CHAPTER 98: OUROBOROS: LOSING HOPE

"Hm, this brings back the past," Silas murmured as he crossed his arms, studying the mural in front of him.

"Indeed! I’m proud of my art," Adrian said, puffing out his chest just a little. "And obviously Lucien will love this."

Looking at it made him remember their time in Ouroboros, the darkest time of their life but in the end, it was all worth the pain because they were finally able to meet Lucien again.

.

.

.

"Ah, it hurts!"

Adrian flinched as a dagger sliced across his arm. The pain came sharp and hot, blood dripping down his elbow and mixing with the sudden rainfall that soaked the training field.

His breath hitched, eyes stinging because of the splatter of mud.

THUMP.

The older boy attacking him did not stop there. Marcus slammed a kick into his stomach and Adrian collapsed onto the wet ground, mud splattering his clothes as he curled in on instinct.

His ribs throbbed, and the cold dirt clung to his skin.

SMASH.

Marcus stomped on his arm with a sick grin, pressing down harder as Adrian screamed. The knife in Marcus’s hand glimmered, but Adrian refused to let the pain drown him.

He twisted his wrist and slashed blindly with his own dagger, grazing Marcus’s ankle. The boy hissed and jerked back.

Adrian moved immediately. He pushed himself up, ready to stab the boy who had made his life miserable since the day they arrived.

But a strong hand clamped around his wrist and yanked him still.

"Enough, Cross. This is a simple exercise," the instructor said.

His eyes were cold, annoyed by the disruption rather than the violence.

Adrian froze. Marcus glared at him, he glared back, and the training ended with that silent promise, he would beat the shit out of him one day. A rivalry carved through blood and mud.

This was normal in Ouroboros. At the start, the twins had been terrified, whispering that Lucien would come for them any day.

They believed in him so deeply it hurt. But days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the hope began to rot.

They tried to escape. Many times. And every time, they failed and paid for it with bruises and lashes that burned for days. Eventually, even the hope they clung to began to crumble.

"How is your arm?" Silas asked later as they sat in the dim cafeteria.

The whole place smelled like boiled starch and metal, and the food tasted worse than prison slop.

Nothing like the warm meals from the Lucero mansion that still haunted their dreams.

"It’s fine. It only stings," Adrian answered.

The wound had been patched in the infirmary, but the skin pulsed painfully.

"Don’t lie. You were groaning when that bastard stepped on you." Silas clenched his fists.

"Tomorrow is the match. One of us will win and we can finally get out of this place."

Adrian kept chewing without swallowing. The food turned into paste on his tongue.

The Match. A one-on-one tournament between every trainee with a sole winner. A chance to leave Ouroboros for a single day. Only one chance to see the world outside the gray walls.

"One of us will go to the Lucero mansion. We can tell them we’re alive. They’ll help—"

Adrian slammed his hand onto the table. "Stop. Just stop."

Bitterness coated his mouth. "I don’t think anyone is searching for us. We’re abandoned, Silas."

"Lucien would never abandon us. He always comes back. He always tries to save us."

Silas’s voice dropped, a soft desperate whisper meant only for Adrian. "He would never—"

"You’ve been saying that for an entire year, and we’re still here!" Adrian’s voice cracked as it rose, making the whole cafeteria turn to stare.

"I’m tired. I’m tired of hoping. I’m tired of waiting for something that never happens."

Silas stiffened. His eyes dimmed, hurt flashing across them. "You’ve changed. You’re not the Adrian I know."

Adrian grabbed his tray and stood up. "So what? I’m human too. I want to survive. I’m done waiting for miracles while this place drags us down over and over again."

He walked away before his voice could break.

The fight carved a deep ache in his chest, one that throbbed worse than any wound Marcus ever gave him.

For the first time in their lives, Adrian and Silas were no longer standing on the same side of hope.

***

At night, Adrian finally drifted into sleep. His dreams wrapped around him like a warm blanket, pulling him somewhere soft, somewhere familiar.

Lucien stood there again, the way he remembered him when they were in that flower field. That golden hair moved gently with the wind, brushing across his forehead.

Those amethyst eyes glowed like a lantern in the dark, always watching and reassuring.

Lucien laughed, the sound bright and warm, and his hands reached for Adrian the same way they used to, guiding him toward the light so easily it hurt.

Adrian felt his chest unclench. He had been terrified he would forget that face completely. His memories had been fading little by little, fraying like old threads.

Only Silas kept the photo safe, the last piece of Lucien they had. And now they had fought... which meant Adrian could no longer bring himself to ask for it.

Lucien was slipping away every day.

Suddenly something tightened around his throat.

The dream was shattered. His body jerked awake as hands strangled him, cutting off his air. He gasped sharply and realized he couldn’t see anything.

A rough sack covered his head and someone dragged him across the floor. His heartbeat pounded against his skull.

"Who are you?! What do you want? Let go of me!"

His voice cracked, but the grip only tightened.

He recognized the laughter first. Marcus. Of course, it was him.

"That’s what you get, bastard. Think you can play dirty? Think I lost? Please. You were just lucky I felt sorry for you."

A door creaked open and he was thrown inside. The floor was cold, damp, and unforgiving.

Before he could even get onto his knees, fists slammed into him from every direction. Hands yanked at his hair. Boots kicked into his ribs. The sack muffled the blows but not the pain.

"Fuck you, Cross!"

"You won’t be at the Match tomorrow!"

"Acting all big after one little scratch? Pathetic!"

"Haha! Get him again!"

Adrian didn’t know how long it lasted. Time stretched and twisted until only the sound of breathing and pain existed.

The taste of iron filled his mouth when a punch cracked against his jaw. He stopped trying to fight back and instead curled inward, arms wrapped around his head as he endured the storm.

He refused to scream. He refused to call for anyone. His pride wouldn’t allow it, even as his mind whispered two names like a prayer.

’Silas, please, Lucien... help me...’

But Lucien wasn’t here. He didn’t even know they were here and kept living somewhere warm and safe.

And Silas... he had pushed him away, so why would he come?

Eventually, the beating stopped. The door slammed shut and the darkness swallowed him whole again.

Tears slipped down Adrian’s cheeks before he could wipe them away. He hugged himself tightly, trying to mimic the warmth he remembered from that dream.

Lucien’s arms could shield them from anything. Silas’s grip always pulled him back from fear.

Yet now one had abandoned him, and the other he had turned into an enemy.

Adrian lay alone in the dark. He didn’t fear the darkness anymore. What terrified him was the idea that this emptiness might be the only thing he had left. The Match didn’t matter. Winning didn’t matter.

A single thought echoed softly in the dark.

’Maybe disappearing would hurt less.’