Chapter 23: Through the Veil of Madness
The nights in the Maw had always been long and cruel, but this one felt different.
Ryo sat in the stillness of his cell, his heartbeat pounding in his ears like a war drum. The silence was not comforting—it was suffocating. It wrapped around his thoughts, distorting them, pulling memories from the past and twisting them into grotesque hallucinations.
He gripped the edge of his bunk, trying to focus, trying to breathe.
But it was happening again.
The walls pulsed as though alive. His skin itched, burned. And then, the voices returned—soft at first, like whispers carried on the wind. Then louder. Then screaming.
"Ryo…"
He spun around.
No one.
But he could hear it—his name, again and again, echoing through the dark like a chant. His breathing grew shallow. The cell stretched and contracted, the corners warping and spinning.
He clutched his head. "Get out…"
A laugh echoed from the shadows. Familiar. Chilling.
"Is this what you wanted?" the voice asked. "To be strong? To suffer?"
The voice wasn't just a hallucination—it was someone he once knew.
And then he saw him.
Standing in the center of the cell was Daigo—a fighter from the early days of the tournament. A boy Ryo had once trained with. Someone he had respected. Someone who had vanished without a trace.
Only now, Daigo looked wrong. His skin was pale and cracked, eyes hollow but glowing with the telltale shimmer of the serum. Muscles twitched under a patchwork of scars. He looked like a puppet carved from broken flesh and memories.
"Daigo?" Ryo whispered.
"You left me, Ryo," the figure croaked. "You kept going… and I was forgotten. You stepped over my body to climb higher."
"No. That's not true."
Daigo's twisted face contorted into a grin. "Isn't it? Isn't this what you wanted? Power… at any cost?"
Ryo stumbled backward, crashing into the stone wall. The air felt thicker now, as if the cell itself wanted to suffocate him. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake the vision.
But Daigo was still there.
"You think you're different?" Daigo's voice grew deeper. "You think you haven't already crossed the line? Look at yourself!"
The hallucination surged forward. Ryo threw up his arms to defend himself—but nothing came. When he opened his eyes again, the cell was empty.
He collapsed to his knees, drenched in sweat.
This wasn't just serum withdrawal or pressure. This was madness.
The serum was winning.
The next morning, the sun barely broke through the storm-covered sky. Ryo staggered into the mess hall, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling. Taro spotted him immediately and rushed to his side.
"Ryo," Taro whispered, "You look like hell."
Ryo didn't respond. His mind was still haunted by Daigo's ghost.
They sat at an isolated table. Taro lowered his voice. "You're losing it. I've seen this before. The serum eats you from the inside—memories, thoughts, even guilt—twisted against you. If you don't stop now…"
"I saw him, Taro," Ryo murmured. "Daigo. He was here. He—he spoke to me."
Taro's face darkened. "Daigo's dead, Ryo. I found his body weeks ago. He took a triple dose. Didn't even last the night."
Ryo stared into his trembling hands. "Then why do I still hear him?"
Taro hesitated, then pulled something from his coat—a folded scrap of paper, stained with blood and dirt.
"What's this?"
"Daigo's final note," Taro said. "He left it under his bunk. I kept it… I thought you should see."
Ryo unfolded the paper. The handwriting was broken and shaky, but the words were clear.
"I wanted to be strong… like Ryo. But I wasn't. I lost myself. Tell him I'm sorry… I couldn't keep up. I couldn't be like him."
Ryo's breath hitched.
It wasn't a hallucination. It was guilt.
He looked up at Taro, eyes hollow. "I didn't want this."
"No one does," Taro said quietly. "But we're here now. And if you want to survive, you have to decide—are you going to be haunted by ghosts? Or are you going to fight for something real?"
That night, the hallucinations returned. But this time, Ryo didn't run.
He stood in the center of his cell, fists clenched, and when Daigo appeared again—no longer as a monster but as the boy he once knew—Ryo spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Daigo tilted his head. "For what?"
"For not being able to save you."
The hallucination paused, and for a moment, it almost looked… at peace.
"You still can," Daigo whispered. "Not me. But the others. Before it's too late."
Then the image faded. The walls stilled. And for the first time in days, Ryo's mind was quiet.
He didn't sleep.
He prepared.
Because now, the madness was behind him—and what came next would require clarity. Resolve. And the strength to face everything the Maw still had left.
The veil had lifted.
And beyond it, the war continued.