Ajay stared down at Hadrian's severed head.
His mouth opened.
"What... why... wh—"
He never finished the question. His own head was ripped from his shoulders with a deafening—
~ SHRING !
Agony.
Darkness.
Then, a breath.
His head was back—he was whole—but it wasn't relief.
Not even a second later, it was sliced clean off again. This time he felt it.
The skin tear. The spine snap. A hot blade of pain through his soul.
Then back again.
His head flew, pain crackled, then regeneration restored him.
Over and over, the cycle repeated, each time more excruciating, the world flickering between dark and sight.
He scrambled, panic blooming. On the fourth brutal death, clarity crashed in—something was tormenting him on purpose.
Snap. Slash. Darkness. Light.
A 5th time.
A 6th.
It was endless.
~ SLASH !
His head was gone again.
Returned.
Then gone.
Again.
And again.
Each death more violent than the last.
He screamed, choked, begged—and each time, the world vanished in red before he could breathe in again.
Then it stopped.
Panting, trembling, Ajay managed to hold his head in place. It stayed. No slicing. No death. Not yet.
And then he saw him.
A figure standing above him like a god over worms. Tall, lean, built like a king. His skin pale but clean, his hair long, dark, flowing. Beautiful—almost divine—but unmistakably male. Sharp jawline. Eyes that glowed without light. A haunting smile etched across his face.
Ajay, overwhelmed by both fear and pain, knew this was no ordinary person. The man's eyes radiated authority.
Ajay blinked.
"Wh—"
Ajay tried to scramble back, but found his legs were gone.
Stumps spurting, they regenerated—only to be sliced off instantly again. Pain, then renewal, again and again.
Helpless, trapped in torment.
Screaming didn't help; he could barely breathe, let alone form words. Finally, between wracking sobs, he begged:
"Why...."
Then were cut again.
And again.
Pain beyond comprehension.
Like burning. Like acid.
Like being alive through the worst deaths imaginable.
Ajay sobbed,
"Why?! Why are you doing this? WHO ARE YOU?!"
The man stepped forward without a word.
Then, calmly, he answered.
"I am a god, mortal."
Ajay whimpered.
"Then... why torment us? Why do you even care?"
The man didn't respond. Instead, he flicked his hand lazily—and Ajay's arms were severed.
Over and over again.
Limbs torn and grown back like meat in a grinder. Over and over. Flesh becoming numb but never escaping the agony.
Ajay cried. He begged. But even his voice broke, cracked, crumbled into wheezes and sobs.
Then the man stopped.
Ajay's head hung low, pain dulling his thoughts—until he noticed.
The man's eyes weren't on him.
They were fixed just behind.
Ajay turned his gaze, blinking through the blood. Through the blur.
And he froze.
Ravina and Jennita.
Held down were being played around with, they were now sex dolls. Broken. Not moving.
Their bodies no longer theirs—reduced to hollow shells for someone else's amusement.
They weren't moving.
They weren't fighting anymore.
Their mouths hung open in silent screams. Their eyes glassy, staring through him. Not at him. Through.
Ajay tried to cry out—but nothing came. No scream. No roar. Just air. Just silence.
Just helplessness.
They were alive..
Until—
Two more heads flew.
Their bodies hit the ground like dolls. Heads rolled to his feet. Their eyes—still wide, still alive in his memory.
Less than five minutes ago, they were laughing.
Now—gone.
The god picked up ravina's severed head, licking her lips.
"Mmmmm, her blood is sweet."
Ajay stopped breathing.
No pain compared.
His limbs stopped being cut—but he didn't crawl. Couldn't. He just sat there, broken, shaking violently.
And cried.
No words. Just tears.
His voice came eventually, a shattered whisper:
"Why..."
He stared at the heads. The silence felt louder than any scream.
"WHY DID YOU DO THI—"
~ SHING !
His head was gone.
Darkness took him.
---
Later...
He awoke.
Same spot.
No heads. No bodies. Just the scent of iron in the dirt and—
A blood stained floor.
He touched his neck. Intact. But the memory hadn't vanished.
"So it was real..."
The breakdown was slow. But it came.
He laughed.
Then cried.
Then both at once.
He screamed into the dirt until his throat tore. He scratched his own skin until it bled. Flashbacks rushed in—Hadrian's eyes, Ravina's face, Jennita's trembling hands. The moment before. The second after.
He tried everything.
He bashed his head into stone, over and over, until his skull cracked. He threw himself onto jagged rock, tried drowning himself in a muddy stream—but his body healed.
He couldn't even die.
---
Minutes Later...
Ajay walked.
Numb.
A ghost.
His skin painted red in dried blood. His steps uneven, barefoot on sharp gravel.
He didn't know where he was going.
He just wanted it to end.
Starvation—that was his final hope. Maybe that would work.
Then—
A voice.
"Y-you good?"
A man—mid-30s, bearded, wide-eyed—stood near a forge. A blacksmith. He looked horrified.
Ajay didn't answer.
"Mhm,"
he murmured, barely audible.
The man jogged up beside him.
"You... you're hurt. Or—hell, what happened to you?"
Silence.
"I live nearby. Why don't you come by, eat something? You're scaring the hell out of me, kid."
Ajay paused.
Food.
His body moved before his mind could stop it. He followed.
They walked in silence.
The house was dim. Old. Smelled like coal and sweat.
Ajay stepped in.
Then—
~ CRACK !
A searing pain exploded in the back of his head.
Darkness swallowed him again.
---
Ajay woke in chains.
Naked. Suspended.
Limbs stretched outward, heavy iron holding him in place.
The blacksmith stood before him.
Also unclothed.
Smiling.
Ajay's heart sank.
He didn't know what fresh hell this was.
But the god's game wasn't over.
Not yet.