Chapter 16: The Darker Path
The arena's silence was deafening after the last battle. Blood had soaked into the stone floor, but Ryo didn't feel the sting of his wounds. He sat alone in the shadows of his resting chamber, the adrenaline fading, replaced by an emptiness that gnawed at his core. The torches on the wall flickered, casting dancing shadows across his sweat-slicked skin. His breathing was shallow—not from pain, but from the weight crushing his chest.
Each battle won felt more like a piece of himself lost.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together tightly. His fists trembled—not from fear, but from doubt. The kind of doubt that seeped into your bones and made everything feel hollow.
How many more had to fall before he found Ren?
He could still hear the beast's screams from the last fight. A man turned monster, no longer capable of speech or thought. The serum had taken him completely. And Ryo—he'd stood over that creature and felt… nothing.
No pride.
No horror.
Just emptiness.
What's happening to me?
He pressed his palm to his chest, as if checking for a heartbeat. The serum inside him surged like a caged beast. It whispered promises of strength, victory, and vengeance. But behind the power, there was a hunger. A hunger that Ryo feared would never be satisfied.
He walked to the edge of the chamber, where a cracked mirror hung crooked on the wall. His reflection stared back—eyes sunken, skin tight over muscle, and something darker lurking behind the irises. He reached out to touch it, but the mirror cracked further under his fingertips, webbing the image like a fractured soul.
He saw glimpses—moments from before the Maw.
Ren laughing. Ren running beside him through the city streets. Ren reaching out to help him up after a fall.
Then came the image of Ren turning away, swallowed by darkness.
What if I'm already too far gone?
Ryo had a choice: keep fighting in this tournament that was slowly eating away at his soul, or walk away—risk everything to find Ren through another path. But walking away meant abandoning the only lead he had. Staying meant losing more of himself with each kill.
His heartbeat pounded louder.
He turned sharply as footsteps echoed from outside the chamber.
It was the old fighter from earlier rounds—Kael, a man once known for his honor, now reduced to a ghost of himself. He looked at Ryo with eyes that had seen too much.
"You feel it, don't you?" Kael rasped. "The serum—it doesn't just change your body. It rots your mind. Your soul."
Ryo didn't answer.
Kael stepped closer. "I stayed too long. Fought too hard. Won too much. And now, when I look in the mirror, I don't see myself anymore."
"I don't know if I ever had a choice," Ryo whispered.
Kael chuckled bitterly. "We all think that. Until it's too late."
There was silence between them for a moment.
Then Ryo asked, "Did you ever try to stop?"
"I did," Kael said. "But the Maw doesn't let go. Not until you're dead… or something worse."
That night, Ryo stood under the open sky of the Maw's highest tower. The stars were faint, barely visible through the smoky air. He thought of the world beyond these walls—of the wind on a quiet morning, of food that wasn't stale, of his brother's laughter.
A tear escaped his eye, unbidden.
"I don't want to become a monster."
But the Beast's Maw had no mercy.
And Ren… Ren was still out there.
As the moon dipped behind the jagged teeth of the arena walls, Ryo clenched his fists again. The serum's power thrummed through his veins, a cursed gift. But he made a vow—if he had to walk the darker path, he would do so with his eyes wide open.
He would not lose himself.
And when he found Ren, no matter what his brother had become, he would bring him back.
Or fall trying.