Inside the Cell
Albert sat down after returning from his work at the Colosseum and the morgue, reflecting on his current situation, feeling the bitterness of loss after missing out on a valuable opportunity.
"Haaah... That's the world. Just when you think you're close to winning, the unexpected happens." He sighed deeply, realizing that Alfonso would not be seen again—except maybe on the morgue table... if he could even recognize the body.
"Azul... one of the top hundred fighters in this Colosseum, known for mashing his opponents until you can't tell their face from their torso. "Albert thought grimly. He had tried everything—through his agent—to delay Alfonso's match long enough to extract some formulas from him… but it was no use. Even his agent lacked the authority to interfere. His hope for freedom began to evaporate, just like medicine under the heat of the morgue.
Every formula, treatment, or even medical hint was priced dearly here... and maybe, just maybe, he could exploit that to escape this swamp. Or even gather a small fortune to buy a temporary freedom.
"Haaah..."He sighed again, feeling his soul struggle against the suffocating walls. He then raised his head quietly, surfacing from his ocean of thoughts before drowning in it.
Before him lay the usual scene: A cell that squeezed souls, darkness that devoured sight, and people doomed to the same fate...Yet differing only in the timing of their fall, and the shape of their end.
In the corner, away from watchful eyes, sat a boy with silky white hair that shimmered despite the gloom. An aura of nobility enveloped him—ill-suited for such a place.
He hugged his knees with his arms, his head bowed down, lost in realms of thought, searching for some hope—some thread to escape this pit.
Suddenly, a shadow approached, and the features of "Arwil" emerged. He examined the boy for a moment, then quietly sat beside him.
"...Boy, I'm certain you're not from the same background as the rest of those thrown here by fate."Arwil broke the silence, his voice slicing through the darkness, revealing his suspicion of "Céliel's" origin.
"Sitting alone might soothe the soul's ache... but starving yourself won't heal the wound of loss ."He said this while reflecting on memories from a distant past, then turned toward the boy.
"...I don't know what you've lost, but I can see the glint of vengeance shining in your eyes ."He was certain—he recognized that look. He had lived it... melted into it until it fused with his blood and led him here.
Céliel did not move. He showed no interest, no sign of listening .But Arwil, through the silence, knew the boy had absorbed every word.
"Life is not fair... and this truth has chased us since birth—perhaps even before."
Arwil leaned his head against the wall and continued in a voice laced with the dust of years :"Some are born special, and some are not... whether in beauty, intelligence, or talent .Every person is bound to a fate they never chose."
He smiled a bitter smile: "Some believe they can write their destiny with their own hands... that always amused me. As long as there's a past, there will be a present, then a future. These three are fate."
He paused for a moment, letting his words digest in the boy's mind.
"Even if you had the power to see the future and change it... isn't that still fate in itself?"
He turned to him, with eyes that hadn't lost their sharpness despite everything:
"I'm not saying this to discourage you... it's just that you remind me of something from my youth."
Arwil stood up, took a few steps, then turned back:
"Not everyone wins, boy. Not everyone who tries hard succeeds.But depression... and hunger... will change nothing but increase the pain. Kill yourself if you wish... but don't think anyone will care—not even me."
He left, leaving behind silence and bitter words—hoping they might pull the boy from his pain... even if by deception.
---
Cell Door Opens
The black-clad guard entered, carrying Alfonso's bloodied body. Contrary to expectations, he didn't seem disturbed. He held him with care—as if carrying something precious. This boy had proven he deserved to live… on the arena of death.
He placed him gently beside the wall, then cast a quick glance at Albert. Albert understood the signal and rushed toward the unconscious Alfonso.
Though he had received some initial treatment, his body was still stained with Azul's remains—chunks caught in his hair, his clothes… even his mouth.
The guard exited the cell and slammed the door shut. As for Albert, his eyes widened in astonishment: His chance to escape this place… had returned!
He almost jumped for joy, but contained himself and began examining Alfonso.
"Multiple external injuries... but not fatal. Internal ones... that's the real danger. "His ribs were shattered, and there might be severe internal bleeding. In this state... even if he survived, he wouldn't live long.
"Damn it... damn it... If he dies, all my plans will collapse."
Then...His eyes lit up with an idea:
"Kaisis... wake up, wake up!" He started lightly slapping him, trying to rouse him. If he couldn't save him, then at least... he had to get some formulas before he passed away.
---
Above
In a medium-sized room, its walls made of black marble carved with strange engravings resembling octopus limbs ,a pitch-black desk stood at the end—as if swallowing light.
Behind it sat a handsome man in his thirties, his hair neatly styled in the color of dried blood. Behind him, a massive window with a white wooden frame let in rays of crimson sunlight.
"Sir Telefon, preparations for the noble's match are complete. We can begin at the scheduled time." Announced the masked man standing in front of the desk.
Telefon rested his head on his right hand and pursed his lips with boredom."...No, delay it until next week."
He stood calmly, pushed the chair back precisely, then walked past the masked man to the door and opened it smoothly.
"Now, goodbye... and don't return unless it's necessary. "He said with a fake smile, gesturing toward the exit.
The masked man gritted his teeth—he didn't like the situation, but he obeyed the command.
"Haaaaah..." Telefon sighed after closing the door, then walked toward the engravings on the wall.
His smile vanished. And in its place… came frost.