The training hall was silent, but an undeniable weight filled the air. Tsukihara stood in the centre, his usual composed expression replaced with something unrecognizable—regret, pain, and a quiet acceptance of what was about to come.
Ren, Kael, Lucien, and their older brother all stood in front of him, confused and uneasy. They had just begun to understand the depth of his deception, yet now, he was about to reveal something even darker.
"I will show you everything," Tsukihara said at last, his voice barely above a whisper. "The truth I locked away… the reason I left."
Without another word, he raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly, and pressed his palm against Ren's forehead. A surge of golden energy spread from his fingertips, expanding outward, enveloping Kael, Lucien, and their older brother as well. The world around them blurred, and suddenly, they were no longer standing in the training hall.
They were inside Tsukihara's past.
It was a dark, desolate realm, where the air was thick with the scent of blood and rot. Chains hung from the sky, attached to nothing, swinging as if disturbed by invisible hands. The ground was wet, but it was not water that stained their feet—it was something darker, something that made Ren's stomach twist.
Then, they saw him.
Tsukihara, but not as they knew him.
A younger version of him, barely older than Ren himself, lay broken on the ground, his body covered in deep, jagged wounds that oozed with unnatural black blood. His breathing was shallow, his body trembling violently. His eyes, once fierce and determined, were hollow.
Above him stood celestial beings—godly entities, their forms both majestic and horrifying. Their eyes, golden and burning with cosmic energy, gazed down at him with detached cruelty.
"This one still refuses to break," one of them muttered, tilting its head as if inspecting a flawed creation.
"Perhaps he needs another eternity of suffering," another said, a cruel smirk curling at its lips.
Ren's breath hitched. He wanted to scream, to move, to stop whatever was happening, but he was frozen, forced to witness every second of his father's torment.
The gods raised their hands, and suddenly, Tsukihara was lifted into the air by invisible chains. His body convulsed as divine energy surged through him, searing his skin, burning through his nerves like molten metal.
"STOP!" Ren finally screamed, but his voice did nothing.
Tsukihara's body twitched, his mouth opening in a silent cry of agony as the gods experimented on him like he was nothing more than a plaything. Each wound they inflicted healed within moments, only for them to tear him apart again, an endless cycle of torment.
"He still won't submit," one of them mused. "No matter how many times we break him, he still clings to hope."
"Then take away his hope," another god commanded. "Show him what he protects is nothing more than an illusion."
The scene shifted, and suddenly, Tsukihara was forced to watch visions—visions of Ren, Kael, his students, his family—being tortured, dying, crying for help. He screamed in fury and despair, but no one heard him. No one came.
He was alone.
Alone in a torment that never ended.
The memories flashed forward like a storm, showing years—centuries—of suffering. Tsukihara's body broke and healed thousands of times, his will shattered and rebuilt, over and over. But he never gave in.
The only reason he survived… was them.
Despite everything, despite his mind nearly collapsing under the weight of it all, he endured, knowing that one day, if he could escape, he could keep them safe.
The vision faded, and they were back in the training hall.
But nothing was the same.
Ren collapsed to his knees, his body shaking, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His mind was shattered by the sheer magnitude of what he had witnessed. He had seen people die, he had seen his father suffer in ways beyond human comprehension, and he had felt every second of it as if it had been happening to him.
Kael was hunched over, silent tears streaming down his face, his entire being trembling. Lucien had his hands gripping his head, his own breathing ragged, and even their older brother—so confident, so untouchable—was visibly shaken, his face pale.
Tsukihara stood in front of them, watching them all, his expression unreadable.
"You… you went through all of that alone?" Ren's voice cracked as he looked up, his eyes filled with pain. "You carried that… that nightmare… for us?"
Tsukihara exhaled slowly. "It was never your burden to bear."
Ren clenched his fists, his whole body shaking. "But you lied to us! You made us think we had the right to be angry at you! That we had the right to question why you left!"
"I did," Tsukihara admitted. "I lied, because I knew you would never accept it. I didn't want you to pity me, or worse—hate me for abandoning you."
Silence filled the hall. Then Kael spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't abandon us, Father. You… protected us."
Tsukihara turned away slightly, as if the weight of their words was too much. "I never wanted you to see that part of me," he murmured. "I wanted to keep those memories buried."
Ren wiped at his tears, his breathing uneven. "You didn't deserve that pain. No one does."
For the first time, something in Tsukihara's expression softened. "Perhaps not. But I bore it because I had to."
Lucien swallowed hard, still looking dazed. "You should have told us sooner," he whispered. "You shouldn't have suffered alone."
For a long time, no one spoke.
Then, one by one, they moved. Ren, Kael, Lucien, and their older brother all stepped forward and wrapped their arms around their father, holding onto him tightly.
Tsukihara stiffened, as if unaccustomed to the warmth, but slowly, he closed his eyes and let out a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to be held.
And in that moment, despite the years of agony, despite the nightmares that still lurked in his soul…
He wasn't alone anymore.