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Systems of Ugliness

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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
A single kid catches your eye when you look at that good-looking bunch. Folks can’t help but notice her - everyone watches when the oldest girl walks by, glowing in a way that feels like something out of a dream. He wins them over without trying, the little brother with a face so open they believe every word he says before he even speaks. One more kid shows up - same parents, different path altogether. Faces turn away before words are spoken, eyes darting like they’ve seen something wrong. His reflection draws stares no matter where he stands, kin or stranger alike caught off guard by what they see. Siblings laugh nearby, bright and familiar, yet somehow that warmth sharpens the distance. Quiet comments slip through hallways, folding into each other until every step echoes with judgment. A present arrives when he turns sixteen, handed over by those who raised him. A mask. Wait - this isn’t humor. Forget looks. What matters is asking straight up, with weight. He gets asked if he’ll put it on. Always. When his face stays out of view, life just works better for people around him. Starting out, the mask serves only to block glances, murmurs, hushed judgment - things he's learned to expect. Yet once life unfolds beneath it, odd shifts take root. Something shifts in how they act around him. One by one, paths that blocked his way now let him through. The mask hums with something unspoken - like it always had a purpose beyond being just a thing to wear. What hides beneath a scorned expression might be worse than imagined. A dismissed look can mask what no one dares to name. Quiet rejection often shields sharper truths. The familiar frown could guard something wilder than myth suggests. Few see past the surface of someone pushed aside. Hidden behind that unwelcome stare - something restless waits. After all… What hides under the bed might start as a thought. A worry shaped by hands that was never meant to proper but it grows teeth anyway. Fears twist familiar faces into something harder to face than shadows. Made real not by claws but by nights spent feeding them. The loudest roar comes from inside the chest, not the dark.
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Chapter 1 - Why?

The day Cassian received his birthday gift was the day he learned that even a family could look at someone and feel nothing but shame.

Rain tapped quietly against the windows of the small dining room, the gray sky outside pressing down on the house like a heavy weight. The table had been decorated, though not with the warmth one might expect from a celebration. A single cake sat in the center, its frosting slightly uneven, three candles already lit.

Cassian stood at the end of the table.

He kept his eyes low, as he always did.

Across from him sat his siblings.

Emma, his younger sister, looked like something that belonged in a painting rather than a house like this. Her hair fell in soft golden waves over her shoulders, and her eyes were bright, clear, and gentle. When she walked into a room, people noticed immediately. Even now, the candlelight seemed to favor her, painting her in warm colors.

Beside her sat Jack.

Jack had the sort of face people trusted instantly. Sharp jawline, clean features, the effortless confidence of someone who had never known rejection. Teachers liked him. Strangers smiled at him. Life seemed to open doors for him without effort.

And then there was Cassian.

Even he knew the truth of it.

His face was… wrong.

Not merely ugly. Ugly could still be ordinary. His features were twisted in ways that made people uncomfortable the moment they looked too long. Eyes that never seemed symmetrical. A crooked structure to his jaw. Skin that looked harsh beneath the light.

People stared.

Children whispered.

Adults quickly looked away.

Even mirrors felt like enemies.

Emma avoided looking at him.

Jack barely acknowledged him.

And their parents… had stopped trying long ago.

"Open it," Jack said, sliding a small box across the table.

His voice held no excitement. No warmth.

Just impatience.

Cassian hesitated before reaching for it.

The box was simple, wrapped in plain paper. Too small for something meaningful, too deliberate to be random.

Emma watched him quietly, her expression unreadable.

Cassian slowly tore the paper and opened the lid.

Inside was a mask.

White porcelain.

Smooth and expressionless.

Perfectly shaped.

The kind of face he would never have.

For a moment, Cassian simply stared at it.

Jack leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"It suits you," he said casually.

Cassian didn't respond.

Emma finally spoke, her voice soft but distant.

"You should wear it."

Cassian's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the box.

Jack continued.

"It would make things easier for everyone."

The rain outside grew heavier.

"You know how people react when they see you," Jack added. "This way… they won't have to."

Emma nodded faintly.

"It's better if you just keep it on."

Cassian finally looked up.

Jack met his gaze without hesitation.

Emma did not.

Jack smiled slightly.

"Think of it as a favor to the world."

A long silence settled over the room.

The candles flickered.

Cassian slowly lifted the mask from the box.

The porcelain surface felt cold against his fingers.

Perfect.

Smooth.

Unblemished.

Everything his own face was not.

He raised it to his face.

The mask settled over his features with quiet finality.

Jack let out a satisfied breath.

"Much better."

Emma finally looked at him again.

But not at Cassian.

Only at the mask.

"Happy birthday," she said.

Cassian said nothing.

Because behind the porcelain face, hidden from everyone in the room, his expression was something none of them would ever see again.