Drained and despondent, I hung limply, allowing myself a moment of self-pity. Sebastian's violation had shattered my sense of security in ways I had never imagined possible, a torment that was deeper and far more intrusive than mere physical pain. Yet, through the haze of despair, it was the presence and silent defiance of Amerigo that helped me recover some semblance of resolve.

The man's endurance was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Even though I couldn't see him directly, I could clearly hear Sebastian's blade slicing methodically through flesh, the sickening splatter of blood on the cold stone floor echoing quietly through the small chamber. Amerigo was utterly silent as he bore the torment, never once giving Sebastian the satisfaction of hearing his pain. Occasionally, I could hear the scrape of the blade grinding against bone, a grating sound that sent chills through my own bones but Amerigo's reaction never went beyond a sharply controlled intake of breath. He was immovable. Unbreakable even. His silent defiance was a testament to his formidable willpower.

In a twisted way, his strength buoyed my own. Every moment he endured without breaking encouraged me to match his stoicism. If this man could endure such extensive and prolonged suffering, then I was determined to show equal fortitude. I had seen the countless scars that covered his body; he had endured far worse than I had yet experienced, and still he held firm. I committed then and there that I would match his resolve and cling to defiance until the very end.

Eventually, the slow dripping of Amerigo's blood turned into a steady trickle, signaling the end of Sebastian's brutal physical torture. There was a brief moment of silence. A tense and expectant couple of seconds as Sebastian had the gall to assess the man he had just put through intense torture.

"Not bad," Sebastian remarked, the casualness in his voice a chilling contrast to the horrors he had just inflicted. His tone suggested mild amusement rather than any genuine respect, like it was inevitable that he would be able to break his victim. "You really are quite determined, aren't you?"

Sebastian clearly wasn't expecting an answer, and Amerigo offered none. Instead, there was the ominous sound of chains rattling as Sebastian partially released his prisoner, preparing him for the final indignity. Moments later, I heard a sudden, guttural gasp as Amerigo's breath was violently torn from his lungs. I didn't need to see it to understand what was happening, having experienced it myself not long before. Sebastian was draining Amerigo's mana, feasting upon the essence of his victim.

It took every ounce of self-control within me not to flinch or cry out. Knowing exactly what Amerigo was experiencing made the moment even more excruciating to bear witness to. Yet, even as the sickening ordeal played out, Amerigo maintained his silence, refusing to give Sebastian any satisfaction. And I was determined to match him, holding back any reaction that might encourage Sebastian's twisted fantasies.

A burning rage rose within me; I wanted nothing more than to scream, curse, or hurl insults at Sebastian, but witnessing Amerigo's unwavering resolve inspired me to follow suit. I could sense that silence was a weapon—probably the only one we had available to us—and I was committed to wielding it. I would deny Sebastian any satisfaction, no matter how small.

After what felt like an eternity, the quiet, trembling gasps from Amerigo finally ceased, replaced instead by Sebastian's euphoric gasp.

"Oh yes! What a RUSH!" he cried out, his voice quivering with a disturbing sense of ecstasy. "The strength! The power! I can feel it all coursing through me."

Another sickening, near-orgasmic moan escaped him, echoing around the chamber and adding further insult to the violation we had just suffered.

"Forgive me, I forgot myself there," Sebastian said moments later, regaining some semblance of control. "There truly isn't anything else quite like it. You think opening a new gate gives you a rush? It's nothing compared to taking mana directly from someone else's source. It's so much more intense. So much more… intimate."

He paused, perhaps expecting some response from either of us. Like he wanted some sort of expression, whether it be fear, anger, or even curiosity, but neither Amerigo nor I gave him anything. The only sound in the room was the soft, rhythmic dripping of Amerigo's blood hitting the stone floor, a stark reminder of the brutality we'd endured. In that quiet defiance, I found a small victory; it was minuscule compared to our torment, but it mattered nonetheless and gave me something else to cling to.

Sebastian's impatience eventually won out as he broke the silence himself.

"Well, this has been delightful," he said, a genuinely pleasant note in his tone. "But it's time I returned to my fort. Those nasty creatures are still spilling from the Fracture, but thanks to your generous donation, I'm feeling more than capable of getting back quickly and handling them now."

He let out a dark chuckle, relishing his own sick joke. "See you both soon," he said with an ominous edge to his voice.

The heavy iron door slammed shut behind him, plunging us back into silence. Once more, the only sound that remained was the slow, steady drip of Amerigo's blood, each droplet a painful measure of our shared misery, but also of our shared defiance.

I wasn't sure how long to hold my silence after Sebastian left. I was worried I would break some form of torture victim etiquette. Were we meant to sit and stew in our misery? Speak up and lament our torture? It was a shame there was no guide in school for moments like that, no instructions for how to behave after being tortured alongside someone else. I almost chuckled at my own thoughts before I got myself under control.

A part of me desperately wanted to whisper words of comfort or encouragement to Amerigo given the extent of what he had gone through because it sure sounded worse than what I had, but uncertainty kept my mouth shut. I didn't know if Amerigo had slipped into some mental state that kept him going through Sebastian's sadism, and interrupting that felt wrong. So I stayed quiet, listening to the drip-drip-drip of his blood until I nearly broke and had to bite my tongue to stop words from coming out. I didn't know the man. I didn't owe him anything. For all I knew, he was just waiting to set me up.

The betrayal by Tom had shaken me deeply and every instinct I had to comfort Amerigo was overshadowed by suspicion. Sebastian was exactly the sort of monster who would plant someone nearby to earn my trust, only to snatch it away when it would hurt the most. Amerigo had been truthful about the chains and Sebastian's vampirism, but that didn't prove anything yet. Tom had been truthful about plenty before ultimately betraying me. It was the perfect trap, and the more I thought about it, the harder it was to shake the feeling that I was being set up for another devastating fall.

I was deep into these dark thoughts when the heavy iron door opened again, shaking me from my spiral of paranoia. I twisted as best I could in my restraints, craning my neck to see who entered, but my position made it impossible. All I managed to pick out were three distinct sets of footsteps, none of them matching Sebastian's confident stride, but more hesitant, more routine.

"You know the drill, Amerigo," one of the new arrivals said, sounding bored, almost mechanical. "Don't try to kick me, don't try to hit me with your body, don't try to escape at all. I'm going to use my power to heal you, but the scars will remain. Any attempt to delay my actions will be met with force by the two guards with me. Am I clear?"

Amerigo remained silent, offering no response, not even the faintest indication he'd heard them and I made a mental note that we weren't just ignoring Sebastian, we were icing everyone out. The mentality helped me. Speaking to thoughts inside that were screaming about everyone else being an enemy. If I didn't interact with them, they couldn't manipulate me. Couldn't betray me.

The healer sighed loudly, the sound laced with irritation or perhaps resignation. "Right, here we go," he said. "Eat this."

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After a minute or two of muffled chewing sounds, the healer spoke up again.

"Okay, you can drop your power now, and I'll take over healing you."

Those words caught my attention, igniting my curiosity and shoving aside my earlier doubts. Amerigo was actively using some sort of power and it was a power that the healer explicitly required him to stop using. My mind raced through possibilities. Was Amerigo's power similar to my own? Could he heal himself, at least partially? It made sense. How else would he have survived Sebastian's abuse long enough to accumulate those countless scars? I racked my brain but I couldn't think of another reason he would have had it activated and them not reacting negatively to it.

I listened carefully, determined to glean whatever I could from the brief exchange. It wasn't much to go on, but the realization that Amerigo held a power similar enough to interfere with external healing was valuable. I knew from experience just how rare and dangerous healing abilities were. I wondered if there was a way I could get him to share details about his power without giving him anything in return.

The thought triggered a flare of anger within me and I had to bite down on my own growing resentment, a silent fury bubbling to the surface at the injustice of our situation. Here we were, two men capable of incredible resilience, forced into submission by a maniac who saw us as nothing more than resources to be drained and discarded.

A slight trembling noise filled the room, presumably from whatever healing magic the man was performing on Amerigo. Aside from my own unique abilities, I had never personally witnessed a magical healer at work before. Still, I'd heard enough stories to know abilities took countless forms, and the subtle vibration in the air seemed like a reasonable side effect. At least, that's how my mind rationalized it. I couldn't come up with a better explanation, anyway. After a couple of minutes, it gradually stopped, replaced by the clinking of chains as Amerigo was fully restrained once again.

"That took it out of me," the healer coughed wearily, breathing heavily as he stepped back. "Come on, let's go."

"What about the other one?" one of the guards asked, his voice sounding indifferent but mildly curious.

"The boss said he'd be fine," the healer responded sharply, clearly annoyed at the question. "Just give him his food and let's get out of here."

Heavy footsteps approached, and soon a man—presumably one of the guards—stepped into view in front of me. I fixed him with my fiercest glare, wishing I could channel my rage into some hidden destructive ability. Unfortunately, nothing happened except the guard raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"He looks fine enough," the guard said casually after giving me a brief glance, a slightly confused look in his eye.

"Exactly," the healer replied, exasperated. "That's probably why Sebastian said to leave him alone. Now can we please go? It's a waste of my talents being stuck down here anyway."

"Better not let the boss hear you say that," the other guard chuckled, clearly amused by his companion's discomfort.

The healer groaned impatiently. "Come on, Henrick. Let's just leave. If the kid's untouched, it probably means the boss hasn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe he can heal himself. Who cares? Either way, I have far better things to do than sit around this miserable, damp prison all day."

Henrick—the guard who had been eyeing me—frowned slightly before holding a ball of clump oats up.

"Open wide," he said, a grin appearing on his face as he took some strange enjoyment from feeding me.

I did as instructed and he slowly fed me the horrible clump. It was slimy and thick but at least it was food. I managed to force the whole thing down my throat with minimal wincing. A part of me was glad it wasn't Sebastian feeding me because I didn't think I could be stoic enough to prevent emotion showing whilst consuming it. When I was finally done, Hennrick followed the other two men out the cell door. The iron hinges squeaked as it slammed shut, leaving us once again in oppressive silence.

Long after the sound of their footsteps had receded into the depths of the prison, Amerigo finally spoke up.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone perfectly calm and neutral, as if he were inquiring about something trivial like the weather.

The sheer casualness of his voice shocked me into silence for a moment, forcing me to steady myself before replying in kind.

"I'm fine. Been through worse," I lied, trying and failing to match his air of detachment.

"No, you have not," Amerigo responded immediately, seeing through my feeble posturing attempt.

A sigh escaped me. "No, I haven't," I admitted softly, seeing no reason to lie. "The cutting was bad, but when he ripped the mana out of me…it was unlike anything I've ever experienced."

My voice fell to little more than a whisper as I spoke, memories of the pain still fresh and vivid. Without meaning to, I asked a question that revealed my vulnerability.

"How do you deal with it?"

A silence stretched between us. It lasted so long that I began to think he'd chosen not to answer at all, and my embarrassment deepened at my moment of weakness.

"Practice," he finally replied, a single word spoken in that same indifferent tone. Yet, hidden beneath that facade, I could clearly sense a profound sadness. It was one that resonated in me more deeply than I liked. "Just remember, Brandon, Sebastian will eventually overdo it. You have seen him after he drains us. The thrill it gives him. He cannot stop himself from chasing it. The man is an addict, and like most addicts, his vice will be the end of him. All we have to do is endure, stay alive, and eventually, we will have the satisfaction of watching him die. No matter how powerful he becomes, he cannot escape that fate."

His words stirred something within me, a brief glimmer of hope, or perhaps trust. But almost immediately, memories of Tom's betrayal surged back to the surface, extinguishing any budding trust before it could take root. The phrase "trust me" now felt like a red flag, an alarm that immediately caused my defenses to rise. Amerigo might seem genuine, but so had Tom.

Fear and suspicion overwhelmed me, and I abruptly fell silent, withdrawing into myself. Amerigo quickly sensed my shift in mood, and after several long, quiet moments passed, he chose not to speak again. Silence once again descended upon our cell, heavy and oppressive, leaving me trapped alone with my thoughts and doubts.

He might have been right about waiting for Sebastian to die. Perhaps everything he said was true, but in my current state of mind, after what had happened with Tom, I simply couldn't allow myself to believe it. Trust was off the table which meant talking would be difficult. Without anything available to me, I focused on the one thing I knew I could actually use: my magic.

Sure, the chains prevented me from using mana to any obvious benefit, punishing me with pain whenever I tried. But as I'd discovered earlier, they didn't stop me entirely and I could still manage to channel a small trickle. All this talk about gates had me thinking about ways to push my power further, even within my current constraints. So, several hours after Amerigo and I had last spoken, I quietly began pulling mana into my body.

The pain was instant but manageable at first. The chains seemed to react to the amount of mana rather than its mere presence. I couldn't immediately see how to exploit that knowledge to escape, but it still gave me hope. It meant I could, at the very least, practice and perhaps grow stronger despite the situation. Eventually, though, the burning pain in my wrists and ankles became impossible to ignore, and reluctantly, I released my hold on the mana, breathing heavily as I recovered.

"That lasted longer than I thought," Amerigo's voice abruptly cut through the silence, startling me enough to set the chains rattling as I jolted. "Your willpower is impressive."

"What?" I exclaimed, unable to hide my shock.

"I could hear your breathing change," he explained calmly. "You were channeling mana, yes?"

When I remained silent, unwilling to confirm anything, he continued anyway.

"As I said, that was longer than expected. You did well, but do not overdo it. Sebastian would not be pleased if he returns for another fix and finds you too drained for him to pull from. Someone tried that once, hoping to deny him. Sebastian spent the next week methodically draining him until he was nothing but a broken husk begging for death."

His words sent a chill down my spine.

"You should be fine for now, though," Amerigo continued conversationally. "He usually waits a few days between visits, especially during one of your… what do you call them? A 'Trial'? No, that's not it. But you know what I mean. During those events, Sebastian visits maybe once in the entire week, so you have a little time to experiment."

I remained silent again, wary of revealing anything he might use against me. Still, I absorbed the information carefully, storing it away for future reference. If he was right, Amerigo had just given me invaluable insight into Sebastian's behavior. The thought of possibly owing him a debt didn't sit well with me, the feeling warring with my mistrust until I eventually gave in, feeling compelled to not leave him talking alone.

"It's called a Challenge," I said quietly. "We call it the Challenge."

"Ah, yes," Amerigo replied softly, his voice subtly different, perhaps even bordering on warmth. "That's right. A Challenge."

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