The men standing before the two boys seemed almost surreal—less like ordinary people and more like figures ripped straight out of a fairy tale, only dressed in sharp, modern attire.
"The hell, man? These clowns already look like a bunch of assholes. You seriously thinkin' of playin' nice with 'em?" Leo growled under his breath, fists clenched tight. "Swear to god, I'd love to smash their goddamn skulls in right now." His anger was boiling over, hot and raw, but Timeo stayed as composed as ever.
It was clear Timeo was thinking several moves ahead, his calmness almost eerie. If they were going to get out of this mess, they might have to earn these strangers' trust first.
"Hold it together," Timeo muttered lowly, his voice firm but quiet.
Just then, something strange stirred in Leo's mind. A flicker of recognition. He narrowed his eyes, a puzzled look crossing his face.
"I swear... that voice. Even all messed up like that... it sounds way too fuckin' familiar."
Leo kept staring, the gears grinding in his head. His scowl deepened with every passing second. Then, all at once, it clicked. His body tensed like a loaded spring.
"No way..." Leo muttered, almost to himself. He pointed an accusatory finger at the man in front of them. "I fuckin' knew it! You're Souta Nishikawa, ain't you?! Gym teacher... dance instructor... Yuna Nishikawa's old man!"
Timeo's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, watching the situation unfold.
The man paused, then chuckled—a low, almost theatrical sound. Slowly, he reached up, unfastening the straps behind his head. With a swift pull, he yanked off the black mask, revealing a rugged face beneath, sharp and aged but unmistakable.
"Well, damn," Souta said with a sly grin, "guess the cat's outta the bag."
Leo practically snarled, jabbing a finger toward him. "You're that sleazebag everyone's whisperin' about behind your back! Beat the shit outta your students. Get your kicks stalkin' freshmen online, huh?! Thought ya could hide behind a fancy fuckin' mask?!"
Souta's grin stiffened. He waved a hand dismissively, the casual facade cracking just slightly. "Hearsay. Stupid rumors cooked up by bratty kids with no discipline. You think you know anything about me?"
"Bullshit!" Leo snapped, stepping closer to the bars. "You think we don't talk? Everyone knows what you do behind closed doors! You ain't foolin' anybody, old man."
Souta's eyes narrowed. For a moment, the room seemed to chill. The guards on either side of him stiffened, shifting their spears subtly forward.
Still, Timeo kept calm, analyzing every move.
"I don't have time to entertain the delusions of some mouthy dropout," Souta said coldly. "Fact is, you're on my turf now. And if you don't learn to shut up and listen, you're gonna find yourself a hell of a lot worse off than just locked in a cage."
Leo laughed darkly, defiant. "Yeah? Try me, motherfucker. I'm not scared of some washed-up gym creep playin' dress-up."
Before things could escalate further, Timeo stepped forward slightly, raising his voice just enough to cut through the tension.
"We're not here to start a fight," he said steadily, locking eyes with Souta. "But if you think you can bully us like your students, you're dead wrong."
Souta stared at them both in silence for a long moment, the faint smirk never fully fading from his face.
"Brave little bastards, aren't you," he said at last. "Might just be useful after all."
"Cut the fuckin' act, Nishizawa!" Leo barked, his voice echoing off the cell walls. "I know exactly what you are! Hiding behind the goddamn school, usin' your status to mess with people! All those girls... they're probably livin' in fuckin' hell 'cause of you!"
Souta chuckled lowly, like he found Leo's anger amusing — almost beneath him. He folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head in mock thought.
"Girls, boys, students... they're all the same," Souta said casually, shrugging like he was talking about animals instead of human beings. "Weak. Lost. They need someone strong to guide them... someone like me. I give them structure, rules. Without me? They'd just be wandering little failures."
His smirk twisted into something even nastier. "Besides... some of them enjoy a little attention. They crave it. They just don't admit it. They need a king to rule over 'em. Someone to show 'em their place."
Leo's fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. His whole body trembled with rage.
"You sick son of a bitch!!" he roared, and in a blur of motion, he lunged at Souta, ready to tear him apart with his bare hands.
But the guards were faster. Two of them intercepted him mid-charge, seizing his arms.
One brutal shove and Leo was slammed against the wall with a sickening thud, his head snapping back.
"Ghhk—!" Leo coughed, struggling against the iron grip.
Timeo had tried to move too, instinctively, but another guard caught him, pinning him just as roughly to the opposite wall. The cold stone dug painfully into his back as he stayed pinned by a single arm across his chest, stopping any sudden movements.
"Fiery little bastard, huh?" Souta said, stepping forward until he loomed just a few feet from Leo's face. His grin stretched wider. "I like that spirit. Shame you don't know how to use it properly."
Leo thrashed against the guards, but they tightened their hold, keeping him completely immobilized.
"You wanna keep playing the tough guy?" Souta said, voice dropping to a low, mocking whisper. "Or are you gonna sit still and listen to what I have to offer?"
Timeo, breathing steadily through his nose, kept his gaze fixed on Souta, silently searching for a way to flip this situation.
"No way in hell— nghh— I'm listenin' to your goddamn bullshit!" Leo spat, his voice thick with rage and defiance. His whole body twisted violently as he tried to break free from the guards' iron grips, but it was no use. They pinned him even harder against the wall, crushing the fight out of him little by little.
Souta Nishizawa watched him struggle for a moment, amused by the display. Then, without a single warning, he stepped forward and drove his boot hard into Leo's side.
"Urghh!" Leo grunted, the breath ripped from his lungs.
Another swift, brutal kick struck him in the stomach. Then another to his thigh, and one more across his ribs for good measure. Each impact echoed off the walls with a sickening thud, the strikes methodical, cruel, and calculated.
Leo sagged slightly between the guards, coughing, but still trying to glare up at Souta through gritted teeth.
"You're nothing but a dog barking at a lion," Souta sneered, wiping his shoe against the floor like Leo's body was dirt he needed to get rid of.
Meanwhile, Timeo said nothing. He kept his eyes tightly shut, his body rigid as stone against the wall. But inside, his heart pounded like a war drum, each beat faster, louder, almost deafening in his ears.
He could feel the blood rushing in his veins, fury and fear battling for dominance, but he forced himself to stay silent.
To wait.
Because unlike Leo, he knew — this wasn't the time to move. Not yet.
Leo's body trembled from the sheer amount of pain coursing through him. Every breath was a struggle, his ribs burning with each shallow inhale. His legs barely held him upright, only the iron grip of the guards keeping him from collapsing onto the cold, filthy floor. His fingers twitched uselessly at his sides, his muscles screaming for relief, for escape, for anything but this.
Souta Nishizawa watched the boy with detached amusement, as if admiring a pitiful creature squirming under his heel. A smirk tugged at the edge of his lips as he turned to one of his men.
"You," he said lazily, pointing without even looking. "Bring me my blade."
Without hesitation, one of the guards pulled a narrow blade from his belt — it was crude, no bigger than a kitchen knife, but its edge gleamed wickedly under the dim lights. Souta plucked it from the guard's hand with the air of a man selecting a fine tool.
He turned back to Leo, spinning the blade once between his fingers.
"You know," Souta mused aloud, his tone almost casual, "sometimes... dogs like you? They aren't worth the trouble of a cage. Better to put them down."
Leo's head sagged for a moment, his battered body unable to keep itself steady. But even through the haze of pain, he lifted his eyes, glaring at Souta with pure, undiluted hatred.
Souta chuckled at the sight, twirling the blade once more before stepping closer, raising the weapon lazily to chest height.
Timeo, still pinned against the wall, felt his whole body lock up.
His heart thundered even harder now, roaring in his ears.
No...
He clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his palms.
Not yet... not yet...
The blade in Souta's hand hovered just inches from Leo's bruised skin, close enough that Leo could feel the faint chill of the metal near his ribs — but then, at the last second, Souta paused, savoring the fear, the helplessness. Drawing out the moment.
A twisted grin spread across his face.
As everything seemed to slow down around him, a voice — deep, ancient, almost detached — stirred from within Timeo's heart.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't rushed.
It flowed like molten iron.
"Is this what you truly... want...? To be... chained... to the wall like an animal... To be... commanded... like a tool...? To stand by, and watch... as life... is crushed right before your eyes...?"
The words stretched through the air inside him, filling the hollow parts of his soul that fear had carved out.
"You are not... a spectator... You are not... a shadow clinging to the wall... You... are ALIVE. Your heart still beats... doesn't it...?"
Timeo's heart thudded harder, as if in answer.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pain building in his chest — but the voice continued, relentless, deliberate.
"That pulse... that fire... is not meant... to be wasted... It... is meant... to break... your chains. It is meant to defy THOSE who believe they own you..."
Images flashed behind Timeo's eyes — Leo, coughing blood; Souta grinning with his sick arrogance; the guards holding them down like prey.
"You think... silence... will save you? You believe... obedience will protect you...?"
A heavy pause and a breath of darkness.
"You are wrong!"
The voice grew colder... heavier.
"If you do nothing. You will lose everything. Your freedom. Your pride. Your soul..."
A slow, aching beat of silence passed. Then, a final question — slower and sharper than anything before:
"Will you submit...? Or will you FIGHT...?"
The wall pressing against Timeo's back felt like it was disappearing.
The guard's weight... like paper.
All that existed now was the burning thunder inside his chest — an unstoppable force waiting to be unleashed.
The black chains, twisted and burning with flames darker than the void, coiled tighter around Timeo's body. They weren't mere shackles — they were alive, pulsing with every beat of his frantic heart, branding his skin with the weight of forgotten centuries. The flames hissed and spat embers into the air, casting the broken corridor in a twisted, flickering twilight.
From deep within the earth, a roar thundered out — not a sound, but a force that ripped across the ground like a shockwave.
The guards, the proud men who had pinned them so easily before, were flung backwards with helpless screams, their bodies crashing into the stone walls. Lanterns and broken iron rained down upon them, burying them under rubble and dust.
Souta staggered back, his mouth agape in disbelief.
"What the hell is happening?!" he shouted, his voice cracking, his bravado evaporating into sheer panic.
And Timeo...
He didn't move.
He didn't even seem to breathe.
Standing there, shackled by darkness, his head low, his face shadowed, he radiated an aura so heavy, so unnatural, that even the dust dared not settle upon him.
Before him, as if summoned by the will of something ancient and merciless, a blade materialized.
Long, blacker than the deepest nights, it floated serenely between the chains. Its edge gleamed with a faint light, as though the stars themselves had bled into its steel. It called to him, humming with a slow, inevitable rhythm that echoed in his bones.
And then the voice returned — slow, cold, like the grinding of mountains, but with fewer endless pauses.
"If you truly desire to live beyond this hollow existence... If you wish to shed the skin they forced upon you...You must take it."
The blade drifted closer, its tip whispering promises Timeo could not ignore.
"Grip the weapon forged from your silent suffering. Place its truth against your throat... Sever the weak vessel you have clung to. And awaken."
The chains quivered in time with the words. The flames coiled higher, black tongues tasting the air.
"You were never meant to crawl at their feet. You were never destined to endure their chains. You are not their pawn, their tool, their broken plaything. You are something far greater."
The black blade seemed to vibrate with hunger now, yearning to be wielded.
"All the lies they whispered into your ear... All the beatings you endured, all the cages they locked you in... They were building this moment."
The voice became a near-growl, sharp, electrifying.
"You are the storm that will shatter their false thrones. You are the blade that will carve a path through their corruption. You are the beginning... and their end."
The chains surged tighter for a moment, almost in warning.
"But choose. Choose now. Remain a hollow shell... Or reach for the blade... and ascend."
The corridor around him faded into silence, like the world itself had been peeled away.
There was no Souta, no Leo, no crumbling prison.
Only him.
Only the black fire.
Only the waiting sword.
His hands trembled, but not from fear.
They moved slowly, drawn forward by something deeper than instinct.
By destiny.
Timeo's fingers hovered above the hilt, the coolness of the dark steel caressing his skin.
The voice spoke one last time — a low rumble that echoed straight into his soul:
"Slice away your weakness. Bury the boy they tried to kill. And awaken... the true you."
And for the first time, Timeo's eyes opened — burning, reflecting not light, but the depthless darkness of the blade before him.
To be continued...