Nina's voice cracked as she lay pinned beneath Lacey's spear, oil still dripping off her body.
"You don't understand," she whispered. "Ryan… he was mine before any of this. Before Villian Ville, before Nomerci."
Her eyes blurred, and the memory dragged her away.
—
Back then, there was no blood in the air, no chains on the walls. Just steam. Just love.
She and Ryan had run the little spa together, tucked away at the edge of the Ville. The baths were clean, the oils warm, their nights long. They'd fight like any couple — over who forgot to restock the towels, who burned the lanterns too late. But always, they made up between the sheets.
The kind of love that clung to skin like sweat after sauna.
Ryan would pull her close in the hot water, her body glistening, towel slipping low, and kiss her until she forgot her own name. They'd make love right there, steam fogging the glass, her moans swallowed by the hiss of water. Nights blurred into mornings, laughter tangled with lust.
It wasn't survival. It was living.
Until Nomerci came.
They stormed the spa, banners black, torches hot. Nina remembered the moment clearly: Genny walking in like a catwalk queen, corset gleaming, smile cruel. Behind her, Hussain dragging Ryan in chains.
Ryan had fought. He'd resisted. But Nomerci broke him.
They made him fight for their amusement, bleed for their games. And when his body was too weak, Genny used him in other ways — touching him, twisting him, parading him in front of Nina like a stolen prize.
"I saw it," Nina whispered now, voice breaking. "I saw the woman use him — bend him, ride him, laugh at him — and I couldn't stop it. My Ryan. My love. They turned him into their toy."
Her tears smeared with oil on her cheeks.
"Then they made me a deal," she choked. "Take Tidam down. Deliver Tim, Jenny, all of you. And they would give Ryan back to me."
Her voice broke on the last word.
—
Back in the present, the room was silent.
Amy's wide eyes shimmered. Yuko's smirk was gone. Lacey's spear trembled against Nina's chest, oil dripping off her palm.
Tim stood frozen. The lust still buzzed in his blood from the slippery fight, but now it twisted with pity. A man chained, a woman broken, their love corrupted by Genny's claws.
Jenny's voice was soft but sharp. "And you believed her?"
Nina flinched. "When you've seen the man you love fucked and humiliated in front of you… you'll believe anything."
The steam thickened between them.
For the first time, Tidam saw Nina not as an enemy, not as a seductress. But as a lover shackled by tragedy.
And Tim knew: this wasn't just her story. This was Genny's weapon.