Flesh tore—violently, mercilessly—only for that same flesh to be reborn in agony.
Every fiber of his muscle twisted, writhed, and convulsed as if a raging inferno had ignited from within his very being.
The chaos inside Jinn did not merely stir—it erupted, blazing with unrelenting fury.
His heart pounded like a war drum, so violently that it felt as if it wanted to rip itself out of his chest.
Each deafening heartbeat pumped scorching, molten blood through his veins, every pulse lashing at his nerves, scraping away at the fragile edges of his consciousness, melting his sanity one throb at a time.
A storm—wild, crackling, and alive—was born within him.
It started as a faint spark, a trembling flicker of power, but then it grew.
Swelled.
Boomed.
Until it had become a full-blown tempest of lightning and thunder, coiling through his bloodstream like serpents made of energy.
Each surge that passed through his body did not just burn—it roared like a beast unleashed, crashing through his insides with the force of a thousand thunderclaps.
The power wasn't flowing with him—it was seizing him, like a hand clamping down on his soul and refusing to let go.
This wasn't merely lightning.
It wasn't simply energy.
It was something slithering within his very essence, as if it was there to begin with.
A serpent of raw, undiluted power—no form, no mercy.
It coiled tighter and tighter, wrapping around Jinn's very essence, squeezing with every thundering beat of his heart, testing his strength, judging his soul.
And then… it spoke.
Are you worthy to wield me?
The voice wasn't a whisper—it was a violent hiss, a pressure inside his skull that clawed at his mind and threatened to split it open.
The power didn't wait for permission.
It surged forward with a hunger, biting into Jinn's spirit like jagged fangs, tearing at his will, crashing like tidal waves into whatever resistance he had left.
TELL ME—ARE YOU WORTHY!?
It roared again, a scream made of storms and stars and fury, so loud it fractured the very notion of peace inside him.
It didn't want a partner—it wanted dominance.
It wanted to consume, devour, and erase him.
And yet, in that maelstrom, from the deepest pit of Jinn's soul—
something answered.
Not with a scream.
Not with defiance.
But with a warmth.
It began as something so small, so fragile, like the trembling light of a lone candle in the middle of a hurricane.
But it didn't flicker.
It didn't waver.
It stood there—still, stubborn, defiant.
It didn't burn to destroy.
It burned to remember.
To remember who he was.
To remember what he stood for.
To remember what he refused to lose—
his friends,
his memories,
his life,
his dream of freedom,
his truth,
his fight.
That warmth didn't challenge the storm.
It welcomed it.
It did not silence the lightning—
it calmed it.
It did not erase the rage—
it embraced it.
And slowly… the storm kneeled.
It did not vanish.
It did not die.
But it bent.
It bowed.
It became something else—
tamed.
The warmth wrapped around Jinn's entire being, gently, like a mother's embrace, soothing the wounds the storm had torn through his soul.
It didn't just heal—it rekindled.
It poured into his veins not to make him powerful, but to remind him why he must be strong.
Rise now, child... destiny awaits.
His eyes opened slowly, blinking through the blur, the pain, the blood.
The familiar scent of sweat, iron, and dust greeted him like an old companion.
*rustle!
"O-Ophelia!" Jinn's voice cracked as he bolted upright, only for the pain to crash into him like a wall, his breath ragged, chest rising and falling as if the air itself was too heavy.
"G-Guys, Jinn's awake!" Kain's voice rang out, filled with disbelief and overwhelming emotion, pointing with shaking fingers toward Jinn as he stumbled toward him, nudging the others.
Hector wasted no time, rushing to Jinn's side, eyes wide and breath tight.
"Easy now, Jinn—don't push yourself, your wounds still look like they're fresh."
"Urgh…" Jinn groaned, his hand rising slowly to clutch the side of his head, where a throbbing ache pulsed behind his eyes.
"Where… where are we?" he asked weakly, squinting as the pain blurred his vision.
Leaning with his arms crossed, Verhedyn spoke from near the back wall, his voice low and dry.
"Well—we're back in the cells."
"Yours and Kain's to be exact," Ophelia added gently, sitting right beside him, her arm already supporting his back.
Pain surged again as Jinn forced himself upright, each movement like dragging broken bones across glass.
Ophelia's hand braced him firmly, gently, refusing to let him fall.
"Do you even remember what you did back there?" Orin asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to hide the awe in her voice.
Jinn winced, placing a palm to his forehead as another wave of memory-laced pain hit him.
"I remember seeing Ophelia… she was in danger. Everything after that is just… black."
Ophelia smiled faintly, placing her hand over Jinn's forehead.
Her touch wasn't just warm—it pulsed softly, releasing a calming sensation that immediately began to dull the pain.
"Don't force yourself," she whispered.
"Rest. We'll talk later."
Jinn nodded softly and slowly turned his gaze, observing the room.
The hopelessness was still thick in the air.
Faces stained with dirt and dried blood.
The wounded tending to the barely living.
Some curled into corners.
Some simply sat, eyes wide and distant, staring at nothing.
Not even blinking.
A woman's voice cracked the air.
"W-Where's my Sasha!?" she shrieked, spinning around in a daze, eyes wild with panic.
Her voice fractured into a sob.
Her child, it seemed, had not made it.
Jinn's throat clenched.
"It's a cruel world we're trapped in," he muttered under his breath—before his gaze snapped toward the sound of heavy footsteps.
Biyo.
The towering warrior from Skjöldheim lumbered forward, each step dripping blood.
Cuts riddled his muscular frame, gashes deep enough to kill most men, but his posture never slouched.
His eyes burned with fire, and his grin?
It stretched from ear to ear.
"That move of yours back there, Jinn boy!" Biyo's voice thundered.
"Spectacular! By the gods, even from where I stood, I saw that flash. That… was glory!"
Orin squinted at him, unimpressed.
"Who the hell's this walking meat tower?"
Before Biyo could answer, Kain jumped in.
"T-That's Biyo! He's, uh, he's friendly! Really! You can trust him, I promise!"
Jinn allowed himself a slight smile as he looked around again, seeing all his friends—alive, together.
"Good… we're all still here." His smile faded into a frown.
"But... is it over? The rituals?"
Everyone's eyes instinctively turned toward Vox, who was quietly sitting in the corner.
He flinched under their collective gaze.
"Actually…" Vox began, rubbing the back of his head.
"No. That was just the beginning. Only the first part."
Biyo crossed his arms, humming thoughtfully.
"Aye. If my elders taught me right, there's still three more parts to this madness."
"Shit…" Verhedyn cursed beneath his breath.
"When's the next one?" Hector asked, eyes fixed on Biyo.
Vox beat him to it, raising one finger.
"In five days. That's when they'll come for us again."
But before another word could be said, a thunderous
*bang!
rattled the walls.
"ALL SLAVES—LINE UP!" a soldier barked from the cell door.
"There will be a public viewing today!"
Vox rolled his eyes.
"Speak of the devil."
"Tch…" Jinn clicked his tongue and forced himself to stand. "No rest for the damned."
Ophelia and Hector moved immediately, helping Jinn to his feet, draping his arms over their shoulders.
"Let's find out what kind of show they've prepared for us now," Jinn said grimly as they moved to line up with the others.
But as he limped forward, something flickered in the corner of his eye.
A necklace.
Nevi's necklace.
Still clutched by the adult man who had taken it.
"He's still alive…" Jinn muttered.
But he wasn't the only one who saw it.
"HEY!!" Orin's voice cut like a blade through the air.
Her eyes locked onto the necklace—her sister's necklace—dangling from the man's filthy hand.
"That's mine, you thieving bastard!"
She stomped forward with fury and lunged, trying to snatch the necklace away.
But the man shoved her back and bolted.
"Urgh!" Orin grunted, hitting the stone floor hard.
*Crack!
"HEY! WHAT'S GOING ON BACK THERE!?" the soldier shouted, the crack of his whip slicing through the air.
"Shit!" Jinn hissed, eyes snapping to Verhedyn.
"Go get her! Now!"