A Breeder For The Alphas

“I’m sorry dad… I’m sorry!” he screamed louder. The words barely came out of his small mouth, as he tripped over.  His fists trembled against the cold floor.

“I didn’t mean to! I’ll do better!” He cried out. “I swear I’ll do better!”

Another vicious whip tore against his back making him cry louder. Blood ran across his head to his back, his arms and everywhere at once, until he couldn’t tell where one strike ended and the next began. His vision blurred as tears ran uncontrollably... he curled into himself, trying to make his body smaller... maybe it'll end all the pain.

“Useless!”

The voice was harsh and familiar. It echoed louder than the pain he had taken.

“Good for nothing!”

“I’m trying…” he choked, voice shaking. “I’m trying, please—”

Another hit. He flinched violently, a scream ripping through him.

“I’ll be better! I’ll be better, I promise! Please don’t—”

“You should have died instead of your mother!”

Another hit tore the peace, the words were cold and final.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressing his forehead to his hands as if that alone could make it all end.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Then Lukas jolted up.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, almost desperate for life. Sweat and tears ran down his face as if he’d been running and for a moment, he didn’t move or blink. He just stared at the ceiling, letting the silence settle. Then he exhaled slowly,

“...not this damn nightmare again.”

His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. It was the same dream… over and over, never changing.

He dragged a hand over his hair, pushing himself to sit on the bed. The room was dim and the faint morning light slipping through the curtains, soft and calm, a great irony compared to what he’d just seen.

Or rather… remembered.

He didn’t think about it too long. He never did.

Dropping his legs over the side of the bed, he stood and stretched slightly, already pushing the remains of the dream away. There was no use holding onto it and no use trying to make sense of something he couldn’t even fully see anymore.

And that was the strangest part… he couldn’t remember their faces anymore… not clearly at least. And no matter how hard he tried, they were always blurred like shadows just out of reach.

But their voices? Those stayed in his head. Clear and sharp.

He paused for a second, fingers tightening slightly at his side. “…tch.”

He turned away and headed to the bathroom… there was no point thinking about them. Not anymore.

*****

By the time Lukas stepped onto campus, he looked like a totally different person. Composed and sharp. No one knew about his struggles… no one but him and even he disappeared.

Students passed by him in clusters, voices low but curious, eyes following him for just a second too long.

“That’s him, right?”

“Yeah… Reiner.”

“Top of the class again…”

“And ice hockey captain too? That’s insane.”

He ignored all of it with no effort, just like he always did.

His expression never changed, his pace still steady as he moved through the halls without sparing anyone a glance. His books in hand, posture straight, everything about him screamed control and something close to perfection.

If anyone tried to greet him, he'd respond with a nod at most. No lingering conversations, no unnecessary interactions.

Lectures came and went.

Lukas sat through them all, taking notes, answering questions when called upon, his voice calm and precise. On paper, it was effortless. The kind of student professors relied on for every lecture but his mind wasn’t entirely there today… it kept drifting.

Fragments of the dream still lingered, slipping in between words and lectures. Not the images though, they were already fading, but the feeling remained… Heavy and unsettling.

He tried briefly to picture them again, his parents, to remember what they looked like but once again… nothing. Just voices and a headache that stung.

“You’re useless.”

His pen paused slightly against the page.

“…forget it. It's enough.”

He continued writing… putting all his focus to the professor.

By evening, the air had cooled, putting him at ease a bit. The rink lights cut through the dark surroundings, glowing bright against the ice as Lukas stepped inside. The familiar chill wrapped around him instantly, grounding him in a way nothing else was. This was where everything made sense… where he made sense, this was his promise.

The moment his skates hit the ice, something in him settled. He moved smoothly, effortlessly, slicing through the surface with practiced ease. 

He was fast and controlled. Every turn, every shift of weight was perfect… just like he presented himself to be. Utter perfection.

Others were already training, but the energy shifted slightly the moment he joined. It was subtle but still noticeable.

Everyone knew who he was. Not just the captain or the top student, he was the best player in the entire league and no one questioned or challenged it. And it was simply because no one could match him.

Practice continued under his direction even before the coach arrived.

“Your timing’s off.”

Lukas didn’t raise his voice, but it carried weight anyway.

“So fix it.”

The player nodded quickly, adjusting. It was another mistake and another correction. Everything was familiar.

Until—

“Alright, that’s enough.”

The coach’s voice cut in, drawing everyone’s attention.

Lukas slowed, turning just slightly as the rest of the team gathered. He didn’t think much of it at first… it was normal for new recruits to be introduced mid-season.

But something about the coach’s tone felt… deliberate.

“We’ve got a new addition!” he laughed. “He's a natural! Says he's been training since 14! He might be as good as Lukas,” and that's what got his attention. Murmurs spread lightly through the group but Lukas barely reacted, resting one hand against his stick as he looked on, his expression was still neutral.

Then the coach stepped aside.

“Viktor Volkov.”

The name hit first… sharp and familiar. The name of the one who abandoned him. Lukas’s fingers tightened slightly around his stick and for the first time, he almost lost composure.

“No…It can't—” he spoke under his breath.

Then he looked up and his entire world had stopped. For a split second, his vision narrowed… sound fading, movement slowing as his eyes landed on the figure stepping onto the ice.

Tall, slim and composed. He looked different and yet the same. His breath caught and just for a moment, disbelief flickered across his face before he could stop it, something raw and unguarded breaking through the calmness he held so tightly.

Because standing there was someone he hadn’t seen in years, someone he had convinced himself he’d only meet again at the top, someone who abandoned him without a word… and somehow, that someone was already here.