On Top of the Food Chain

Kazuki stood in a vast, blood-filled void, the horizon lost in a crimson sea that pulsed and churned with a life of its own. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, suffocating and cloying.

From the depths of the crimson ocean, countless arms began to rise—twisted, pale, and covered in veins, their fingers reaching out toward him, grasping, clawing. The hands made no sound, but their desperate motion filled the void with a silent scream.

Suddenly, the world shifted violently, and Kazuki found himself in the familiar fighting ring dome. The blinding lights above cast harsh shadows, creating a disorienting contrast. Before him lay Elyas and Harley, their bodies battered and broken, just as he had left them.

Blood pooled beneath them, mixing with the dirt on the floor, creating a grotesque mosaic. Kazuki's hands trembled as he realized he was gripping the sledgehammer, its weight both familiar and foreign. He could feel every beat of his heart reverberating through the cold metal.

Without understanding why, Kazuki began to move. He raised the sledgehammer high above his head, and then brought it crashing down onto Elyas's mangled body. The sound of flesh and bone breaking echoed in his ears, but before he could process the horror, he found himself swinging at Harley, her eyes wide with fear.

The scene became a macabre dance, Kazuki moving between the two bodies, each strike more brutal than the last. The dome around him pulsed with every hit, the crowd’s cheers merging with the sickening sound of metal meeting flesh.

Darkness descended again, swallowing the ring and everything within it. When the light returned, Kazuki was standing in Junpei's home. The room was warm, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. Junpei, Endo, and Rika were there, smiling at him, their faces serene, their eyes filled with trust.

But as Kazuki blinked, the lights flickered out, plunging the room into pitch blackness. When they came back on, blood was everywhere—on the walls, the floor, his clothes. Kazuki looked down to see the sledgehammer in his hands, dripping with fresh blood. Junpei, Endo, and Rika were unrecognizable, their faces shattered, their bodies lifeless.

Panic gripped him, but the darkness returned before he could scream. This time, he was standing before Grace, who looked at him with a mix of brotherhood and care. Kazuki tried to speak but his voice was drowned out by the rhythmic thumping of his own heartbeat. He raised the sledgehammer once more, but this time, it felt like his body wasn’t moving on its own. Soon the hammer came down, and the lights went out.

When the world reappeared, Kazuki was home, with the comforting scent of his mother's meat dish wafting through the air. But the smell turned rancid as the memory of blood filled his nostrils. He looked around frantically, expecting to see the carnage he had wrought, but everything was still. The sense of safety and warmth quickly turned into a prison of horror.

He screamed, the sound tearing through the silence of the nightmare, and suddenly, he was awake. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, sweat drenched his body, and his hands were trembling violently. The images from the nightmare lingered in his mind, each one more horrifying than the last, as the realization settled in: he was going insane.

***

Kazuki jolted awake, his breath ragged, his heart pounding as if it were trying to escape his chest. The nightmare clung to him like a dark shroud, the horrific images still fresh in his mind. He could still feel the weight of the sledgehammer in his hands, the sickening sound of flesh and bone shattering. His thoughts spiraled inwards, a whirlpool of guilt and fear.

‘Am I becoming more of a monster than the ones I’ve been fighting?’ The thought gnawed at him, a bitter realization that sent a shiver down his spine. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. The darkness in his soul seemed to mirror the nightmares he couldn’t escape.

His gaze drifted to the floor beside his futon, where a document lay, slightly crumpled. It was a reminder of the reality he was still trapped in, a reality where the next opponent awaited. He picked up the paper, scanning the details with a furrowed brow.

The name ‘Fat Bastard’ was printed at the top, a grotesque moniker for a man whose size was as formidable as his reputation. According to the file, Fat Bastard was an Awakend human akin to a sumo wrestler, known for his immense strength and nearly impenetrable defense. However, the report noted one critical weakness—he lacked speed.

Kazuki’s eyes narrowed as he read further. The file mentioned that Fat Bastard’s Pathway was centered around utility, a versatile skill set that made him a dangerous opponent despite his sluggishness. More importantly, it highlighted that he had unlocked three Marmic Chakras.

Kazuki knew little about the intricacies of the Awakened, but he had learned enough to understand the significance of Marmic Chakras. Humans have seven Chakras, each representing a different facet of power. As they grew stronger, they unlocked these Chakras, gaining access to greater abilities and amplifying their strengths. Those who unlocked three Chakras were already considered strong, formidable even.

Facing Fat Bastard wasn’t going to be easy. Kazuki could feel the weight of the challenge ahead. ‘I won’t stand a chance without using my Aura.’ The thought of using his Aura, the same power, which according to his understanding had driven him to such horrifying lengths of insanity, made his stomach churn. But he knew it was the only way. His fist tightened around the document, crumpling the edge as he remembered how he had finally manifested Aura claws for the first time.

***

Kazuki approached the discarded burger box, his steps heavy with dread. As he opened it, a wave of foul, rotting stench hit him hard, the pungent odor of decaying patty flooding his senses. His stomach turned, bile rising in his throat, and he nearly lost it right there. But he needed strength. He needed to win and survive.

‘How do I even do this?’ he thought, his mind swirling with desperation.

With shaking hands, he picked up the patty, its slimy texture clinging to his fingers. In one desperate motion, he shoved it into his mouth. The moment it touched his tongue, his insides rebelled. His stomach convulsed, the rancid taste overwhelming him.

He gagged, feeling the vomit rising rapidly. Rushing to the toilet, he tried to swallow the patty whole, not even daring to chew. He didn't care that it was human meat. He didn't care that it was the most revolting thing he'd ever put in his mouth. All that mattered was forcing it down.

He vomited violently, the patty coming back up with a sickening splatter onto the floor. But Kazuki, driven by a twisted resolve, picked it up again, shoving it back into his mouth. He retched, the vile taste clinging to his throat, but he forced it down once more. Again, it came back up. And again, he ate it. Over and over, he repeated this horrific cycle until, finally, his body accepted the meat, the vomit subsiding.

After forcing down the patty, Kazuki sat cross-legged on the cold floor of his cell, trying to steady his breath. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, willing himself to ignore the taste lingering in his mouth, the nausea that still threatened to overwhelm him.

Slowly, the familiar warmth began to stir in his solar plexus, a small ember of energy that grew and spread, driving out the disgust and revulsion from his mind. All that mattered now was the Aura, the power he needed to manifest.

As the warmth intensified, he felt a rush of energy unlike anything he’d experienced before. It was a different kind of nourishment, more potent and primal, echoing the feeling he had when he consumed Rika and Junpei’s blood, but magnified tenfold. This energy coursed through him, filling every nerve, every muscle, until it reached his hands.

Kazuki's fingers twitched involuntarily as the energy pooled there, and suddenly, his hands ignited with a fierce red light. Menacing claws formed from the Aura, sharp and deadly, extending from his fingertips. But his hands were in a yoga mudra, and the claws, uncontrolled and wild, pierced his own palms.

He gasped, the pain sharp and immediate, but his gaze was locked on the sight of his hands. Red, from both his blood and the Aura that flowed through him, mingling in a surreal display of power and vulnerability.

His emotions were a chaotic storm—happiness at the strength he had gained, disgust at the lengths he had gone to obtain it, relief that he had succeeded, anger at the situation that forced him into this state.

But before he could even begin to sort through the whirlwind in his mind, a sharp knock on the jail bars snapped him out of his trance. The guard stood there, impassive, “Time for the fight. Come on.”

Kazuki looked at his bloodied hands once more, then rose to his feet, the red Aura still flickering.