[Flashback: The Bleeding Grounds | Age 8 | Madala Sujay]
The skies of the Bleeding Grounds were always crimson, not because the sun bled into the clouds—but because the ground remembered. The earth here had drunk too much of what should never have been spilled. But Sujay… Sujay loved it.
At just eight years old, he was a quiet soul. A watcher. An empath.He would sit for hours watching insects rebuild their nests after storms, or listen to the wind whisper through the hollow bones buried beneath the old trees. He wasn't afraid of blood, of pain, or even death. Not because he was brave—but because he understood too early that life would never be kind.
Unlike most children in the Madala clan, Sujay had kindness—true kindness, not just polite obedience. He helped strangers. He smiled at the tired. He even treated vampires who wandered too close with cautious empathy.
He had hope.
But then came Pranav.
His younger brother.
Louder. Wilder. Unaware of how much space he took up.Pranav didn't mean harm. He thought he was helping. But every word from his mouth chipped away at Sujay's resolve.
"Why are you always so quiet?"
"You never fight back—do you even care?"
"Bhaiya, if you just tried harder, maybe they'd stop hurting us."
Sujay wanted to explain: I do care. I'm trying every second. I'm trying not to break.But how do you explain weight to someone who has never felt heavy?
Pranav didn't know what he was doing. That's what made it worse.He wasn't cruel—he was ignorant. The kind of ignorance that wounds slowly, under the pretense of love.
So Sujay stayed silent.
Until the vampires came.
They wanted children. Experiments. Sujay offered himself.They chose Pranav.
He watched his brother scream as they took him. And Sujay didn't scream—because something in him broke instead.
"Why him? Why not me?"
He spent months becoming what the vampires feared just to find a way to bring Pranav back.He fought. He fed. He lost parts of himself in every blood-soaked deal he made with monsters to rescue his brother.
And when Pranav finally returned, dirty, angry, alive…
"Why did they let them do this to me?! Our parents are cowards!"
Sujay just stared.
No "thank you."No recognition.Not even the faintest glimpse of understanding.
It was then Sujay realized: some people are so lost in their own pain, they never see the ones who carried it for them.
And for the first time, the bloodlust inside Sujay whispered something that didn't sound monstrous.
"He's free because I broke myself for him."
"He thinks his pain makes him special—but he never bled for others."
"Why do people like him survive and get rewarded for anger, while people like me rot in silence?"
Sujay didn't stop being kind. He didn't become cruel.He became aware—of the futility of doing the right thing in a world that doesn't care for sacrifice.
He began to enjoy pain—not as vengeance, but as a way to feel something consistent. Something true.
He began to smile while burning.
His emotions didn't disappear… they evolved into something darker.
He still knew right from wrong.
He just stopped believing the world deserved the right choice.
That's when he gave himself a name:
"Shūnya."Emptiness.
Not because he had nothing left.But because he had too much, and nowhere to place it.
The training room fell still as Atama stepped forward, his normally indifferent expression flickering with something unreadable. He closed his eyes, raising two fingers to his temple.
"Feel it," he said softly.
And the moment those words left his mouth, their world changed.
Within the Consciousness Realm
Suddenly, everyone was submerged in a storm of emotion — not memories in images, but emotions rendered real.
They felt Sujay's silence first. Not just quiet — the pressure of someone holding in screams for years. Like standing in a cave where sound could never escape, no matter how much you yelled.
Then came Pranav's voice—not cruel, but ignorant and loud, echoing endlessly like a hammer hitting glass again and again. It didn't mean to break, but it did.
Kiyomi gasped, holding her chest. "It's so… suffocating."
Violet, eyes wide, was pale for once. "This isn't just pain… this is repetition. Endlessly, daily, like his soul was being rubbed raw."
They felt the moment Pranav was taken — Sujay's instant guilt, the unbearable weight of relief and shame at the same time.
Akemi muttered under her breath, her tone shaken: "That's why he didn't scream… He thought he deserved to stay…"
They felt the transformation.The hunger.The exhaustion.The endless cycle of doing the right thing and getting nothing in return.
And then the part that broke them—
Sujay's genuine fear of himself.
Of what he was becoming.Of the fact that he liked it.That pain made sense now.
"He was never evil," Izanami whispered. Her voice trembled. "He was cornered into a mirror—and the only reflection was blood."
Seko, shaking, clenched his fists. "This is what I was afraid to face… This is what I tried to ignore…"
In the center of the storm, they all felt the name:
"Shūnya."
Emptiness. A scream without sound. A rage without direction. A kindness that bled dry in silence.
Returning to Reality
The vision shattered.
They stood in silence in the training room. None of them spoke for several long seconds. Even the air felt heavier, like it had learned grief.
Atama finally opened his eyes. "That's what I felt… back then. When I looked at him. When I look at you, Seko. You feared him not because he was evil… but because he could have been you."
Seko didn't deny it.
"He was kind. Genuinely. But this universe... it eats people like that."
Violet, uncharacteristically somber, wiped his eyes. "He didn't fall… He was dropped."
Kiyomi stepped forward, putting a hand on Seko's shoulder.
"We'll stop him. Not because he's evil… but because no one else ever did."
The days after the consciousness projection were heavy.
Though shaken, the team had little time to grieve. The Tournament of Selection was just four months away — and eight members were needed. Now with Atama stepping back due to his M-Class restriction, the newest recruit stepped in.
Akemi Takahashi — B Class, Rank 1
She stood confidently in front of the team, her lab coat swaying slightly as electrical static crackled across her fingertips. Despite her flirty charm and light teasing nature, her eyes burned with curiosity.
"The Madala Clan… What a rare anomaly," Akemi said, pushing her glasses up with a grin. "I can't say no to something this psychologically layered. Sujay isn't just an enemy—he's an enigma."
Izanami, arms crossed, nodded in reluctant approval.Kiyomi was skeptical at first, but seeing Akemi go blow-for-blow with a high-end training bot in just her warm-up gear had quickly changed her mind.
Even Violet—after trying and failing to flirt with her—accepted her with a reluctant, "Fine, you're terrifying."
Seko simply said:
"Welcome to hell."
Countdown: 4 Months Remaining
Training began.
• Kiyomi honed her reflexes under increasing gravitational pressure.• Izanami practiced advanced flame-forging combat styles with Seko.• Violet alternated between combat drills and quietly guarding the eastern corridor — always watchful for threats and... Ella.
And Seko... trained with a sword that resisted his very soul.
The Last Second: A Glimpse of Him
Just as the team wrapped up their third week of intense training, the lights flickered.
Akemi's console sparked. "Wait… something's tapping into our satellite—this frequency is forbidden."
On the giant monitor, static twisted into clarity.
And then there he was.
Madala Sujay.
Sitting in choza pose again — elbows resting on his knees, head slightly tilted, those haunting eyes glowing with unsettling calm.
Behind him, everything was misty — bone trees, melting candles dripping blood instead of wax. A realm that looked neither alive nor dead.
He smiled faintly.
"I see you."
His voice was calm. Almost warm.
"Four months. I will enjoy whichever of us cries, Seko Ikara. Whether it's you… or me."
A long pause. His next words were almost whispered.
"Get stronger."