The endless wasteland stretched before Akuma and his companion, the Bone Fiend Kuro, like a nightmare with no escape. The dried meat Akuma had looted from the grotesque creature earlier had long since been consumed, leaving him with an emptiness that gnawed at his insides. Worse still, he had yet to find a single drop of water. His throat felt like sandpaper, dry and cracked, each breath bringing with it a wave of pain that he forced himself to ignore.
Akuma's thoughts had begun to slip into madness, a dangerous side effect of the dehydration and hunger that consumed his small body. He was only nine years old, and though he had always been more resilient than other children, this level of suffering was beyond anything he had ever endured. His head pounded with feverish thoughts, wild ideas bubbling to the surface, pushing him to consider things he had never thought possible.
_"I'll eat anything… anything that comes near me…"_ he thought, his stomach growling, the sound painful and hollow. His eyes flickered toward the wasteland around him, searching for anything—anything at all—that could stave off the hunger that was slowly killing him.
But there was nothing. Only cracked, barren ground, stretching out for miles under the scorching red sun. The air was thick and humid, clinging to his skin like a suffocating blanket. His lips had dried to the point of splitting, bleeding with every word he tried to speak, every thought he tried to voice. His skin, already pale, was blistering under the relentless sun, each step he took filling his body with pain.
Still, he walked. He had no choice.
Kuro, the Bone Fiend, followed silently beside him, its bony frame creaking with every movement. Akuma had become accustomed to the sound, though it did little to comfort him. Despite being his companion, Kuro offered no relief from the loneliness and despair that gripped his heart. The undead servant never spoke, never showed emotion. It was just there, a tool to protect him.
And Akuma needed that protection now more than ever.
His body was nearing its limit. Every step was agony, his muscles screaming in protest. The wound on his chest, from where the first creature had slashed him, still ached, and the pain was growing worse by the hour. He was starting to feel lightheaded, his vision blurring around the edges as he struggled to keep his focus.
_"I can't… let my guard down… not again."_
Akuma's breath came in shallow gasps, his heart hammering in his chest. His mind was slipping further into delirium, but he fought to stay present, to stay sharp. He couldn't afford another surprise attack. The last time had nearly killed him, and he wasn't sure he would survive another.
As he trudged forward, something caught his eye—a flicker of movement just beyond the horizon. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he wondered if he was imagining it. But no, it was real. Something was moving, slinking through the shadows of the wasteland.
A cold sweat broke out across Akuma's brow as he squinted into the distance, trying to make out what it was. His breath hitched in his throat as recognition dawned on him. It was another one of those creatures—the same kind that had attacked him before.
_"Not again,"_ he thought, panic rising in his chest. His hand instinctively reached for the wound on his chest, the memory of the creature's claws still fresh in his mind.
This time, though, he wasn't going to be caught off guard. He had Kuro with him, and he wasn't going to let himself be a victim again.
"Kuro…" Akuma whispered, his voice hoarse. "We're going to ambush it this time. I don't care how fast it is. We have the element of surprise."
Kuro's hollow eyes flickered with a dim light as it acknowledged the command, stepping forward in silent obedience. Together, they crept toward the creature, Akuma's heart pounding in his ears as they closed the distance.
As they neared, Akuma got a better look at the thing. It was small, hunched over, with the same grotesque features as the last one. Pointy ears, sharp teeth, and an ugly, misshapen face. This one had a crude, makeshift knife in its hand—a jagged piece of metal tied to a stick.
Akuma's lips curled in disgust as he studied the creature. It reminded him of something… something he had read about once, back when he was still in the kingdom.
_"Goblin."_
That was the word that came to mind. A fitting name for such an ugly, deformed creature. Ugly face, ugly name. Goblin.
The goblin was quick, darting between the rocks as it scavenged for food or something else, unaware that it was being watched. Akuma and Kuro waited in the shadows, biding their time. The plan was simple: strike first, strike hard. Don't give it a chance to retaliate.
"Now," Akuma whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Kuro moved first, launching itself at the goblin with terrifying speed for something that looked so fragile. The goblin barely had time to react as Kuro's bony hands slammed down, narrowly missing its head as the creature dodged at the last second.
The element of surprise was gone, and the goblin hissed in fury, baring its sharp, yellow teeth as it turned to face its attackers.
Akuma rushed forward, throwing a punch at the creature with all the strength his small body could muster. But the goblin was too fast—it ducked under his fist, moving with unnatural agility. Akuma stumbled, his balance faltering as the goblin slashed at him with its crude knife.
Pain exploded across Akuma's side as the blade found its mark, slicing through his shirt and into his skin. He cried out, more in shock than in pain, as the goblin pressed its advantage, slashing at him again and again. Akuma barely managed to block the blows with his arms, the makeshift knife cutting deep into his flesh.
"Kuro!" Akuma screamed, his voice filled with desperation. "Help me!"
Kuro moved to intercept, swinging its bony arms at the goblin in an attempt to crush it. But the goblin was fast—too fast. It darted out of the way, moving in a blur of motion as it slashed at Kuro's bones with its knife.
The battle raged on, brutal and chaotic. Akuma, too weak and slow to land any meaningful hits, was forced to rely on Kuro to do most of the fighting. But even Kuro was struggling. The goblin's speed and agility made it a difficult opponent, and it was clear that the creature had some level of intelligence.
When the goblin realized it was losing the fight, it did the unthinkable—it turned and ran.
Akuma's heart raced as he saw the creature dart away, its small body disappearing into the distance.
"No… you're not getting away!" Akuma growled, pushing through the pain as he ran after the goblin. His body screamed in protest, his muscles aching, his wounds bleeding. But he didn't care. He couldn't let it escape. Not after everything he had been through.
With a final burst of energy, Akuma lunged at the goblin, tackling it to the ground. The two of them rolled through the dirt, the goblin hissing and snarling as it tried to free itself from Akuma's grip. Its knife slashed at him wildly, cutting deep into his skin.
Akuma screamed in pain as the blade pierced his side, but he didn't let go. He couldn't. His hands were locked around the goblin's throat, squeezing with every ounce of strength he had left.
"Kuro!" Akuma shouted, his voice ragged. "Finish it!"
Kuro moved swiftly, grabbing the goblin by its head and slamming it into the ground with bone-shattering force. The creature let out a sickening gurgle as its skull cracked, blood and brain matter splattering across the dirt.
It was over.
Akuma collapsed beside the goblin's lifeless body, his chest heaving with exhaustion. His wounds were bleeding heavily, and he was dangerously close to passing out. But he couldn't stop now. He was starving—beyond starving. He needed food. He needed water. He needed anything to keep him from dying out here in this godforsaken wasteland.
His eyes flickered to the goblin's corpse, bile rising in his throat at the thought of what he was about to do. But he had no choice. He had to survive.
Summoning the last of his strength, Akuma conjured a small flame in his hand—a flicker of the [Dark Flame] magic he had learned. It wasn't enough to cook the goblin fully, but it was something. He set the creature's flesh alight, the sickening smell of burning meat filling the air.
Tears streamed down Akuma's face as he tore into the half-cooked flesh, the taste making him gag with every bite. The blood was green, foul-tasting and slimy, but he drank it anyway, desperate to quench his thirst.
Each bite was agony. Each swallow was torment. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.
He cried as he ate, his body trembling with disgust and despair. He wanted to die—he wanted this to end. But he couldn't. Not yet.
_"I have to survive… for my revenge… for my people…"_
And so, he endured.