A biting cold reigned in the room. Not a natural cold, but an oppressive presence that infiltrated deep into the bones, slowly consuming the warmth of life.
Arashi was suspended at the center of the room, his wrists shackled to a black metal cross, the blood-soaked runes deeply carved into his skin, a constant pain that never ceased to intensify. His feet didn't touch the floor, floating slightly above the cursed circle engraved in the stone. Every movement made the chains shiver, like living creatures, feeding off his suffering.
This prison wasn't just a place of torture. It was alive, a monster, a trap devouring the soul.
The walls, pitch-black, pulsed slowly as if they were breathing, opening and closing with a heavy, sickly breath. Filaments of crawling shadows coiled around him, creeping through his veins, slowly draining his energy. He felt his life slipping away with every breath, every heartbeat. The floor was a dark mirror that didn't reflect Arashi, but countless distorted silhouettes, trapped in eternal suffering. These lost souls were nothing but echoes of what he had become: a captive of time, a victim of the infinite.
Then, there was time.
The very concept of time was broken here. An hour equaled two thousand years of suffering. The same instant repeated itself endlessly, dragging him into a cycle where pain was infinite and relentless. His wounds never healed completely; they healed just enough to give him temporary relief before being reopened under the force of new tortures. Time was nothing but an illusion, a devouring spiral. Each moment dragged him back to the beginning, weaker, more broken.
A metallic sound echoed in the darkness.
The clinking of footsteps resonated slowly, but intensely, in the closed space. Arashi lifted his head, his golden eyes now clouded by exhaustion, despair, and disbelief. His pupils dilated, desperately trying to perceive the shadow approaching.
The figure of his tormentor appeared slowly, walking without a sound. A woman with white hair, wearing a black kimono adorned with shimmering red threads. Her crimson eyes glowed with a cruel, cold light, and an unsettling aura emanated from her presence. She dragged a blade engraved with cursed symbols, her agile hands holding the weapon that seemed to enslave the world around her.
— "Still alive, little monster?" she murmured in a voice that was almost affectionate, but twisted, laced with mockery and malice.
She slowly slid the blade along Arashi's chest, carving a bloody path effortlessly, like a cold caress. The pain exploded through his body, as if his blood turned into molten metal. But he didn't scream. He hadn't screamed in a long time. It had been too long since the pain had become a silent companion. He had stopped resisting. He no longer had hope.
— "You think you can defy me with this silence?"
The woman pressed the blade harder against his skin, and suddenly, a wave of excruciating sensation spread through him. His flesh burned, but without fire. A searing heat infiltrated his veins, creeping up to his brain, as curses spread through his body, destroying his thoughts.
Visions surged.
He saw his parents… but their faces were blurry, distorted, like specters caught in agony. They screamed without sound, their lips forming inaudible words, their hands reaching for him with an expression… accusatory. Then, he saw a bloodied hand… his own. He watched it, but it no longer belonged to him. He saw it grasp the blade, stabbing into his father's throat, into his mother's heart, unable to stop. Guilt choked him. Every fragment of memory broke him even more.
A paper crane… a paper crane shaped like a crane. It floated in the air, soft, light. Then the woman's blade tore it apart, destroying all hope. The crane was shredded into pieces, his body shattered under the pain, and everything vanished into a sea of blood.
His mind wavered under the violence of this reality. The horror poured over him, consuming him entirely.
The woman smiled slowly.
— "You're already broken, Arashi. One more blow, and you'll fall."
She slowly drove the blade into his abdomen, the cold steel sinking into his flesh like a biting chill. Each millimeter of the blade felt like a season of pain, an eternity twisting within him.
And in that instant of absolute agony… something within him woke up. A golden glow briefly shone in his eyes. Then, suddenly, darkness took over. He lost all sense of time. The runes carved into the floor trembled beneath him, shards of black and golden light dancing around his chains. His wrists vibrated. A strange sensation, almost… alive.
His chains reacted. They twisted, tightened… but they trembled, as if they feared him.
A soft voice resonated in his mind, a familiar voice, emotional, almost comforting.
— "Wake up."
The whispers turned into an inner roar. His pupils expanded and took on a golden glow before drowning into an abyssal blackness.
For the first time, the woman stepped back. Her eyes widened in surprise.
Arashi was no longer what he had been.