Endurance Born of Pain
Seiya gasped, horror filling his wide eyes as he looked down at the dagger embedded in his stomach.
He panted, struggling for air, and dropped to his knees, one hand braced on the floor to keep himself upright.
With a swift, brutal motion, his father pulled the dagger free, unleashing a fresh wave of pain that seared through Seiya's body as blood pooled onto the ground beneath him.
"Oh, come on now! This is nothing compared to what awaits you. Stop writhing over a little pain," his father chided, his tone sharp and dismissive.
Seiya's face grew pale, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to master the agony.
He looked up with a silent question—was his father going to heal him, as he'd done before?
His father smirked, returning to his seat.
"No, you won't be healed. Not yet, at least. But let me rephrase my command."
His expression hardened, voice growing colder as the air around him darkened. "Do fifty push-ups. With that wound."
Seiya knew defiance wasn't an option; he pushed himself into position, muscles quaking with pain.
Doing push-ups should have been easy for Seiya—he'd trained with a wooden sword for years, building both strength and stamina. But now, weakened and bleeding, each movement felt like fire ripping through his veins.
He forced himself through the motions, counting quietly as he went.
It wasn't as easy as Seiya thought it would be.
The way his body and muscles constricted when he pushes up and down, caused bone deep pain to surge through his body and blood to spill more.
Nonetheless, Seiya had always been known for his persistence and endurance so he continued.
At eleven push-ups, his body gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor, raising himself slightly to keep the wound from grinding against the cold, hard ground.
"Amazing," his father said, clapping slowly as he approached.
"Every person has a breaking point and a certain percent of endurance but yours, Seiya, is beyond impressive!" He continued to clap, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
"Your endurance leaves me in awe, sometimes enough to wonder if it's after all your Awakened Ability." His laughter echoed.
"But you know something, Seiya?" He approached.
"The human ideas and emotions are fleeting, that is why they're unpredictable beings"
Then his expression shifted. "But motivation, Seiya—motivation is what drives you to go beyond your limits."
His father squatted beside him, voice icy and patronizing. "I gave you a simple task: fifty push-ups, no time limit, with a minor injury. I avoided your vital organs for this. And yet here you are. So, tell me, what do you expect me to do with such weak resolve?"
Seiya's chest heaved, blood staining his lips from coughing up blood.
He was trapped in this nightmare, forced to endure, but why?
Reading his thoughts, his father leaned closer, a cruel smile on his face.
"Today, the world believes you and your mother died in an 'accident' I arranged." He watched for Seiya's reaction, but his son was too broken to respond.
"Even your siblings have mourned you," he continued. "They think you're dead, Seiya—gone. Funny, isn't it?"
Seiya's thoughts drifted, muddled by pain.
What was the point in fighting anymore? If he was already dead to them, why not give in?
His father's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you thinking of giving up? Think again."
His gaze sharpened, dark and unyielding.
"If the world believes you to be dead but you aren't then what about your mother? The same goes for her. Don't you wonder where she is then?" An ear reaching smile spread across his father's face as he gazed down at Seiya with disgusting mockery.
Seiya couldn't dispute the fact that there was sense in his father's words.
How could he think of giving up when he doesn't even know where his mother was or how she was faring?
His blurred mind stilled, focusing on that single thought: Where is my mother?
"You're wondering, aren't you? So I'll tell you."
His father's tone turned almost gleeful. "She's in another lab, going through something not unlike your own experience."
Seiya's heart constricted, his thoughts reeling as he choked on his own blood. "But…she's your…"
"My wife?" his father finished, sneering.
"That hoe" He muttered under his breath, not reaching Seiya's ears.
"My wife, right! But also a mother—a role she's performed exceptionally well." His tone dripped with contempt.
"But here's your motivation, Seiya. The more you excel in these tasks, the less she suffers. Fail, and I'll double it and pass it on to her."
There was no hint of threat in his tone, just pure fact he would carry out and Seiya knew this.
Seiya felt a surge of determination, despite his broken state. He forced himself off the floor, even as blood and saliva mingled in his mouth.
"Now, where were we?" His father's mocking tone continued. "Ah, right, you lost count. Let's start again from the beginning."
Seiya pushed through, each push-up fueling him with memories of his mother's sacrifices.
When he faltered at the 23rd push-up, he gritted his teeth and started over, failing again at 18.
Over and over, he tried, each collapse met with silence from his father.
Finally, his father scoffed, watching Seiya's struggle.
"Enough. Thirty push-ups will suffice. Not to worry cause I won't carry over the punishment this time."
Seiya felt a flicker of relief, though the task still loomed like an endless mountain.
With raw persistence, Seiya completed the thirty push-ups, then collapsed onto his back, his breathing shallow and ragged.
He craved healing, water, anything to ease the agony but he dared not ask.
His father's face twisted in disdain. "A sigh of relief already? We're only just beginning. One last task, Seiya. Get up."
With sheer willpower, Seiya staggered to his feet, though each movement tore at his wound.
He couldn't stand upright because it'd stretch his wound which felt like torture to him.
His father's icy gaze didn't soften, so Seiya forced himself to stand up straight, swallowing his screams as he pressed a hand against his injury.
"It's simple. Walk from here to the other end of the room." His father gestured toward the opposite side, a distance of maybe seventy meters.
A simple feat indeed but not so simple for an injured child like Seiya.
Nonetheless, it seemed manageable, quite easy.
As Seiya took his first step, his father pulled out a gun and fired twice, two bullets ripping through Seiya's thighs.
A scream tore from Seiya's throat, his body collapsing to the floor as his father's laughter filled the room.
"There you go. Now you may start."
Seiya's vision blurred, the pain overtaking his senses as darkness crept in at the edges.
He thought of his mother, her face the only light in the haze. But his strength waned, his body giving out as he lay trembling on the floor.
His eyelids were so heavy that they close and reopen with strong effort.
His mom? What about his mom? Seiya couldn't shake off the thought of his mother as his consciousness slipped away.
Tears filled his eyes as his heart ached in guilt and pain because he just couldn't do it, not this one.
"Oh, giving up already?" His father sneered, leaning close.
"Is this all your so-called love amounts to?" He smirked, unfazed by Seiya's pain. "But I prepared an additional motivation."
He got close to Seiya and squatted again.
"Do you realize how kind you are? You're the kindest person I've ever come across that I sometimes just wonder. Kind people are easily played since they're too gullible. But no matter how kind you are, some things are just out of your hands, right? That's why I prepared another motivation aside your mother to draw out your full potential and exercise your kindness to the pitch"
With a snap of his fingers, the guard at the entrance pressed a button, revealing a large glass wall.
On the other side, a group of children, aged three to eight, stood bound to metal poles, their eyes wide with fear and silent tears.
Seiya's eyes which were shutting close, widened up as he stared dumbfounded at the kids.
His mind stilled, horror overtaking his face as he took in the sight.
"They can't see us," his father whispered, "but the guards in there can hear everything."
Peering closer, the workers did have some things strapped to their ears.
At another snap of his fingers, one of the guards raised a sword and slashed through a child's neck, head rolling and the small body crumpling—Seiya's world went numb, a frozen scream caught in his throat.