TOK! TOK! TOK! The sound of the gavel echoed once again through the same cold chamber. The metallic tang and dust still stung my nose, mocking me—like they knew my suffering would never end.
The middle-aged judge sat behind his desk, his maroon robe frayed and dusty at the hem. I stood in the center of the room, chains hanging from my wrists. It hurt—damn it, it still hurt, just like the last execution.
"The defendant, Max Tharions. "His voice was hoarse but steady, reverberating across the hall." Based on the evaluation after the fifth execution, this court hereby declares... the subject incapable of permanent death."
A murmur rippled through the courtroom. Heh. Don't look at me like that. I'm God's chosen freak, remember? Careful, or you might catch some of my curse.
The judge continued, "Therefore, under the supplemental article of the National Crime Act Post-Reconstruction—Article 31, Section 7—the defendant shall be transferred to the Arena Rebirth Program."
TOK! The gavel struck again. I stared blankly at him.
Heh, just as I thought. They wanted to turn me into a spectacle—an undying gladiator, a freak who'd die for eternity. A faint smile slipped out—not a human smile, but something left over from a shattered soul.
"If you survive and become the champion of the arena," the judge said, "the state will restore your freedom."
I lowered my head. My hair fell over my eyes. "Freedom, huh…" I muttered. That word only existed to make all this filth sound noble to the public.
No one had ever conquered the Arena. Not a single convict. It wasn't a place of redemption—it was an execution ground dressed as entertainment.
TOK! TOK! TOK! "Court adjourned."
Two men in black suits stepped forward. One of them had a long scar across his chin—I remembered him. He was the one who always came to collect me every time I "came back."
"Take him below," the judge ordered.
The chains on my wrists rattled as they pulled. I walked through a sea of reporters, officials, spectators… maybe even people I once knew. Their eyes stabbed into me, but I didn't care.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the twelfth round begins! REXX the Destroyer will now face the beast known as… CERBERATH!!!"
The commentator's voice thundered through the halls as we left the courtroom behind.
We stopped in front of an old, rusted elevator. Chains hung from the ceiling, clinking softly like the labored breath of a dying metal corpse. The scarred man pressed the button marked 10.
Creaaak…The door opened with a groan. The stench of oil and rust poured out.
"Get in."
I stepped inside. The chains scraped against the metal walls. Two guards followed. The control panel flickered: LEVEL 10 – ACCESS RESTRICTED.
The elevator began its descent. Its sound was deep, steady—like the breath of an ancient machine.
I closed my eyes. In the silence, there was only their breathing… and my heartbeat.
No choice. No voice. The lift kept descending—deeper, darker—toward the place where humans stopped being human.
Crack…The door slid open.
Heat and the stench of blood hit me like a wave. Metal, sweat, and something rotten coated my throat.
From above, a thunderous roar erupted—"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The crowd's cheer rolled through the arena like a living storm—wild, hungry, deafening.
I looked around. A long corridor lined with metal walls, graffiti everywhere. Tiered cages rose upward, filled with guards in black uniforms and countless prisoners watching from behind iron bars.
Their eyes followed me—sharp, feral. Bodies covered in tattoos and burn scars. Some were silent. Others grinned, whispering like they'd just been handed a new toy.
Gok! Gok! Gok! The dogs barked—but these weren't dogs. Their fangs were daggers, foam dripping from their maws.Some had two heads. Some… three.
At the end of the corridor stood a massive iron gate. Orange light leaked through its cracks, along with screams and clashing steel from within.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!""REXX! THE DESTROYER! HE CAN'T HANDLE CERBERATH!! IT BIT HIM—AAAAAARGHHHH—HIS HEAD'S OFF!!! DID YOU SEE THAT, FOLKS?! HIS HEAD'S OFF!!!"
Cerberath, huh… I'd heard the name before—a creature born of experiments. A wolf the size of a bear, with three heads, serrated fangs, and eyes burning like coals. They said it had its own will.
I let out a slow breath. "Damn…"
Rexx was done for. I could hear bones breaking, flesh tearing.So I'm next, huh?
The two men still stood behind me, their faces blank, motionless.Hah… a little too fast, isn't it?
I'd barely been executed, woke up again because of that brown-eyed man's rambling—whoever he was—and before I could even breathe, they dragged me here.Shouldn't there be a pause?A moment… to process any of this?
If someone ever wrote my life as a novel, they'd probably say the pacing was broken.Too fast. Too random.
"Hahhh…" I sighed, standing right in front of the gate's narrow slit. Light spilled across my face—warm, almost gentle.
And somehow, in the chaos of sound around me… I thought of that dream again. A silhouette of a woman. Pink hair. Calling my name.
"April…" I whispered.
After everything that's happened… would you still call my name? Would you still care the way you used to?
You know, since I got thrown into this prison… I haven't really understood what I feel anymore.
At first, I thought it was regret—for what I'd done, or for what happened to you.But it wasn't.
What I feel isn't regret. It isn't sadness.It isn't guilt.
It's anger.
Not at those who killed you, or those who betrayed us—but at God.
Anger at the fate He wrote for me. Anger that He created me like this, and forced me to walk this path I never asked for.
You know, April…Even after all of it—after your death, after I lost everything—I never held a grudge against anyone.No hatred. Just… rebellion.
I refused to keep living, not out of guilt, but because I wanted to defy the God who made me this way.
Hah… ironic, isn't it?Maybe that's why, in my final moment, He gave me this so-called "miracle"—a life that can never die.
You hear that, April? Looks like you were right all along. God does exist.
April…If you could hear all this, would you be angry with me?Or just disappointed?
You know… people now think I ate you.Funny, isn't it?
I sighed, inhaling the damp air thick with blood and metal.It weighed heavy in my chest.
Somewhere in that suffocating silence, I remembered the words of that brown-eyed man from the prison."What will you do next?" he'd asked.
I laughed quietly to myself. Honestly… I don't know. My purpose died long ago. All I ever wanted was death. But once I learned I couldn't die, I lost even that.
Should I hunt down those who betrayed me? The ones who framed me? The ones who killed April?
Strangely… I don't feel like it.
Maybe overthrow the government? Hah… what a joke.
April… maybe I never really had a purpose at all.I just followed your steps, your ideals.And when I lost you—I lost everything.
…
My own breathing was the loudest sound left in the corridor, until—
"AND NOW!!! LOYAL VIEWERS OF THE REBIRTH ARENA!!!"
The speakers above roared, shattering my thoughts. The voice was booming, manic, soaked in artificial excitement.
"AFTER THE TRAGIC FALL OF REXX AGAINST CERBERATH, WE BRING YOU… THE RETURN OF A TRAITOR! THE SYMBOL OF FAILURE! ONE OF THE LAST REMAINING MEMBERS OF THE VEIL! MAX THARIONS!!!"
The crowd exploded."OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
I tilted my head up slowly, staring at the trembling metal wall before me. Heh… a traitor, huh?
You hear that, April? Looks like your theory about humanity was wrong.
You once said humans were good by nature—only lost because of circumstance. But look at them now. The same people who once praised me—called me their protector—are now laughing as I'm thrown into a cage like an animal.
Humans don't change because of suffering, April.They just change what they worship, depending on who makes them feel safe.
Funny, isn't it? I died over and over for them… and now they cheer for me to die again.
The commentator's voice grew even more feverish: "THE PEOPLE WHO ONCE DEFIED THE STATE—WHO ONCE SWORE TO FIGHT FOR THE VOICES OF THE MASSES—""THEY WERE ALL LIES! EMPTY WORDS!""LOOK AT YOUR HERO NOW—HE MURDERED HIS OWN PEOPLE! BETRAYED HIS COMRADES!""AND THE MOST DISGUSTING OF ALL—HE ATE HIS OWN LOVER!!!"
The arena erupted into chaos."OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!""Traitor!""Bastard!""Die already!"
I closed my eyes for a moment.Funny. How fast the world turns.
I once believed what we were doing was right, April.I thought we were fighting injustice.Now? The same people I swore to protect are cheering for my death.
"ARE YOU READY, DEAR AUDIENCE?! IN JUST A FEW SECONDS… THE GATES OF HELL WILL OPEN FOR MAX THARIONS!!!"
Red lights flashed. Sirens wailed.I heard the metal gate in front of me creak, shudder, then slowly open.
Heat, blood, and the roar of the crowd swallowed every thought I had left.
"Heh…" I muttered softly, staring into the orange glow beyond."If this is what redemption looks like… then maybe hell's the more honest place."
Damn it. They didn't even give me a weapon.Aren't the other prisoners supposed to have one?
At least… they could've removed the cuffs.
Even if I can't die, I can still feel pain.
Hah… funny thing is—I've never been afraid of dying.
But pain…Pain still terrifies me.
The sound of grinding metal echoed again. Grrrrkkk… ggggkkkrrrkkk… The massive gate before me began to move—slowly, heavily, as if reluctant to open.
The faint orange glow that once slipped through its cracks now swelled, cutting through the haze of dust and striking my face. For a moment, my eyes stung. Fine grains swirled through the air, clinging to my skin, weaving into my hair, piercing my nose. I blinked, but it was useless—the wind from beyond the gate felt like the breath of some giant just waking from a long slumber.
Whoooosshhhh—Hot air rushed out, thick with the scent of iron and fresh blood.
I could feel it—sharp, heavy, suffocating—wrapping around my throat. Damn… the air was still wet. Someone had just died in there.
The light grew stronger. Dust spiraled through the air, dancing beneath the red-orange glare of the arena lamps. I narrowed my eyes, trying to pierce through the brightness, and then—I saw it.
A ground of dark, crimson sand.Fresh streaks of blood crawled slowly along claw marks and dragged trails.
The arena was vast—far larger than I imagined—perfectly circular, like a colossal amphitheater.From above, the crowd roared.
"OPEN IT!!!""COME OUT!!!"
Their voices collided, merging into a single thunderous hum that rattled my chest.I stood still. The chains on my wrists swayed gently, clinking every time the wind touched them.
Dust still danced around me, wrapping my body like a thin veil. The air itself felt alive—thick and trembling—with the hunger for blood.
The gate was almost fully open now. Light devoured my body, and my shadow stretched long across the sand. Beyond that light, I could hear it—heavy footsteps. Two… three… then silence.
A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips."So… this is how it begins," I murmured softly.
The bloody air burned my lungs, yet somehow, I chuckled."Heh… it's been a long time since I smelled this."
Then—KRRAAAKKK!!! The steel doors groaned open completely.
A wave of heat slammed into me. Dust, sand, and the stench of metal fused together, choking the air. I squinted against the blinding light—it was like being thrown straight into the heart of a furnace.
I stepped forward. The chains clattered against the floor, ringing sharply, answered by the wild screams above.
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!""MAX!!! MAX!!! MAX!!!""There he is! The immortal traitor!""Heh, think he'll last longer than Rexx?"
My steps were heavy, but every one of them felt real—pressing into the coarse, blood-soaked sand. Dust rose and swirled beneath the scarlet glow. The dry wind carried the scent of death from every direction.
I lifted my head. From here, I could see everything. The arena… it was so much bigger than I'd imagined from my cell. Iron walls towered above, covered in chaotic graffiti—symbols of rebellion, prayers, curses from those who never made it back. Spotlights swung overhead, replacing the sky that no longer existed.
And up there—tiny humans screamed, laughed, and looked down at me like I was their evening entertainment at the end of the world.
I drew in a long breath. The bloody air was thick, but somehow, it felt alive.For the first time in a long while… I truly felt something.
Not fear.Not rage.Just the awareness that I existed—right here, in this moment.
Maybe… this was what it felt like to stand beneath God's gaze—exposed, judged, and expected to fall.Heh. If that's the case… then let me fall beautifully.
A small grin curved on my lips. "If this is my stage…"
I raised my head, meeting the burning spotlight aimed only at me."…then let them enjoy the show."
The crowd erupted again. Lights spun wildly, converging at the center of the arena—on me, the lone figure standing in a field of blood-soaked sand.
And from the speakers above, the commentator's voice blared back to life—drenched in fake enthusiasm and cheap drama, hungry for the next drop of blood.