Three weeks later. Inside Grim's compound, the air smelled of rot and blood. Zombies littered the floor, lifeless or twitching, and Grim moved among them like a predator, killing methodically.
Starved and broken, John knelt on the floor, dragging corpses from one pile to another. His hair had grown wild, falling past his eyes; his beard was thick, filthy, likely crawling with insects. He hadn't spoken in days. Grim watched him, silent, studying the boy he had slowly reshaped. John moved slower now, his once-sharp reflexes dulled — maybe Grim had actually broken John Van Reap. Maybe. It was too early to tell.
Hours passed. Grim's henchmen entered, tying John up. A voice pierced the air:
"SAVIOR. You have a visitor."
The cell door creaked open. There, framed in the doorway, stood Savior — the man whose back bore the scar of John's name, carved deep and permanent. Savior's eyes widened. He choked on his own spit, seeing John standing quietly in the shadows, the devil he had once known.
Grim stepped forward, closing the door behind them. "Enjoy your reunion," he said flatly, locking them in the same cell.
Night fell. Outside, the dead gnawed and snarled, a chorus of hunger and decay. Inside, John sat unmoving, eyes fixed on Savior. And then, like a spark igniting dry kindling, they snapped.
The fight was sudden, brutal. They crashed together, fists and chains flying. Savior laughed through the pain. "You're not the same John who did this to me!"
John tilted his head, silent. Then a headbutt, followed by a right hook, and finally, chains wrapped around Savior's throat. Silence swallowed the cell.
Cut to Grim, standing with his right-hand man, Timmy. Henchmen tossed ideas back and forth.
"Why not just enslave him?" one suggested.
Grim shook his head, smile fading. "Too damn cool for that. Or are you not paying attention? He killed twenty men… with a fucking knife. Can you do that?"
The room was silent.
"Exactly," Grim said. Then he stood, socking Timmy in the jaw. "I'm gonna break him…"
A scream from the inner compound cut him off. Grim grabbed Destroyer, Timmy holding his face, and they ran toward the noise.
We pan back to the cell. John and Savior fought, but John moved with a terrifying calm. Chains coiled like vipers, crushing and constricting. Savior gasped, laughing in disbelief.
"You're… not… the same John…"
John's head tilted. No words fell. A headbutt, a right hook, then chains tightening around Savior's throat. Darkness swallowed the room.
When the smoke cleared, John stepped out naked into the burning compound. Flames licked the walls, smoke curling around his body. He shook, letting out a growl that was more beast than man. One eye glowed red, infection spreading beneath the surface.
The compound burned. The night trembled. John Van Reap had risen.