Chapter 7: The Descent

The plane landed with a heavy thuc but for Damien, it felt as though he had stepped into a different world The familiar sights of his hometow greeted him, yet nothing felt the same. The unease that had settled over him during his trip to Kyoto gnawed at him, a relentless sensation in his gut. He had come back hoping for clarity, but instead he was plunged back into the very shadows he had tried to escape.

As he made his way through the airport, Damien's thoughts spiraled. Each conversation with the emissaries had only amplified the chaos in his mind. Their offers had been intoxicating, giving him tantalizing glimpses of power and freedom, but he knew better than to trust them. He had seen what darkness could do, how it could consume a person if they allowed it. And now, it was clear: the leaders of the underground fighting ring were not idle while he pondered his choices. They were plotting their next move.

Back in the underground headquarters, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. The council of leaders had gathered again=Asmodeus, Hel, Anubis, and a few other figures from the depths of mythology. Their eyes gleamed with malevolent delight as they discussed their plan for Damien

"He's more conflicted than ever," Hel remarked, her voice smooth as silk. "The other factions have made their offers, and he's feeling the pressure. It's time we give him a reason to turn back to us."

Asmodeus leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "We need to create a situation where he feels utterly desperate, where the weight of the world presses down on him Only then will he understand the power he could wield if he joins us."

"What do you propose?" Anubis asked, his voice calm but intense.

"Let's stage an event that brings the fighting ring into direct conflict with Damien," Asmodeus replied, a cruel smile spreading across his lips. "We'lI create a crisis that forces him to confront his fears head-on. When he sees how powerless he is without us, he'll be ready to bow."

Back in his hometown, Damien returned to the orphanage--a place that now felt more like a prison than a refuge. The memories flooded back: screams, shadows, the metallic scent of blood. The halls echoed with the horrors he had faced reminders of a past he thought he could escape

He spent the next few days trying to regain a semblance of normalcy attending school and training at the gym, but it all felt hollow. Each time he stepped into the ring, the echoes of the mythological powers and the factions' offers reverberated in his mind. It was a constant reminder of the decision looming over him.

Then came the day the leaders of the fighting ring enacted their plan Damien was summoned to a special tournament, an event that promised high stakes and brutal consequences. As he arrived, he felt the atmosphere shift. The energy was charged, electric, with an undercurrent of dread that clung to the air like a thick fog.

The arena was packed, the crowd roaring with excitement, but something felt off. The fighters lined up that night were not just street fighters; rumors swirled that some were connected to the supernatural, creatures who reveled in the thrill of violence. The tension in the air was palpable, a thick, oily weight that seemed to seep into Damien's very bones.

As the fights began, Damien was thrust into the spotlight, forced to battle one opponent after another. At first, he relied on his training, his skill, and the raw talent that had brought him success in the ring. But the fighters were different tonight- stronger, faster, and unrelenting

The first match was vicious. Damien faced a behemoth of a man, muscles rippling beneath his skin. With every punch thrown, the fighter responded with brutal counterattacks, each strike landing with bone-crushing force. Damien could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, yet it was quickly overshadowed by a growing sense of dread. He had faced fierce opponents before, but this felt like something else entirely- like he was being hunted

Blood soon sprayed the canvas, the taste metallic in the air, and Damien found himself on the defensive. He dodged and weaved, but every slip cost him dearly. The crowd roared as the other fighter landed blow after blow, sending Damien sprawling to the ground, his breath escaping him in desperate gasps.

With every round, the pressure mounted, the brutality intensifying He faced a second opponent-a man whose body seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly aura, his eyes glowing with a predatory hunger. The fight turned into a grotesque display, limbs twisting in unnatural angles as fists collided with flesh, sending sprays of blood into the air. Each punch was laced with malice, every jab leaving Damien more battered and bruised.

The third match was no better. His opponent was a woman, agile and quick, her movements like a dance of death. She struck with a series of rapid punches, bloodied knuckles crashing against his face. Damien could feel the pain radiating through him, blurring his vision as the crowd cheered for the carnage.

And then came the fourth round, a nightmare that brought him face-to-face with a fighter cloaked in shadows, his form flickering like an apparition. The opponent moved with supernatural grace, dodging Damien's punches and countering with blows that landed with sickening precision.

With each clash, Damien felt the remnants of his hope begin to fade He was slipping, losing ground, the weight of despair pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. As the shadows swirled around him, they whispered promises of power, of strength beyond his wildest dreams He was exhausted, his body battered and bloodied, but he could feel the darkness beckoning him.

In a moment of desperation, the world around him faded, and he lay sprawled on the canvas, gasping for air. The brutal fights had stripped away any facade of strength, leaving him raw and vulnerable. As he lay there, the whispers grew louder, wrapping around him like a vice

Embrace it. Join us. Power awaits you if you just let go.

From the sidelines, Asmodeus watched with satisfaction, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Let him feel the despair. Let him taste the power that could be his if he would only yield."

As the darkness surrounded Damien a strange warmth washed over him Images flashed before his eyes- memories of the orphanage, the horrors he had faced-but this time they were intertwined with visions of power coursing through him like fire.

Suddenly, he felt it--the primal energy stirring within, awakened by his desperation. It surged, lashing out against the pain and fear that had consumed him. He could feel it beckoning him, inviting him to surrender to the darkness.

The fighter above him paused sensing the shift. The crowd fell silent, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Get up!" a voice cried from the crowd, but it felt distant. Damien's focus was on the power within, the darkness that promised him strength if he gave in. This could be his moment, but at what cost?

With a fierce roar, Damien forced himself to his feet, shaking off the shadows that clung to him. The power was there, thrumming beneath the surface, and he could sense that he had a choice. He could yield to it and become a pawn of the darkness or he could fight to retain his autonomy, to carve his own path.

The shadowy fighter moved in again and Damien squared his shoulders, determination coursing through him. The primal energy surged, awakening something within him that he hadn't known existed. He felt raw and powerful, but also terrified of what it might mean.

He was no longer just fighting an opponent; he was battling the very darkness that sought to consume him. He felt the surge of energy within, a double-edged sword that could either save him or doom him

With a roar, he launched himself at his opponent, fueled by a desperate will to resist the shadows. If he was to embrace power, it would be on his own terms-not as a pawn, but as a warrior ready to carve out his own destiny

But aa the fight raged on, the darkness watched, eager for its chance to claim him.