The House of Control

Master Jacob's Discovery

The morning was cool and quiet as Master Jacob made his way to the laborers' quarters. But as he approached the barn, a strange, heavy silence blanketed the air, one that made him pause. The usual morning noises—the shuffling footsteps, the murmured exchanges—were absent, replaced by a tension that even he could feel.

Jacob narrowed his eyes, stepping inside. The laborers were already gathered, each one standing or sitting quietly, their expressions tense. One of the workers, a young man with a wary look, stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"Master Jacob, sir," he said, his voice low. "Ty... he hasn't left his room. We've heard... mumbling, maybe crying, coming from inside. He won't come out."

Jacob felt a twinge of irritation, but also a flicker of curiosity. Ty had always been one of the most reliable workers—steady, disciplined, a man who took pride in his loyalty to The House. For him to show any hint of distress was unusual.

He walked briskly down the row of cells, stopping outside Ty's door. Taking a steadying breath, he pushed it open.

What he saw made him pause, a rare flash of surprise crossing his usually composed face.

Ty was on the floor, kneeling in front of a torn, shredded uniform, his forehead pressed to the cold stone as he muttered frantic apologies under his breath. The new overseer uniform lay in tatters, the fine fabric ripped beyond repair, the House insignia lying frayed on the floor. The sight of it made Jacob's jaw tighten, a cold anger beginning to coil within him.

When the door creaked, Ty looked up, his eyes wide with fear. The moment he saw Jacob, he scrambled forward, crawling across the floor until he was at Jacob's feet. He pressed his forehead to the ground, his voice choked with desperation.

"I'm sorry, Master Jacob," Ty whispered, his voice breaking. "I don't know... I don't know what happened. I must have failed—someone must have thought... I wasn't worthy. I..." His voice trailed off into muffled sobs, his body trembling as he continued to bow.

Jacob took a deep breath, his gaze cold and assessing. "Stop this," he ordered, his voice calm but firm. "Get up and sit on your bed."

Ty obeyed, moving slowly, his face flushed with shame as he sat, still clutching the frayed insignia. He stared down at it, his expression one of utter defeat, his shoulders slumped as if he bore the weight of the world.

"Now," Jacob said, his voice clipped, "tell me exactly what happened last night. From the moment you left the main hall."

Ty's voice shook as he recounted his every movement—leaving the dining hall, heading back to his cell, and going to bed. He described how he had locked the door behind him, feeling proud, determined to prove himself worthy of his new role.

"But this morning," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "the door... the lock was open. I found it slightly ajar. And... and then I saw... this."

Jacob's eyes narrowed, his mind working quickly, piecing together the likely scenario. This wasn't a random act—someone had planned this, slipped in quietly during the night, and shredded Ty's uniform. Whoever it was had aimed to send a message, to destroy Ty's confidence, his newfound pride.

"Take the day off," Jacob ordered, his voice harsh but not unkind. "Rest, and don't speak of this to anyone until I say so. Do you understand?"

Ty nodded, his head bowed, clutching the remnants of the uniform like a lifeline.

Jacob left Ty's cell, closing the door behind him, his mind already calculating his next steps. This wasn't an act of simple mischief. No, there was intent behind it, an act of rebellion that couldn't go unpunished.

Stepping into the common area of the barn, he addressed the assembled laborers, his gaze sharp, his voice carrying a tone of authority that silenced any murmurs.

"Until further notice," he announced, "all of you are on lockdown. No one leaves this area until I know exactly who destroyed Ty's uniform. Whoever did this," his gaze swept over them, piercing, "will face the consequences."

The silence deepened, a palpable tension settling over the group as they glanced at one another, each face a mask of worry, confusion, or dread. Jacob watched them closely, taking in every subtle shift, every nervous glance.

One of them was responsible. And until he found out who, no one would be spared.