Pain wracked my body as Sebastian concluded our latest torture session. Simply slicing into my skin was no longer enough for him and he'd graduated to cutting away small pieces of my muscle. It had seemingly started as an experiment, but once he discovered my power allowed me to regenerate even that, the gruesome practice became a regular part of his visits. Each removal was painful enough to force me to grit my teeth until they felt as though they might shatter. Despite the agony, I felt a grim gratitude that he wasn't aware of my newly discovered power to reshape my body. Truthfully, even I was uncertain of its full capabilities but I shuddered at the thought of what twisted experiments Sebastian might dream up if he ever found out.
When he finally unshackled my ankles and my feet hit the ground, I tensed instinctively at what was to come. My gates opened and mana surged through my body, washing over the injuries and repairing muscle and tissue in its wake. Like usual, the healing was close to euphoric, bringing intense relief to each area it reached. But I couldn't savor it. My mind was already bracing for the inevitable horror of what would come next with Sebastian's feeding.
The instant my body was restored, he was upon me, his hand gripping the back of my neck as he drained the mana directly from my gates. Though it was as violently invasive and excruciating as ever, having the second gate open meant my mana emptied quicker. It was a twisted mercy; the pain intensified across two points, but at least it would be over faster. The speed of it draining seemed to catch him off guard though, and as lost in his consumption as he was, he had to physically tear himself away from me, shoving me backward as he stumbled away, panting heavily. He'd taken far more than usual, leaving me dangerously low. Maybe only five percent of my mana reserves remaining. My vision blurred, my body limp with exhaustion.
"Oh… my," Sebastian gasped, running his tongue hungrily over his teeth as he looked away, savoring the rush that coursed through him. His eyes glazed with the unmistakable ecstasy of a man who'd just received a powerful hit.
For a moment, all I could do was breathe heavily, watching him cautiously through half-closed eyes. As he composed himself, he suddenly snapped his attention back to me, and a look of wild desperation flickered across his face. It was one I recognized from addicts on the streets, driven nearly mad with craving. Whatever he'd felt had overwhelmed him, and he clearly wanted more.
Sebastian stepped toward me again, and shamefully, fear must have flashed across my face, because he paused his movement. For once, he didn't smile cruelly or mockingly. Instead, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, holding the breath until the trembling subsided. When he opened them again, he was back from the edge. Only just though. I could see it in the glint of his eyes. The hunger was barely contained. He'd managed to restrain it for the time being but I could see it there, waiting to pounce.
In a burst of shadow-fueled speed, Sebastian moved across the room, re-chaining my ankles and lifting me into position before I could even process the action. Then, as swiftly as he had chained me, he appeared by the table, selecting another knife for his time with Amerigo. His movements still pulsed with unnatural power, clearly enhanced by the mana he'd ripped from my body, intoxicated by the thrill of it.
For the first time, I genuinely began to understand what Amerigo meant about the depth of Sebastian's addiction. The way he hungrily siphoned my mana, the manic gleam in his eyes, and the twisted smile that curled at his lips all pointed towards a man barely holding back his insatiable urges. A chill ran through me as I realised how precarious my situation truly was. There was a real chance Sebastian might lose control and drain me completely before I had an opportunity to escape.
Thankfully, Amerigo's torture session went by quickly, and I wasn't left fretting for long. It seemed Sebastian was rushing through his work, lacking the disturbing diligence and attention to detail and precision he typically displayed.
"You surprised me, Brandon," he said suddenly, breaking the tense silence that had lasted since he had finished with me. His voice had an eerie calmness, though his eyes were still alight with a manic energy. "A second gate. How marvellous."
He paused, momentarily captivated by the bloodied blade he wiped with a cloth, as if savouring the memory of what he'd just done.
"The rush was… Unexpected. And intoxicating. I have gotten so used to the careful amounts I extract that I had forgotten how intense the feeling can be when you draw out enough. It made me realise I have been foolish in my approach. Yes, indulgent, slow, hesitant." He shook his head with a distracted look on his face, speaking as though he was gently reprimanding himself.
"Mykov's plan is taking too long. Filling the prisons with feeders is inefficient. Inadequate. I see that now. We need power, power beyond anyone's imagination, and we need it quickly, before the others can figure it out and catch up," he clenched and unclenched his fist, lost in thought, eyes fixed on a bare patch of the wall.
Suddenly, he turned sharply back toward me, the intensity in his gaze almost unbearable.
"And here you are, my brother's killer," he whispered, stepping closer, his eyes glowing with hunger and ambition. "Overflowing with mana, still growing stronger. It's only logical that I use you to power myself. To fuel my ascension. We have had our fun but it's time we got serious."
A cold dread filled me at his words, and he chuckled, obviously reading the panic on my face. With a sickening gentleness, he caressed my cheek, before roughly gripping it, forcing me to meet his eyes.
"Don't worry. Your end has not arrived yet," he whispered intimately, his voice silky yet filled with menace. "Not just yet. For now, I shall increase my visits. Ensure nothing is being wasted. It would be foolish to squander such an abundant supply of mana."
He released me abruptly, and I sagged back into my restraints, heart hammering
"Speaking of which…"
He vanished into shadows, reappearing instantly behind me, Amerigo's chains rattling as the other man silently endured Sebastian's feeding. I held my breath, terrified Sebastian would lose control and drain Amerigo completely. Yet, to my relief Sebastian regained his composure, managing to pull back from the brink.
"Yes, I think we will be seeing each other more often. Much more often," he said as exited the room. Leaving us both reeling from the implications.
"How are you feeling?" Amerigo asked once the guards had long since departed and no other sounds disrupted our silence.
"I'm okay," I replied, managing a steady voice despite the ache in my bones. "He took more than usual this time, but I can already feel myself recovering. How about you? He didn't hurt you worse than usual, did he?"
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Small pangs of guilt gnawed at me as I asked the question, even though I knew Sebastian's sadistic impulses weren't my fault. If I hadn't opened the second gate, perhaps our torture would have continued at its previous intensity. Yet even knowing that, I couldn't regret my decision. Sebastian was a psychopathic monster. Any advantage I could gain in this horrible place was one I desperately needed, no matter the consequences. Still, I felt sympathy for Amerigo and the small part I might have inadvertently played in increasing his suffering.
Amerigo, however, let out a dry chuckle. "Strangely, no. He skipped activating my power entirely today. A rare occurrence indeed. I believe I can count on one hand how many times that has happened before. It seems you have thoroughly discombobulated him with all the mana he managed to pull from you. It seems the volume and speed he was able to extract was a little too much."
"You think it'll be a problem?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice. "These extra visits?"
"Oh yes," Amerigo replied smoothly. "But no problem for us—a problem for him. The balance has shifted now. The scales have moved too far with that last pull. Sebastian's addiction is controlling him completely, whether he realizes it or not. He was already a slave to his urges but this will be too much. He is chained to those cravings, unable to resist drawing mana from us. Mark my words Brandon, even if he opens another gate himself, he will keep draining us, and that is when his real problems will begin."
Amerigo had said variations of this statement many times over the days we'd been imprisoned together. But after witnessing Sebastian's behavior today, I felt myself truly believing it for the first time. I had no evidence other than Amerigo's word that Sebastian's mana would ultimately destroy him from the inside, but under such desperate conditions, hope could latch onto the smallest of possibilities. And this was one I was wishing would be true.
Of course, there was a risk. Hope could be a dangerous thing, especially if it were cruelly torn away. Yet, trapped as I was, suspended in chains and subject to endless torment, survival itself was a fragile hope. It required belief, something to strive toward. I couldn't deny myself the small comfort of trusting Amerigo in this, even if it turned out he was wrong.
Besides, even if Sebastian somehow escaped the fate Amerigo described, it wouldn't end my struggle. I'd simply need another way out. With my newfound second gate and the powers it brought with it, a new avenue was already opening before me. If I could keep growing, I would increase the amount of options available to me and then one day it would all line up. It was a belief I clung to tightly, convinced that it would come true and an opportunity for escape would inevitably present itself.
That night, I did my best to make it a reality by practising with my newfound ability. Well, "practising" is a bit of an overstatement. Despite every instinct screaming that reshaping my body was possible, I simply couldn't grasp how to make it happen. I wasn't sure if the blockage was due to the amount of mana required or if I lacked the proper mental trigger like I had with my healing. It might have just been the shackles restraining me, or a larger psychological problem but either way I ended up dissipating so much mana in my failed attempts that anxiety crept in, and I worried Sebastian would immediately notice the difference during his next visit. Fortunately, my luck continued to hold out.
When Sebastian returned the following day, his frustration at finding me drained was palpable, but he didn't seem suspicious. Instead, he scowled at my diminished capacity, irritation etched into his features.
"Pathetic," he growled, frustration clear in his voice after he'd finished draining me. "This recovery is not enough! I need more. There are plans in place now. I cannot fall behind."
He paced angrily, running a hand through his hair before turning sharply to Amerigo. "It seems Brandon needs a little more time to recharge," Sebastian spat bitterly. "Fortunately, I know I can always count on you."
I had managed to get away with it. I had to suppress the overwhelming sigh of relief that threatened to escape me, careful not to give the game away to Sebastian. He still took his fill of mana, leaving me drained and weak, but I had successfully convinced him my recovery rate was worse than it actually was. The tiny spark of hope within me began to glow brighter, and I felt I was one step closer to escaping my torment.
My second ability proved elusive the following night as well though. Despite every attempt to understand or activate it, I couldn't quite grasp how it worked, particularly under those grueling conditions. With frustration creeping in, I instead turned my attention back to my healing ability, trying to think of ways I could utilise it to break free. An outline of a plan began forming in my mind, fragile but promising.
Sebastian's constant torture had taught me my healing was incredibly potent. It had gone far beyond mending mere cuts or bruises and I'd successfully regrown muscles, nerves, and even repaired bone. This led me to believe that if I could disfigure or damage my wrists or ankles enough, I could slip out of the chains and subsequently heal the injuries I caused. I hadn't yet regrown a full limb or appendage, but anything just short of that, I felt confident I could manage. However, getting out of the chains was only the first hurdle; my next major issue was what came after.
The guards always locked the door after they'd finished healing Amerigo and checked on us, but I'd never heard anything suggesting it was more than a simple lock. That gave me hope that with the right tools it could be picked, though acquiring such tools was an obvious problem. Beyond that, even if I succeeded in getting out of the cell, I'd still face a prison filled with guards. I needed to know more if I wanted to build a viable plan.
"Amerigo," I whispered into the darkness.
"Yes?" came his equally quiet reply.
"If we got free of the chains—like if Sebastian died—how would we get out of the prison?"
A brief silence hung between us before Amerigo responded. "Right through the front door, my friend. Directly through it."
There was a quiet confidence in his voice, but I couldn't help feeling skeptical.
"You make it sound so simple," I said. "But what about the guards? What about the rest of the prison?"
Amerigo chuckled softly, his tone tinged with bitterness. "This world is barren of mana compared to the rest of the universe. Sebastian is the exception here, not the rule. From what I have observed, the guards who accompany the healer are amateurs. Completely devoid of mana, untrained in facing anyone with our abilities. If they are truly representative of this place's best, then I would stake my life on our ability to overcome them. Especially together. Your healing, my resilience… Even if you are no great fighter, they stand no chance."
"So, your plan is just to fight your way out?" I asked, not hiding my doubt. No matter how confident he sounded, fighting through an entire prison of guards still felt unrealistic.
"Yes," he said simply, without hesitation. "I understand your skepticism, Brandon. But trust me that if Sebastian dies, there is nobody here who could stop me."
I paused for a moment, considering this. "Does Sebastian have to be dead?"
Amerigo let out a heavy sigh. "Probably, yes. I despise admitting it, but the man is incredibly skilled with those shadows of his. They are what caught me off guard initially, and I have only grown weaker while he has grown stronger. Even at my best, I would be uncertain of my chances against him. He moves quickly, strikes hard, and his mana is immense. Trying to escape while he still breathes would almost certainly lead to our deaths."
I allowed silence to settle over us again as I considered what Amerigo had said. If his only confident path to escape depended on Sebastian dying, then we had a serious problem. We'd be reduced to simply waiting and passively enduring torture in hopes that Sebastian would eventually kill himself through excessive mana use. The thought of being completely at the mercy of Sebastian's actions filled me with unease. Yet, no matter how desperately I searched for an alternative, every idea ended with him discovering our attempt and killing us outright, or worse.
I didn't doubt that Sebastian was an extreme threat. He had already defeated me once and like Amerigo, I believed he would be able to do it again. So I determined to stay the course and weather Sebastian's machinations. Trusting in my own endurance to survive whatever he threw my way, as well as my ability to pounce on the opportunity that I knew would come. All in all I was hoping beyond hope that it would come before Sebastian finished having a use for me. Because it was clear we were on a timer. Sooner or later, Sebastian would decide to drain me dry.
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