Lord Of Beasts

”Just one more day.”

Ethan rubbed at his aching ribs as he slowly sat upright on the thin prison mattress. Every breath hurt, and every ounce of pain reminded him of the suffering he had endured the day prior.

He had stopped counting how many times he had nearly died.

Monster Manor did that to people, and every morning was simply another chance to survive until tomorrow. He stood before the dull, reinforced mirror bolted onto his wall.

His reflection looked back at him.

Dark rings beneath bloodshot blue eyes.

He had fresh cuts, split lips, and was riddled with bruises, not to mention his scarred knuckles that looked like he had put his hands inside a grinder.

Ethan barely recognised himself anymore.

”Looking rough,” he muttered.

He splashed cold water on his face while waiting for the familiar announcement.

”Beep! Cell doors opening!”

The routine and voice never changed.

He hesitated before stepping out of his cell, his eyes immediately flicking left and right, clearly on edge.

’Those racist fucks are the least of my worries now.’

He had conflicts with most factions here, and they all wanted him dead. The guards also seemed happy to let it happen. Every inmate viewed him as a threat and the officers as a nuisance, essentially making everyone his enemy.

’But I still won’t join any of these assholes.’

Not that they’d accept him now after all the damage he had caused to both their reputation and members.

His ribs protested with every step, and his cracked knuckles throbbed, as if preparing to smash someone’s face. He had multiple stab wounds that were loosely held together by stitches.

The one on his shoulder was the deepest and hurt the most.

’That was from a couple of days ago... Or was it weeks? Fuck knows anymore.’

Time blurred together here.

’It’s like this place is trying to kill me.’

He almost laughed.

It wasn’t paranoia, but the simple reality of things.

That’s when a guard approached his cell with a cruel grin. It was one of the officers who seemed to have it out for him and had stood there and watched as he was beaten inches away from life more times than he could count.

”You gonna come out?”

The guard lazily twirled his baton.

”Or you planning to hide in that cell forever?”

Ethan stared back without emotion.

The man leaned closer.

”If I were you...”

His grin widened.

”...I’d hide in there until the day I died.”

Ethan felt like swinging at him straight away, but after being tased and beaten, then experiencing solitary confinement without food, he just ignored him.

The pain, hunger, and mental torture weren’t worth it.

But he definitely didn’t forget him either; the faces of all those who crossed him were etched in his mind.

’One day, I’ll...’

He sighed and headed to breakfast.

The same stale grey slop, the same cracked plastic tray, and the same flickering lights overhead. Every prisoner looked exhausted, every conversation sounded identical, and every face blurred together.

It all felt wrong.

He couldn’t quite put into words what he was feeling, and the closest thing he could think of was deja vu, which was to be expected in prison.

But this wasn’t just about things being repetitive.

He hadn’t been able to shake this feeling for a while, but he couldn’t dwell on it either. Instead, he headed out to the yard while trying his best not to limp or appear weak.

Push-ups, pull-ups, and some squats kept his muscles toned and explosive.

And once again, starting with glares, threats, and insults, he ended up in another scuffle, as if he were a magnet for trouble.

Riots, fights, lockdowns, basic treatment, gruel, and no sleep.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Even more time passed, and that feeling in his chest refused to settle.

He leaned against the cold wall of his cell.

His brow furrowed.

’Something’s missing.’

The feeling wouldn’t leave, no matter how many fights he survived, no matter how many people he beat, no matter how much blood stained his hands.

It was something important, but he just couldn’t remember what.

His hand reached toward his chest, then his forearms, as though something should have been there. The feeling had only grown stronger, as if something deep inside him was calling out to him.

But it was just out of reach.

That’s when something finally managed to break through, after months of constant torment. It was a voice, one that was soft, vaguely familiar, and made his heart skip a beat.

”Ethan.”

His body froze.

It was barely above a whisper, but it was unmistakable.

’Who is that?’

His heart pounded so violently that it almost hurt.

”Ethan.”

It came again, gentle and almost pleading.

His breathing became uneven, and the prison around him seemed...

Different.

For the briefest moment, the concrete walls flickered, like a faulty television. It was as though the world around him was falling apart as his mind strained against the invisible chains that shackled it.

”Who...”

His voice came out carefully.

”Who’s there?”

There was no response, and the world around him stabilised again.

’I must really be losing it.’

It left Ethan feeling defeated and losing hope of ever leaving this place, with each day slowly eating away at his soul and mind. But the cracks the voice had formed in the mental prison remained, and might just be what he needed to break out...

-

Moments prior, Elara’s crimson eyes snapped open.

The endless dark arena where she had fought the Blood Demon was gone, replaced by the floating islands of the Gate that spanned endlessly.

For a brief moment, she simply stood there, breathing heavily.

Her entire body ached, as if feeling the mental aftereffects of the brutality she had just endured.

Although everything inside the Blood Demon’s domain had been an illusion, every punch, kick, and slash had felt real. She still remembered being broken apart over and over again before reforming, only to be thrown back into another lesson disguised as a beating.

Yet, she had won and gained more than she realised.

Her crimson energy flowed differently now. It no longer felt like an uncontrollable flood bursting from a broken dam, now smoother and more receptive, as if starting to accept her.

She looked around.

”...”

Her expression immediately changed.

Everyone was frozen in place; the only thing moving was their expressions as they grimaced as if in extreme agony. Worst of all was Ethan, whose eyes were open and dull, unlike their usual piercing blue.

Around them, enormous caterpillars continued crawling from the gigantic cocoon, with dozens of them slowly surrounding the helpless Titled.

They weren’t in any rush and had no reason to be.

Their prey couldn’t fight back after all.

The butterflies hovering above continued pouring impossible amounts of mana into the Golden Flutterer, maintaining the soul prison that trapped everyone inside their own minds.

And hesitant to act, Elara rushed over to the man she trusted would know what to do...