Gleb was once again taking the role of Felix’s mentor but this time, he was teaching Felix the skill of combat.
They explored various types of swords and knives, getting skills that could mean the difference between life and death.
As the weeks passed, Felix transformed , growing stronger and faster with each passing day. He began to outmatch most of his peers—other young boys who were still trainees, waiting to be chosen by Nikolai to join the ranks of the Order.

“How did I do?” Felix asked, excitement bubbling within him as he approached Gleb, who was sitting on a log, observing the training session. Felix's eyes sparkled with pride, but Gleb's nod was followed by something deeper—sadness that was hiding in his eyes. Felix couldn’t grasp the source of Gleb's sorrow.

Why wasn’t his father pride? The question puzzled him for months as he continued to gain recognition within the Order. It became clear that Kima would soon select him for a mission. With this newfound purpose, Felix found less time to play with wood.

The day finally came when Felix learned he would accompany Gleb, Emil, and two other men—Leonid and Misha—on his first mission.
Leonid and Misha were slightly older than Felix, yet they were still newcomers to the world of the Order. Felix’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as they gathered in front of the training center, where an armored vehicle awaited them. The air was thick with silence as the four of them settled into the vehicle.

“Where…?” he began, trying to engage Gleb in conversation, but Gleb remained unresponsive.

“What are we going to do?” Felix questioned.

“Collect Severin’s debts,” Gleb replied. Felix didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he was about to learn the harsh reality of the Order’s existence.

When they arrived at their destination, they confronted a man on the street outside his office, dragging him forcefully into the vehicle. What followed was a brutal awakening to the darker side of human nature. Felix stood silently, a helpless observer as his mentor and the others turned into something he had never seen before.

“This is wrong,” Felix whispered, his voice trembling as they exited the grim scene.

“And what were you thinking? That they are training you to have fun? This is the reality, Felix. The reason this Order exists.” Felix felt the weight of Gleb's words. The innocence of his childhood dreams clashed violently with the harsh truths he had just witnessed.


"Why can't we do things differently?" fourteen-year-old Felix asked one day. Nikolai, the scary commander of the Soldatov Order, raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious.

"How?" he responded with skepticism in his voice.

"Let me show you," Felix replied.
Over the past months, Felix’s powers were growing. He had discovered that he could manipulate the minds of those around him, bending them to his will without their awareness.
He was experimenting on his friends—Misha, Leonid, and even Emil—he found he could control their minds. They would do his laundry, make his bed, clean his shoes, all without ever realizing they were under his influence. If he could do such control over them, surely he could compel others to sign documents, giving their possessions to Kima, and obey without the need for violence.

Kima’s interest grow when he witnessed Felix's abilities in action. During one of their missions, they abducted a man—a petty thief—and brought him to the dark warehouse they ominously called the "tortured home." With a mere thought, Felix made the man surrender his entire fortune. The thief sat there, a look of quiet obedience on his face, as if Felix’s will had replaced his own. "Impressive," Kima remarked, his voice low and steady. The large man was not one for many words; Felix had seen him only once a month during the years he had worked under him. What Kima did during his absences remained a mystery, with only Gleb receiving direct orders from him. Felix had heard whispers of Kima’s personal life—a wife and four or five children—but he had never laid eyes on them or attended any family gatherings.

"So..." Felix started, willing to negotiate the terms of this newfound power. But before he could finish his thought, Kima's made a move. In the blink of an eye, he pulled his gun and shot the man who had just given them everything. Felix was left shocked.

"WHAT? WHY?" he screamed, a mixture of pain and frustration .
"I don't want word to spread about your ability, and this one is a talker. You can control him while he’s here, but what happens once he leaves this property?"

Kima's voice was cold, without the empathy Felix had hoped for. "I can control him forever?" Felix replied.
"To waste your potential on some petty thief? I don’t think so. But I’m impressed.

 Keep practicing," Kima stated, turning to leave the dusty room. "And get rid of the body." Tears fall down Felix's cheeks as the weight of Kima's actions hurt him deeply. He acted out, launching himself at Kima, fists flying in a desperate attempt to overpower the man who had just taken a life without a second thought. 

"You can’t stay weak like this, Felix. Feeling sorry for small criminals? Get over it," Kima's voice echoed in his ears as he walked away, leaving Felix alone with the grim task of disposing of the body. The room felt suffocating As he wiped the tears from his cheeks, he knew he stood at a crossroads. The choice before him was not just about power, but about the man he wanted to become. Would he follow Kima's path, or would he carve out a different way, one that honored the humanity he felt slipping away?

“No, no, no…” The fat, greasy man trembled beneath the weight of Felix's cold, piercing gaze, the green depths of his eyes reflecting a fear that was palpable. The blade pressed against his neck felt as icy as the Moscow River in winter.

“No, please…” Felix's voice was steady, almost serene.

“You think you can cross Soldatov’s?” The man’s pleas grew frantic.

“I will pay, I will pay!”

“You talk too much,” Felix replied, his tone devoid of emotion.

“I’ll stop! I’ll pay everything!” A smirk unfurled across Felix's youthful face, a façade of innocence that masked the harsh reality he had come to accept.

“You will pay…” he paused, “with your life.” In a swift, merciless motion, he sliced the man’s throat.

At sixteen, Felix was no longer a boy; his compassion faded, —friends lost to brutality, Misha’s tortured screams echoing in his mind as he was taken by a gang seeking to usurp Soldatov’s empire. Eye for an eye had become the law they lived by.



“Tonight we drink for our friend!” Felix raised his glass high, a bold gesture amid the laughter and music that filled the tavern. The pleasant voice of a young singer floated through the air, wrapping around him like a warm embrace, if only for a moment. Emil, Leonid, and Gleb, his companions, nodded in approval, their respect for the boy who had transformed from a frightened child into a figure of strength evident in their eyes. They understood that the loss of Misha had hardened him. Yet, unbeknownst to them, guilt gnawed at Felix’s insides like a relentless beast. He forced a smile, attempting to savor the fruits of his hard-won labor, but the sweetness was often overshadowed by the bitterness of his reality. They toiled for a family that paid them pennies, while Kima, their leader, reaped the rewards. Kima occupied a table across the room, woth a group of imposing men. Felix’s saw face he didn't recognize among them.

“Who is that?” he asked Emil, who raised an eyebrow.

“A stranger…” Emil replied.

“He looks like a crocodile,” Felix said, observing the man with the unique long face, white hair, and thin beard that seemed to gleam in the dim light. He was almost luminescent.

“Luka DeFranco,” Gleb said, his tone carried a mix of respect and caution. Felix rolled his eyes.

“Another one we have to kill?”

“No, this one—they need him. He’s here to invest in Medi Group, and Kima needs it badly,” Gleb explained.

“More money for Kima? And we’re left with wet bread and mold?” Felix shot back.

“We are small people, Felix,” Leonid said.

“It’s still better than being on the streets.”

“If you say so,” Felix replied, his attention drifting to the singer. She was a vision of beauty, with a voice that danced like silk through the air. Her long hair, cascading like a waterfall, caught the light, and he found himself yearning to touch her, to know her. But as her performance ended, fate twisted cruelly. One of Luka’s guards approached her, and Felix’s heart raced as he watched her confusion turn to distress. She resisted, but Luka’s grasp was firm as he attempted to pull her into his lap. Rage was burning within Felix, and without a second thought, he came forward, ignoring the shouts of his friends.

“Is that how you treat a lady, you scum?” he demanded, gripping Luka by the neck and delivering a swift punch before Kima could intervene. The girl screamed.

“Felix!” Kima’s voice was thunderous, filled with the authority of an angry parent. But in that moment, all that mattered was the terrified girl with captivating blue eyes who met his gaze. Yet, his moment of bravery was cut short as Kima seized him, dragging him away from the scene.

“You drunk, horny idiot! Emil, take him home, or to a pleasure house, just get him out of my sight!”

Kima’s frustration boiled over, and Felix felt the sting of embarrassment. Emil helped him to his feet.

“What did you do, boy?”

“That girl… she was being abused by that old prick. She’s too beautiful to be treated like that…”

“Oh, boy… Anastasia is too old for you,” Emil replied, shaking his head.

“She’s too young for that old bastard too!” Felix countered, his passion igniting.

“Felix, come back to earth… and use your legs, goddammit! I can’t carry you!” Instead of complying, Felix began to sing, his voice playful and teasing, much to Emil's chagrin. This boy… Felix Voronov was a piece of work, a tempest of contradictions, caught between the darkness of his world and the flickering light of hope that refused to be extinguished.