Chapter 40 - Pilse Arc
The man to be Sonny’s escort introduces himself as they step through the gates.
“Name’s Rosco,” he says. “Follow me and we will see if our leader likes you.”
Sonny gives a small nod and follows.
Inside, the compound opens into a large U-shaped structure with a wide courtyard at its center. Two annex buildings sit off to the side, likely barracks.
What Sonny sees as they walk through the courtyard twists something deep in his chest. Cages line the open space filled with men, women, and children. Some sit slumped against the bars, barely conscious. Lips cracked. Eyes hollow. Their skin clings to bone like they have been starved for days. Maybe longer. Others are dragged out for their turn.
One man is chained to the ground as three Antis pour water over him, forcing him to drink until he chokes. When he vomits, they laugh and start again.
Another is strung up against a wooden post. Knives are embedded in him at random, scattered across his arms, legs, and torso. Not deep enough to kill. Just enough to hurt. One of the Antis steps back, flicks another blade, and drives it into the man’s shoulder. The man screams.
“Missed his heart again,” someone jokes.
A group nearby surrounds a young woman. They pull at her hair, laughing as she flinches. One grips her chin and forces her to look up.
“Smile,” he says. “You’re lucky we like you.”
She doesn’t respond. He strikes her hard. She falls, and they drag her back up by her arms like it’s routine.
Not far from them, a corpse lies face down in the dirt. No one touches it. No one acknowledges it. It’s left there like a warning.
Rosco speaks casually as they walk.
“This is where most members hangs out,” he says. “Train. Blow off steam.”
The air reeks of rot and burned flesh.
A fire user across the courtyard raises a hand and launches a flame toward the corpse. It hits. The body ignites.
A group nearby erupts in cheers. “Nice shot!”
Coins exchange hands between them. A bet.
Sonny says nothing and reacts to nothing. He just observes.
Nearby, a servant stumbles while carrying supplies. He bumps into one of the Antis.
That’s enough.
Three of them grab him and throw him to the ground. They begin kicking. Ribs crack. Breathing breaks. The man tries to shield his head, but it only makes them hit harder.
“Get up,” one of them sneers. “You still owe us work.”
The man doesn’t move, so they continue his beating.
Across the yard, the same young woman from before is dragged away toward one of the annex buildings. Two men follow behind her, laughing quietly to themselves.
Sonny’s eyes track the movement for half a second. Then forward again. Rosco watches him carefully. Waiting. Looking for any reaction.
Sonny’s expression does not change.
“Appreciate the tour,” Sonny says evenly.
Rosco smirks a little. “You settling in already?”
“I was right. This place does seem like fun.”
Rosco gestures loosely. “Oh? You want in on anything? Plenty to go around.”
Sonny flicks his wrist and summons a kunai.
He nods toward the man pinned to the wall.
“Think I can hit that man’s left foot from here with this blade?”
Rosco grins. “You’re on.”
They stand at a distance. Too far for most to land cleanly. And a bad angle at the targeted foot. Sonny raises his arm and throws. The kunai whistles through the air. It sinks straight through the man’s left foot. The scream is immediate. Raw.
Rosco laughs, impressed. “Not too shabby.”
They keep walking.
“How many members do you have?” Sonny asks.
“Almost a hundred,” Rosco replies. “More are recruited with each village visit.”
Sonny processes that. One hundred. So many variables to account for. Ideally he would get them all congregated in a single area.
Inside the main structure, the air doesn’t improve. If anything, it’s worse. The building is run-down, filthy, stripped of whatever dignity it once had. But the size and design make it obvious this used to be a wealthy estate. Now it’s something entirely different. Something broken.
They move through corridors filled with noise. Crying. Shouting. Laughter that never sounds normal.
In one room, a man kneels with his arms stretched out, forced to hold heavy weights. Every time his arms drop, someone shocks him with magic.
In another, two Antis argue over a slave like property.
“She’s mine,” one says.
“You already broke two this week,” the other replies.
“Then I’ll break a third.”
Sonny keeps walking. In his mind, he counts. Forty. At least forty slaves so far. Probably more.
They reach a set of large, decorated doors.
Rosco pushes them open.
Inside is a wide chamber, arranged like a throne room. One girl stands in the corner, no older than fifteen. Her head is down. Her whole body trembles.
At the center of the room, four Antis surround a man tied to a table. His hand is stretched out. They’re playing a game. A blade moves quickly between his fingers. Back and forth. Back and forth. Each miss draws laughter. Each near-hit makes the man flinch harder. His other hand hangs uselessly. Already ruined from the game. Punctured over and over until it barely resembles a hand anymore. The blade slips. This time, it doesn’t stop between the fingers. It drives straight through the middle finger. The man screams and the group bursts into laughter. The one holding the blade stands up. His back is turned to Sonny.
“Seems like you all are having fun?” Rosco calls out.
The man groans. “Are you interrupting me?”
“I am, but you’ll want to see what I’ve come with.”
The man turns. Sonny knows this is Ruin. Even without doing anything, something about him feels wrong. His presence is heavy. Suffocating. Annoyed energy rolls off him like heat.
“Well then, this better be worth it,” Ruin says.
Rosco gestures to Sonny. “This man wants to join Anti Society.”
Ruin sighs, irritated. His magic pressure rises slightly, and the room seems to tighten.
Before anything else is said, Ruin grabs the slave’s arm. With one motion, he slices the hand off. The screaming spikes. Then it stops.
“He’s useless now,” Ruin mutters.
He glances at the others. “Finish him off.”
They don’t hesitate. Blades. Magic. The man is torn apart in seconds. His body is dragged and thrown into the center of the room. Blood spreads slowly across the floor.
Ruin gestures lazily toward the girl in the corner. “Clean it.”
She moves instantly. Tears fall and her body trembles, but she doesn’t make a sound.
Sonny watches her for a brief moment. Then looks back to Ruin.
“Step forward,” Ruin says.
Sonny takes a few steps towards Ruin.
Ruin pulls out a small device and points it at him.
Nothing happens.
“Hm,” Ruin hums. “This little device here detects magic. Helps us find our recruits.”
He gives a devilish smirk in Sonny direction. “We break them once we find them. Makes loyalty easier.”
His eyes squint. “Seems you don’t have any magic ability.”
“Nor can I use energy. I am an ether user,” Sonny replies.
Ruin bursts into laughter.
“Strong and ether do not belong in the same sentence," he says between breaths.
“I guess we could use a healer though.”
“I can heal,” Sonny says. “But I am trained to kill.”
Ruin’s smile sharpens. “Prove it.”
The Sonny standing in front of Ruin vanishes in smoke.
A blade appears at Ruin’s neck from behind. Another Sonny appears like he materialized out of thin air.
The room freezes. Ruin… grins.
“Well this was certainly unexpected,” he claims.
Sonny speaks calmly. “I made a clone while everyone’s back was turned to me.”
Ruin starts clapping. “I like this guy,” he says. “You think ahead.”
He leans back into his seat. “You can join. But first… initiation.”
He points toward the girl cleaning the blood. “Kill her.”
Sonny pauses.
Then speaks. “I’m aiming higher.”
Ruin raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t want to be another body here,” Sonny says. “I want to be the number two of Anti Society. I want rank.”
That gets a laugh from everyone in the room.
“Then you must kill him,” Ruin says, pointing at Rosco. “He’s my current right hand man.”
Sonny nods.
“Let everyone watch,” he adds. “Make it a spectacle. I want them to know and respect me.”
Ruin grins wider. “I love it,” he says. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a good death match.”
He stands. “The match will take place in two hours in the training room.”
Sonny and Rosco both acknowledge Ruin’s match request.
“May I take the girl to pass the time until the match?” Sonny asks calmly.
Ruin smirks. “She’s all yours. There is a room down the hall you can use. No one will bother you there.”
Sonny walks over and grabs her arm. She screams. Struggles. He drags her out anyway.
Inside the room, Sonny shuts the door. She fights him until he sets her down.
“Stop,” he says quietly.
He raises a finger to his lips. She freezes. Still shaking.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“…Lela.”
He kneels to her level. “The man murdered in the room. You knew him?”
She nods. Tears continue to fall.
“My cousin.”
Sonny lowers his gaze briefly. “How long have you been here?”
“About a month.”
He nods.
“I’m getting you out,” he says. “All of you.”
She doesn’t respond. She just stares at him, unsure if it’s real.
“We have two hours. Tell me everything,” Sonny continues. “Layout. Members. Anything you know.”
He leans forward slightly. “I need details.”
