Suka wakes up a few hours later, pulled from his sleep by the metallic sound of his cell hatch opening. A soldier, silent and impassive, hands him a tray containing the same meal as before: a half-filled bowl of rice, a dry biscuit, and a tiny sip of water.
Suka stares at the meal for a moment, his fatigue and despair weighing heavily on his shoulders. He slowly takes the tray, knowing that even this meager portion is what is keeping him alive.
Forced by the hunger that gnaws at his belly, Suka begins to eat slowly, almost mechanically. Each mouthful is bland, but he does not have the luxury of refusing this meager meal. His thoughts wander as he chews painfully, reliving the betrayals, the lost battles, and the fall of his companions. The weight of the silence of the cold cell seems to crush him further, making each movement more difficult.
He wonders how much longer he can endure this existence.
Suka reaches out in desperation, trying to awaken even a sliver of his ancient alchemical power. He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate, but before a flicker of energy can manifest, the bracelet on his wrist suddenly activates. A violent jolt of electricity courses through his body. He collapses to the ground, shaking in pain, his muscles contracting in shock. The pain is unbearable, and he can only lie there, paralyzed, gasping for breath, as the darkness of his cell seems to close in around him.
Despite the pain that radiates throughout his body, Suka refuses to give up. Trembling, he clenches his fists and struggles to his feet. Each attempt to gather his alchemical energy is immediately punished by a new electric shock, more intense than the last. His muscles tense with pain, his legs wobble, but he continues. The charges increase with each attempt, burning his skin, but his determination is unwavering. The bracelet seems to want to break his will, but Suka, in his fierce struggle, grits his teeth, refusing to bend under this silent torture. "I will not give up..." he whispers weakly, as his body threatens to collapse at any moment.
Suddenly, the cell door bursts open, and before Suka can even get up, several soldiers rush at him. They beat him mercilessly, pummeling him. Suka, already weakened, tries in vain to defend himself, but each blow he receives pushes him deeper into pain. The blows rain down on his face, his abdomen, his legs, relentlessly. He feels his ribs cracking under the repeated assaults, and his breath becomes shorter and shorter. Despite the intense pain, Suka does not scream, he endures in silence, gritting his teeth, but each impact brings him a little closer to the edge of unconsciousness.
Suka, kneeling, his face covered in blood, slowly looks up at Oswald. His breath is short, every movement is painful, but he holds on. The soldiers hold him firmly by the arms, preventing him from moving. Oswald, a cold smile on his lips, approaches slowly, his gaze fixing Suka's with a glint of contempt.
"Well," Oswald says in an almost amused voice, "you're pretty tough. Despite the fact that there's nothing left on your body but bones, you persist against those electric shocks." He pauses, looking Suka up and down. "Why so much effort to resist the inevitable? Your spirit of resistance is... fascinating, but futile."
Suka, his gaze burning with defiance despite his weakness, grits his teeth and remains silent, refusing to be broken by Oswald's words.
Oswald bursts out laughing, a cold, soulless laugh that echoes through the cell, amplifying the atmosphere of despair. "Ah, such pathetic loyalty... admirable, certainly, but utterly useless." He slowly crouches down, getting to Suka's level, his eyes blazing with measured cruelty. "You refuse to hand over your friends? Fine, I respect that... but how long do you think you can hold out before your body gives up on you?"
He gestures to one of the soldiers who pulls out a syringe filled with a dark green liquid. "These sedatives we're giving you are specially designed for you. They don't kill you, but they keep you weak enough so that you don't use your powers and it weakens your body considerably by absorbing your vitamins, your red blood cells."
Suka, exhausted, raises his head with determination. "No matter what you do, I won't tell you anything. My friends are worth more than my own life, and I will never betray that trust."
Oswald frowns slightly, his amusement turning to irritation. "Very well, Suka. Continue to believe that your resistance means something. But remember this: every day here is one step closer to your end. And when only fragments of your mind remain, I will be there to remind you that it was all in vain."
Under the pressure of several firm hands, Suka is dragged out of his cell, the black bag stifling his thoughts and cutting off his vision. Each step brings him closer to an unfamiliar place, and the hum of the security doors opening and closing behind him seems to announce his inevitable fate.
He feels the atmosphere suddenly change. The air becomes colder, almost metallic, and the place he is being taken to resonates in a different way. The footsteps echo louder on a smooth floor, a sign that they have entered a new area. Finally, the soldiers stop, and a heavy door closes with a dull rumble.
The bag is abruptly removed from his head. Suka blinks, dazzled by a cold and austere artificial light. Before him stands a vast laboratory, filled with imposing machines and flashing screens. The place is filled with advanced technology, several capsules containing humans and monstrosities are seen, and teams of researchers
Suka, his eyes wide with rage and incomprehension, retorted: "You turn human lives into tools for your own power? It's monstrous!"
Oswald, still calm, turned back to the glass capsule, observing with a certain phlegm the cables and devices that surrounded the complex. "Monstrous, perhaps. But necessary. Alchemy is a cosmic force and very rare to leave in the hands of nature is boring. It must be mastered, channeled, and harnessed for the greater good. That's what we do here."
He waved his hand towards the capsule where a human silhouette was barely visible through the layers of glass and wiring. The body, frozen in a state of stasis, seemed altered, fused with complex machinery, as if the soul itself had been torn away to be replaced by a cold mechanical logic.
"What you see here is the future. Those who resist are only raw materials for our experiments. Their minds, their abilities, everything is reused to perfect our control over alchemy."
Suka, still held back by the guards, gritted his teeth. "You're crazy... This is not the future. It's an abomination!"
Oswald smirked. "Say what you want. But soon, you won't have a choice. Either you cooperate, or you become part of this project, just like them." He made a final gesture towards the capsule, before turning on his heel.
Suka, staring at Griselda, Oswald, and Ha'arm with a mixture of anger and despair, replied weakly, but with determination, "You don't understand anything... Alchemy is not something that can be simply forced upon living beings. You are playing with forces you do not control. These people... these monsters you create... they are not under your control. You are hastening a catastrophe."
Griselda sneered, leaning slightly toward Suka. "Oh, but look at you, so helpless and yet so quick to lecture. We know what we are doing. We are creating a new era, an era where chaos will finally be under our thumb."
Ha'arm, watching Suka with his cold, calculating gaze, added, "These modifications are necessary. Sacrifices must be made to achieve perfection. What you call 'monsters' are merely prototypes. Refinement will come with time, and then we will have unstoppable soldiers, perfect beings, surpassing all human limitations."
Suka, shaking with rage, stood up weakly, despite the pain. "You are madmen, obsessed with power. You only sow destruction, and this quest for perfection will devour you from the inside. You do not understand what it means to be human."
Griselda, her eyes shining with malice, retorted, "Human? Humanity is weak, limited, and vulnerable. We are transcending all that. Whether you like it or not, this world will change, with or without you." She stood up, turning to Oswald. "Let's put him in the program. He's held up enough to prove he could be useful... once transformed."
Oswald nodded, a cruel smile on his lips. "Very well, prepare him for the injection."
Suka shouted, "You want to start a war, the other nations won't let you!"
Oswald sneered and said, "Your dear president gave us the green light, and the other nations are funding our research so that we can provide them with modified humans."
Griselda, with a smile on her lips, added, "You're missing a lot of things, I must say. This operation we're currently conducting is of international scope."
Suka, stunned by this revelation, widened his eyes. "Impossible... You have manipulated everyone... It is madness beyond what I could have imagined."
Oswald replied triumphantly: "Manipulated? No, let's say we have shown other nations the potential that this represents. They did not need much persuasion. Power begets power, and everyone wants their share."
Griselda, a sadistic smile on her lips, added: "And most governments prefer to turn a blind eye to atrocities, as long as they get what they want. We are simply pioneers of a new world order. The weak will be sacrificed for the greater good."
Suka, frustrated, retorted: "You do not understand what you are doing. You only create monsters, and soon, you will lose control. War can only lead to more suffering."
Oswald sneered, "Oh, but war is precisely what we want. It will highlight the true power of our project. We will have soldiers such as the world has never seen. Chaos is the cradle of change."
Suka shouted, "You won't get away with this, I tell you, you bums!"
Ha'arm, annoyed by Suka's insistence, raised an eyebrow and said in a cold, disdainful tone, "Fall."
Instantly, Suka felt his body grow heavy. His eyes snapped shut, and he fell into a deep sleep, oblivious to everything around him.
Oswald, amused, watched the scene. "A fitting way to put an end to his bravado. I'd rather see our little future victim rest than hear him scream endlessly."
Griselda, smiling, added, "He has potential, but his stubbornness is maddening. Once we've finished remodeling him, he'll be an invaluable asset."
Ha'arm crossed his arms, satisfied with his intervention. "We should prepare him for the next phase of our project. I hope he wakes up with a different perspective on his situation."
The three conspirators retreated, leaving Suka in the dark, his mind in a troubled sleep filled with visions of betrayal and chaos.
A few hours later, Suka woke up in his cell, the pale light of a pulsing neon light on the ceiling casting shadows on the cold, metal walls. His head ached, the hazy memories of recent events swirling through his mind like a chaotic storm. He thought back to everything he had heard from the three leaders of the extremist organization.
Their words still echoed in his head: manipulation, war, and their boundless ambition. The feeling of despair slowly settled over him as he realized the gravity of the situation. An inevitable war loomed on the horizon, threatening to ravage the world as he knew it. The nations, now complicit, would be nothing more than pawns in a power play whose ultimate goal escaped his comprehension.
Suka stood slowly, his limbs numb from immobility. He leaned against the wall of his cell to gather his thoughts. Every thought brought him closer to an alarming conclusion: the people he loved, his friends, his fellow fighters, all could become victims of this conflict. The images of their faces mixed with memories of laughter and shared struggles, strengthening his determination not to let that happen.
He took a deep breath, trying to chase away the anxiety that was suffocating him. The situation was hopeless, but he couldn't give up. He had to find a way to prevent this war, to save those he could still save. Maybe there was still a chance to thwart the organization's plans, to gather allies, to foment a rebellion.
He walked to the small window of his cell, looking out at the deserted corridor. He knew he had to act, but how? Every moment counted, and even in this prison, he had to keep hope.
Suddenly, Suka heard a voice coming from the door, a sarcastic and mocking tone that echoed in the darkness of his cell: "So, boss, you've lost all hope? Haha."
Another voice, deeper and more familiar, replied with a slight sneer: "He hasn't just lost hope, he's like the Slenderman!"
At the sound of these voices, Suka felt an immediate relief, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He instantly recognized the voices of Yamero and Daru, two of his most loyal companions. Their presence, even in the form of mockery, breathed a glimmer of hope into his weakened heart.
"Yamero! Daru!" he cried, his voice trembling with joy. "You're here! How could you...?"
Yamero, with a look of pride, explained, "Miya managed to infiltrate Daru and Maki with her power. She mimicked the same frequencies as UV on our bodies, allowing us to go unnoticed, since their system doesn't detect UV. As for me, I simply used my wild beast stealth to sneak in easily."
Suka, astonished, exclaimed, "Maki finally recovered?!"
Daru nodded with a smile. "Yes, she's in great shape. She recovered faster than expected. We've all worked hard to prepare for this moment."
Suka's joy was mixed with a feeling of gratitude towards her friends. Maki was a valuable fighter, and her return added additional strength to their team.
"You can't know how much of a relief it is to hear that," Suka said, his heart filled with hope.
Yamero smashed the metal door in one blow, sending shards of metal flying into the cell. The impact echoed through the hallway, and he was about to approach Suka when a cold chill ran through the air. Suddenly, Suka's bracelet began to vibrate, setting off a series of shrill alarm signals that echoed throughout the prison.
White lights flashed, and emergency systems activated in succession. Screaming sirens broke the silence, and red lights flashed, casting ominous shadows across the hallway.
"Hurry, we have to hurry!" Yamero shouted, his gaze hardening as he scanned the surroundings. The sound of hurried footsteps could be heard, and Suka felt his heart race.
Suddenly, several soldiers stood before them, armed to the teeth, their armor gleaming in the dim light of the twilight. Their faces, marked by rigor and determination, bore witness to their intention to let no one pass.
Yamero, observing the tense situation, quickly made a decision. In an authoritative tone, he said: "Daru, take Suka and go join Maki." At these words, a strange transformation took place in yamero. Dark hairs began to sprout around her face, while her eyes became an incandescent red, shining with a threatening glow. A palpable energy emanated from her, marking the rise of a wild force within her.
Daru, aware of the danger, wasted no time. He grabbed Suka by the arm, pulling her in a different direction, and together they began to flee, their hearts pounding, fear and excitement mixing into an explosive cocktail.
For his part, Yamero stood firm, cracking his hands with unwavering determination. A sneaky smile spread across his face. "Then, gentlemen, let's have some fun," he replied, ready to face the soldiers surrounding him. His posture was that of a seasoned warrior, ready to unleash all the power that lay dormant within him. The air was filled with palpable tension, as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for the oncoming surge of battle.
The soldiers began firing a barrage of gunfire, the blasts echoing menacingly through the air. The bullets, which had the devastating ability to disintegrate at the molecular level, flew at Yamero with deadly precision. Yet, against all odds, he stood there impassively, showing no sign of damage. His aura of calm and power radiated around him, defying the laws of physics and mortality.
With a simple wave of his hand, Yamero caused a cataclysmic reaction. Before him, several prominent soldiers saw their bodies explode in a detonating crash, sending pieces of flesh and armor flying in all directions. The air filled with a mixture of horrified screams and the stench of blood, as the scene turned a bloody red.
Yamero, with an almost scientific coldness, observed the carnage he had just caused. He slowly turned his gaze to the survivors, a quiet smile on his lips. "I manipulate density," he explained in a calm voice, almost amused by the situation. "And for your deceased friends, I simply irrationally increased the amount of red blood cells present in their bodies. This overload caused a violent explosion." His tone was detached, as if he were speaking of a simple physical phenomenon, but his words carried a terrible weight. The remaining soldiers, paralyzed by fear and confusion, realized that they were not only facing a fighter, but a force of nature, capable of playing with
Yamero stood amidst the chaos, his smile widening slightly as he stared at the remaining soldiers. "It's not that I don't want to have fun with you," he stated with deceptive lightness, "but I'm expected somewhere."
With that, he concentrated intensely, increasing the density of his fist to over 10 tons. The air around him began to vibrate under the pressure of his concentrated power. Then, with a brutal movement, he struck the ground with devastating force. The impact was cataclysmic: the ground cracked, shaking from his strike, and collapsed with a deafening roar, sending the soldiers into a desperate fall into the unknown. Their screams, a mixture of fear and horror, were lost as they disappeared into the darkness of the chasm created by the attack.
Not even turning around to contemplate the consequences of his act, Yamero continued his run towards Miya, his speed increasing dizzyingly. His movements were fluid and precise, as if he were cutting through the air with supernatural ease. The landscapes floated around him, blending into a mosaic of colors, as he resolutely headed towards his goal. Each step brought him closer to the encounter he was waiting for, the promise of a challenge that he knew would be worthy of his power.
The wind rushed into his face, bringing with it a feeling of freedom and excitement. Yamero was a storm in progress, and nothing and no one could stop him.
Miya, immersed in the search for crucial data on the extremists' project, was typing furiously on the keyboard of the prison's main server. Time was running out. But just as she was getting close to an important revelation, a familiar, sarcastic voice rang out behind her.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Oswald said, a mischievous smile on his lips. He stood at the entrance to the room, his expression casual, but his eyes flashed with a calculating coldness.
Surprised but quickly on guard, Miya stepped back slightly from the server, her eyes fixed on Oswald. "Sir Oswald," she asked firmly, "what are you doing in a highly secure prison?"
Oswald merely raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Are you asking me this to reinforce your doubt?"
Miya, without losing her determination, retorted: "Your project will have no future if I destroy you." Her voice vibrated with confidence, and her gaze betrayed her unwavering determination.
Oswald burst into a hearty, mocking laugh. "You? Destroy me? That's the biggest joke I've ever heard." His words dripped with arrogance.
Miya's face hardened as she remained calm. "They say you're a genius in the art of sword fighting. I'd like to check it out for myself."
Oswald, amused, slowly drew his sword, a shiny and elegant blade, while sketching a wry smile. "Very well, if you want to disappear, I can't refuse you that wish."
Instantly, a reddish aura enveloped Miya, a burning and imposing energy that seemed to transform the atmosphere of the room. "Let's see how you fare against the Red King," she said calmly, brandishing her sword confidently.
The two opponents now faced each other, their swords ready to clash, every muscle in their bodies tense in anticipation of the coming confrontation. The entire room seemed to vibrate with the tension building between them.
At the same time, Yamero reached the prison with lightning speed. He immediately sensed the coming confrontation, and headed towards Miya. But just as he was about to intervene, a towering figure stood before him, blocking his path. Ha'arm, gigantic and impassive, met Yamero's gaze.