Forged In Blood

The instructor's voice roared, dragging the pit into a tense stillness. The moment stretched unnaturally long, the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. This wasn't just about survival anymore. My choice in the pit would set the foundation for who I would become in this brutal world.

I could have chosen another way by avoided Alex, attacking others, or fighting defensively. Instead, something primal stirred within me, clawing its way to the surface. If I wanted to thrive here, I couldn't just survive. I had to dominate.

My feet moved before I could fully process the decision. They carried me forward with startling precision, weaving through the chaos as if my body had become a finely tuned machine. Desperate cries and the sound of clashing weapons surrounded me, but I focused only on one thing.

Alex.

He turned to face me just as I closed the distance. The familiarity of his expression; a mixture of determination and hesitation, stabbed at something deep inside me. This wasn't the boy I knew. It wasn't the friend who shared my childhood or the confidant who knew my dreams. No, this was an obstacle, another opponent who stood between me and survival.

I lunged forward, driving my shoulder into his chest with enough force to send us both crashing to the ground. His breath escaped in a sharp gasp, but I didn't hesitate. My hands found his face, fingers gripping his skull as my thumbs pressed into his eyes.

He screamed, a sound so raw it silenced the chaos around us. His body bucked beneath me, his hands clawing at my arms in a desperate bid to free himself. But my grip only tightened. I bore down, the slick warmth of his blood coating my fingers as his struggles grew weaker.

When he finally went still, the world around me seemed to fade. I stared down at him, my chest heaving, and my blood-smeared hands trembling. Alex's lifeless face stared back at me, and for the briefest moment, I saw my reflection in the blood pooling beneath him. The person staring back wasn't me.

Or maybe it was.

A grin twisted its way across my face, something cruel and foreign. It wasn't triumph or joy that moved my lips, but something darker. This world had stripped away the mask I didn't know I was wearing, leaving only the bare truth behind.

The moment shattered when a hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back. I turned, my body moving on instinct, prepared to strike. But it wasn't an enemy. It was one of my teammates, his face pale and trembling as he muttered, "They're coming. We have to move."

I stood slowly, my limbs heavy with exhaustion. Around me, the pit was littered with bodies, the survivors staggering toward the edge as the instructors motioned for us to leave. My teammates lingered nearby, their eyes flicking toward me with a mixture of fear and awe.

We were herded like cattle through a narrow corridor, the distant roar of the crowd fading behind us. The guards led us to a secluded lake, its still surface reflecting the crimson sky above. The water was faintly tinged with red, a subtle reminder of the blood spilled to bring us here.

I waded in without hesitation, the icy water shocking my senses back to life. My muscles ached, and every breath felt labored, but the cold offered a fleeting sense of relief. For the first time in days, I felt something close to peace.

That peace didn't last.

"Hey, you're the beast from earlier, aren't you?"

The voice pulled me from my trance. I turned to see a boy standing a few feet away, his grin wide and unrelenting. He was well-built, with spiky hair that seemed immune to the water's weight.

He extended a hand toward me, his tone casual. "I'm Buck. And you are?"

I stared at him, debating whether to respond. What was the point? After what I'd done in the pit, what reason could he have to approach me? Still, the silence dragged on long enough that I finally answered.

"Cassian."

Buck raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. "Cassian, huh? Bit of a strange name, isn't it?"

I glared at him, wondering if I was seriously being mocked by someone named Buck.

"Pleasure to meet you, Cassian," he continued, undeterred by my cold tone.

There was something off about him. Who in their right mind would approach someone like me after witnessing what I'd done?

"So, where are you from, Cassian? I'm from Texas."

I sighed, my patience already wearing thin. "Does it matter?"

"Oh, a bit secretive, are you?" he said, chuckling as though we were having a normal conversation.

What a pain.

Buck leaned against a nearby rock, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. "You know, most people would be too scared to talk to you after that little display in the pit. But me? I think it's smart to be on the good side of the strongest guy in the room."

His words surprised me, though I didn't let it show. Buck wasn't just here to chat. He was calculating, sizing me up while pretending to be friendly.

I didn't reply, letting the silence settle between us as I turned my gaze back to the water. Buck didn't press the conversation, but I could feel his eyes on me, studying every move I made.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the lake, I couldn't shake the feeling that Buck was right about one thing. In this world, strength ruled. And if I wanted to survive, I had to become stronger than anyone else.

Even if it meant becoming something I no longer recognized.