Chapter 10: Echoes of the Past
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed in Ryo's mind, though the vast ocean was far from his reach now. The cell he sat in was cold, dim, the air stale with a bitter metallic scent that made his throat tighten. His body, battered from countless fights, trembled in the silence of the night.
But it was the memories that shook him the most.
He closed his eyes, and the world around him blurred. His breathing slowed as he let the images flood in—memories of a time when the world was not so cruel. When the name Ren was spoken with love, not fear.
Five years ago.
Ryo was younger then, less hardened, the weight of the world not yet resting on his shoulders. He and Ren had shared a simple life in a small, rundown neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. Their parents, long gone, had left them to fend for themselves, but the bond between the two brothers was enough to keep them afloat.
It was a time before the tournaments, before the serum, before the screams and bloodshed.
Ryo could still remember the way Ren's laughter had filled their small, dimly-lit apartment. It had been infectious, a sound that made everything feel a little lighter, even when their stomachs were empty, and their clothes threadbare.
"Ryo," Ren had said one evening as they sat on the cracked floor, playing a game of cards they'd made up themselves, "what's the one thing you'd wish for?"
Ryo had paused, his hand frozen mid-air as he thought. "I don't know. Maybe for us to be free. To get out of here. See the world beyond the walls."
Ren had smiled, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes. "I want to be strong. Strong enough to protect you. Strong enough to protect everyone."
Ryo had laughed, pushing his brother's shoulder playfully. "You already protect me. You've been doing it our whole lives."
But Ren had always been different, even back then. There was a darkness in him, a hunger for something more. It was a quiet kind of desire that Ryo never fully understood. He hadn't known that this small, shared dream of strength would become Ren's obsession. That it would lead him down the path that eventually tore them apart.
Ryo opened his eyes, and the harsh reality of his prison hit him once again. The silence, the pain, the constant weight on his chest. The world outside felt like it had moved on without him, without his brother. And yet, in his heart, Ren's voice still echoed, a reminder of the promise they'd once made to each other—to be strong, together.
To never give up.
But something had changed. Ren had changed.
Four years ago.
It was just before the tournament had started—before the serum, before Ren had disappeared into the shadows of the fighting world.
Ryo had been with Ren when they first encountered the men who would later become the architects of their fates. They had appeared out of nowhere, offering promises of strength, power, and wealth in exchange for their participation in something bigger. At first, Ryo had been skeptical. He had sensed the danger in their words, the sharp edges hidden beneath their smooth promises.
But Ren had been different.
"Think of it, Ryo," Ren had said, eyes bright with something Ryo hadn't recognized. "A chance to be more. To not just survive, but to thrive. To become untouchable."
Ryo had been hesitant. He knew their lives weren't easy, but they had each other. That bond was more precious to him than anything these men could offer.
But Ren had seen something in the opportunity that Ryo couldn't. And in that moment, Ryo had felt it—the shift. Ren's desire for power, his obsession with becoming stronger, had eclipsed everything else.
"Maybe," Ren had whispered, "this is the way out."
And Ryo, ever loyal to his brother, had followed.
They entered the tournament, both brothers unaware of the full extent of what they were getting into. Ryo, always the protector, had fought in the early rounds with nothing more than the determination to keep Ren safe. But Ren? Ren fought for something else.
Ryo had witnessed the transformation, the hunger growing in his brother's eyes with every victory. Ren had found a power, a fire within himself that Ryo couldn't understand. And then, one night, Ren had left—gone without a word, without a trace, swallowed by the dark underbelly of the tournament.
The Present.
Ryo's breath caught in his throat as he sat back in the dimly lit corner of his cell. His fist clenched around the shard of broken glass he'd been holding, the cold edges biting into his skin.
Where are you, Ren?
The question burned at the edges of his thoughts. He had been so certain that Ren was still somewhere inside the monster who had been molded by the serum, but now… now Ryo wasn't sure anymore.
What had happened to his brother?
The man who had wanted to protect him, who had promised they'd escape together—what had Ren become? Was he still alive? Was there any part of the boy Ryo once knew left?
The memory of Ren's final words before disappearing haunted Ryo: "I'll find you, Ryo. I swear."
Ryo closed his eyes once more, and this time, he could see Ren—his younger self, smiling, carefree.
He remembered the way Ren had always encouraged him, always lifted him up when Ryo had felt weak. There had been no doubts then, no insecurities. They were brothers—unbreakable.
But now?
Now there was only darkness.
Ryo stood up, his mind racing. His mission was clear, but so was the path ahead. There was no going back now.
"I promised you, Ren," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll drag you out of that darkness, no matter what it takes. I'll remind you who you were."
He felt the burning ache in his chest as the weight of his words settled on him. The vow was more than a promise. It was his soul, his very essence, wrapped up in the desperate hope that his brother could still be saved.
His grip on the shard of glass tightened, and the darkness around him seemed to press in closer, but Ryo didn't flinch.
He wouldn't.
The past had shaped him, had defined him, but it would not be the thing that held him back. The past had given him his reason, and now he would use it to tear down the very walls that had separated him from Ren.
For the first time since he entered the Maw, Ryo felt something he hadn't in a long time: hope.