Humiliation

The cold wind swept leisurely through the bare trunks of the trees, swaying the long branches, the sharp peaks pointed upward, wishing they were a little closer to the sky in this prison where, in addition to the gray, lifeless world, wandered prisoners, creatures of terror, and an entity watching over everyone like a warden.

The two persons stood opposite each other.

Piles of snow fell from Morbia's shoulders as she grabbed Tron sharply by the collar, knocking him to the ground.

Tron's eyes went wide as he thrust his arms forward and did a roll, saving himself from the risk of having his face plunged into the ground.

A chuckle rang out behind him.

"Well, well, that's much better."

Morbia smirked looking at Tron, he had taken a real beating from her in the last two hours.

A frown was on his face as he once again cleaned up the trickles of blood flowing from his nose.

"Is this necessary? What are we even doing? Aren't you supposed to be teaching me how to use energy?"

Tron only had 70 hours left, no one in his place would want to waste time, not when a life full of emotions was on the line.

Throwing him a hard stare, Morbia bit down on the little finger at the far corner of her mouth.

"An hour ago I would have laughed at you, but I think you're ready now. There was no point in teaching you how to use your energy when you fight worse than I did at five. Now, you've reached my ten-year-old level, so maybe you're right."

It was a hurtful comparison, but Tron remained silent.

Brushing the dust from his lap, Tron looked around. 

A hill in an empty field, repeated piles of snow and roots poking out of the ground was all they could marvel at.

"Why are we here? Why aren't you afraid now that we might be attacked by someone?"

Curiosity - Tron would not have asked such a question before, none at all.

"I chose this hill for a reason. Those flowers."

Morbia pointed to the black flowers covering the entire hill.

"Sorrowful Riones. They only grow in places where a strong Ghost died. I was in a hurry last time since someone could chase us, but now, no one will come here. Well..."

A heavy sigh was followed by a sweep of the arm, the black cloak was tossed aside, falling to the soft snow. The next gust of wind blew in front of Morbia, her shoulders, torso, and feet were now bare, revealing tight, athletic muscles like a true warrior.

"Today you will learn how to use the Flash."

The hard stare didn't make the situation any easier for Tron. 

"Every time you make a mistake, I will beat you up. I'll make sure you don't get hurt, but you'll experience a combination of pain and anger."

Tron gave her a questioning glare.

"Flash? What is it?"

Morbia raised her hand kneading her wrist.

"Think of it as a weakened and non-unique version of the Spark. It is used by Applicants - those who haven't yet gone through the Awareness."

The Awareness was a special process for an Applicant to recognize the name of their Spark. 

"It only takes energy to use the Flash, even Void isn't necessary, so consider you have the advantage."

Snow crunched beneath Morbia's bare feet, her gaze fixed on Tron.

"If we were in a different situation, I'd show you what Flash looks like, but... my powers are sealed. You can't use your power, since you're a Half-Blank now, but you have full access to mine. Rely on your intuition."

"Intuition?"

Tron tilted his head in confusion, his mind hadn't gotten to something so complicated yet.

"Come on. Just give it a try. See if you can do it the first time."

Doubt overcame him, after all, he was born just a couple of hours ago, but he already should try to recreate something complex and unknown.

"Agh..."

With a deep sigh, Tron closed his eyes, trying to focus on the burning sensation on his wrist.

String.

A red thread emerged between them.

"Good. At least you've learned how to make contact. That's already a success, but it's not enough! Call upon the Flash! Remember that man's flaming cross and try to do something similar!"

Tremble. Tremble. Tremble.

The red thread shuddered a few times before settling down, despite the flow of energy from Morbia, nothing happened.

Morbia nodded, her eyes growing darker, full of determination.

"I see... Well, there is no other choice."

A deafening pain filled his heart with a subsequent blackness in his eyes when Morbia's fist plunged into Tron's solar plexus. 

"Gha...!"

Taking a hard gasp, Tron collapsed to one knee, not realizing what was happening to him.

The pain was all-consuming, this time it wasn't a pleasant burning sensation, but a sharp ghostly blade that pierced through his body. This was the kind of pain Tron didn't want to experience again, he wished to avoid it.

A shadow fell over Tron, with her arms crossed over her chest, Morbia towered over him.

"Go on."

The red thread shuddered, as a result, Tron fell to his knees squirming in pain from the next kick.

"I don't care if you hate me. You're my only chance to get out of here, so I'll do whatever it takes to make it happen."

...

Wisps of snow surged upwards, escaping Tron's collapsed body, Morbia pressed her foot on his back, holding his arm tightly, slowly twisting it at an unnatural angle.

Bright pain distorted Tron's face, Morbia clearly knew what she was doing.

"Is something wrong?"

Morbia looked down at him with narrowed eyes.

"You were so enthusiastic to feel new things, to feel uncharted emotions, you were glad even of the pain. But..."

Her eyes grew colder, like ancient ice that had seen much in its long existence.

"The real world isn't just something good, it's good and evil, and in my opinion, evil is far greater, you need to get used to it if you want to keep living!"

Crackle.

A loud crunch rang out, as Morbia twisted Tron's arm in a sharp motion.

"Rgh!" 

A white-hot pain raced through his entire body as if red-hot needles buried beneath his skin.

'Hm....?' Morbia raised an eyebrow.

'He didn't scream? Did he pass out from pain shock? Fuck... You pathetic, useless slug!'

"Get off me."

A hoarse voice rumbled from below, seeming to come from the depths of hell, a pit of fiery anger that no shackles could hold back anymore.

Gritting his teeth, with bloodshot eyes and swollen veins, Tron tensed his fingers, trying to lift his body with one hand, to remove the leg of his tormentor from his back.

"I SAID GET OFF ME!!!"

Tremble.

A light, frightening shiver traveled down the red thread, Morbia's green eyes reflected the flames running fast down the thread.

The black fire flashed before Morbia, tossing her aside like an empty puppet.

Morbia hit the ground several times, scratching her shoulders before crashing into a root sticking out.

It didn't take a second for Morbia to jump up on her feet. Her eyes shone with excitement, the corners of her lips slowly widening into a satisfied smirk.

Two flame rings as bracelets covered the bony wrists, flecks of black flame occasionally splitting apart, flying upward, eventually disappearing right in front of Tron's startled eyes.

He gulped.

"What is that...?"

Then, he raised his hands, looking at what was called the Flash. Those flaming bracelets didn't seem as threatening as the Spark, but... it was a power to change reality.

Step. Step. Step.

Morbia approached, fixing her eyes on Tron's Flash.

"They're black, yes? Hah... Can't say I've never seen one before, but..."

After a few moments, she continued.

"Something about your darkness is special, deep, and opaque like everything else is a dirty gray instead of black. It's a strange feeling..."

Before Tron could come to his senses, Morbia walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder with a satisfied look.

Clap.

With a muffled clap, Morbia slid Tron's arm back into place, a sharp but pleasant flash of pain spread through his body bringing in relief.

"I told you you wouldn't get hurt, no one has ever died from pain before, at least not at my hands."

Then, she walked over to the tree, without turning she waved her hand.

"Come here."

Following her was his only choice, she was the one who could tell him more secrets.

"Repeat after me. Imagine the water covering your hands, the energy flowing over your palms, and then... do this!"

Getting into a fighting stance, Morbia clenched her fist tightly, smashing into the tree. Dry bark flew away, sharp splinters whizzing by her cold cheeks.

A crack was left on the bare tree trunk, for a mere human-level physical strength, it was an extraordinary result.

"See? I know it might not work right away, but at least deliver one blow."

Morbia smirked contentedly before turning to Tron. 

'What the...' she thought.

Black flames coming from the bracelets covered Tron's arms. He breathed slowly, cold vapor passing in front of his slowly rippling hairtips.

Repeating Morbia's movements, Tron got into a clumsy fighting stance, his experience and mastery were not enough, but the desire lurking in the depths of his black eyes made him forget about flaws.

Crackle.

A fist covered in black energy crashed into the tree trunk, knocking out the wood on the other side. The bark came out last through a wide hole with blackened edges, not like from fire, but rather from a plague.

A shiver ran through her body in waves, and a forgotten delight arose deep inside her.

'Black One...'

'Unfortunate soul who was sacrificed to deceive fate... How glorious your rage will be once you learn more about yourself when you discover the truth...'