Kaizen sat in the darkness of his cell, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. His body ached from the daily torment, his joints barely able to move from the repeated breaking and resetting. His lips were split, his tongue raw from countless cuts. The pain had become part of him, something that never faded, never lessened.
But today was different.
Bhikkhu would return soon. Kaizen had to prepare an answer. He had to give a location, a name, something that would satisfy the High Monk. His mind raced, forcing every fragment of memory to the surface.
A river. A small town. A sign he could not read.
He clung to those details, shaping them into a response. But then—
Laughter.
It started as a whisper, deep inside his head.
Then it grew.
A chorus of voices, laughing, mocking.
Kaizen's breath caught in his throat. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
"What's so funny?" he growled through clenched teeth.
The laughter intensified, echoing in his skull, stretching in all directions.
"Oh, Kaizen…" one voice purred, smooth and amused.
"You still don't get it, do you?"
Kaizen's heartbeat quickened. His fingers twitched as an icy dread crept up his spine.
"Get what?"
The voices spoke in unison now, their tones dripping with cruel delight.
"It was all a dream."
Kaizen's breath hitched. His body stiffened.
"What?"
"Everything," the demons continued, their laughter never ceasing. "Your precious little village. Your peace. Your love. Your family. Every single moment. None of it was real."
Kaizen shook his head violently. "You're lying."
The laughter swelled, filling his skull until it felt like his head would split open.
"Do you really think absorbing one million of us would come without consequences?"
Kaizen's breathing became ragged. His hands gripped his arms, trembling.
"No," he whispered. "No, that's not possible. I was there. I—"
"You were never there," a voice interrupted coldly. "You never left the frozen continent. You've been here all along."
Kaizen's chest tightened. His stomach twisted into knots.
"But… Aoi. Sakura. Itsuro. I—"
"Imaginary," the voices cooed.
His throat closed. His body felt like it was caving in on itself.
"No."
"Yes."
"You're lying!" Kaizen roared, slamming his head back against the wall.
The demons only laughed harder.
Kaizen's hands shot up to his face, clawing at his skin. His nails dug deep, ripping through flesh. Blood dripped down his arms as he tore at himself, but the pain didn't register.
He was suffocating.
Everything—the warmth, the love, the peace—had been a lie?
Sakura's laughter. Aoi's gentle smile. Itsuro's firm guidance.
All fake?
His fingers trembled as they traced over his face, his skin raw and torn. His breaths came in sharp gasps.
"Tell us, Kaizen… who is real?"
His mind was a blur of memories, flashes of faces that had once been his entire world.
Had he ever touched Aoi's hand? Had he ever heard Sakura call his name? Had he ever fought beside Itsuro?
Or had it all been shadows in his mind?
The demons kept laughing. Ten minutes passed. They did not stop.
Kaizen pressed his forehead to the cold stone, his bloodied hands gripping his skull. He could feel the world crumbling around him. His pulse pounded in his ears.
Then, a whisper—soft and cruel.
"Open your eyes, Kaizen."
He hesitated.
"Open them."
Slowly, trembling, Kaizen lifted his head.
And then—
The cell was gone.
The damp stone walls, the chains, the stench of blood and sweat—gone.
Instead, he found himself kneeling in the middle of a vast, frozen wasteland. The sky was dark, the moon casting a pale glow over the endless expanse of ice and snow.
His breath came in shallow gasps as he looked around.
No capital city.
No prison cell.
No Bhikkhu.
No Aoi.
No Sakura.
No Itsuro.
Just… nothing.
The wind howled across the tundra, the only sound in the endless silence.
Kaizen's body trembled. His lips parted, but no words came out.
His mind reeled, trying to reject the truth staring him in the face.
The village had never existed.
His family had never existed.
The past five years had never happened.
He had never been captured.
He had never suffered in the unholy cell.
It had all been in his head.
The demons' laughter had finally stopped.
They had nothing more to say.
Kaizen was alone.
Utterly, completely alone.