman stepped forward once more, her blade gleaming mercilessly beneath flickering lamplight.

As agony exploded once again, raw and consuming, I understood with chilling certainty this was only the beginning.