The Rise of Victor

Victor stood in the center of the village’s communal square, a place that had transformed under his influence. Where once it was simple, earthy, and functional, it now bore subtle signs of hierarchy: Victor’s makeshift platform, elevated above the ground, a symbol of his growing authority. Around him, villagers gathered, their faces lit with a mixture of hope and trepidation.

The Creche, once enigmatic protectors who rarely involved themselves in human politics, had also begun to shift. Their behavior was less autonomous and more compliant, responding not just to environmental threats but also to Victor’s carefully worded “requests.” He had discovered, over time, the linguistic and emotional patterns that influenced them—a mix of persistence and charisma that played on their programmed adaptability, and there was something about that little metal box that he carried around. 

Victor thrived in this newfound dynamic. He wasn’t just a villager anymore; he was a leader. People sought his guidance, even if some whispered behind closed doors about his ambition. His cockiness was evident in the way he carried himself, but it didn’t alienate them—it drew them in. Confidence was magnetic, and Victor wielded it like a weapon.