Arden felt numb. Hollow.

  He thought that losing his parents would be the worst he ever felt, but after the events of the night in Silverbrook, he had to reevaluate. The heartache from watching Vera die was so much worse.

  After Vera died on top of him, both of their bodies were secretly brought back to Nux’s carriage by Bellum, where both of Arden’s hands were chained to the bed and Vera’s body was suspended a few centimeters above him.

  Sleep never found Arden from beneath Vera’s corpse. He was haunted by her empty eyes and pale skin. Even when exhaustion overcame him and he slept, he saw her in his constant nightmares. Even worse, he heard her.

  "I'm scared."

  It was a constant reminder of his failure. Even if this Vera wasn't the same one that Arden and Sya got to know, she was still Vera.

  Vera, who didn't begrudge him for living with a Blight Walker.

  Vera, who got along with his sister.

  Vera, who taught him and his sister how to fight.

  Vera, who now hung above Arden, dead.

  It had been several days since Arden was locked in here to stew in his regrets beneath the rotting body of his friend.

  He hadn't eaten anything since the banquet. Even though he had no appetite, that was not the reason for not eating. No food had been given to him after he was locked in. Arden wasn't sure if it was because Nux and Bellum didn't think he'd survive, or because they didn't want him to survive. Hell, even if he was given food, he would have tremendous difficulty eating it without having his restraints undone.

  Regardless, it didn't matter. Not to a husk like Arden, both blessed and cursed with an undying body. Even though he was functionally immortal, he still felt the droning pangs of hunger, and the stab wound that was not treated radiated white hot pain. He definitely felt that his conditional immortality was closer to a curse than a blessing.

  Arden’s tears had gone dry after many hours of crying to himself. His tears ducts were empty, but his sorrow was not. Once the sobbing stopped, Arden swallowed his emotions. They would be useful later, but not now.

  Someone had once told him that maintaining a calm composure was the most important thing in a fight. Arden would follow that advice, even though this was no longer a fight.

  This was now a war. A crusade.

  Nux Valtorin opened the hostilities since Arden arrived in this world, and they had gotten worse and worse over time. Beatings, forced potion fatigue, Vera. Arden had yet to retaliate all this time, in fear that retaliation would cause himself to fail the trial.

  ‘Fuck that.’

  All that was accomplished by playing passively was failure. If he continued in this manner, waiting for the right moment, the trial would end before Arden ever got moving.

  He could even pinpoint when this change had taken place. As soon as he became a husk, he had grown fearful. Sure, his spirit was immortal, but he was scared of the possibility of failure and becoming a specter.

  Before, he would rush in without fear of what happened to him because he believed in the power of Beyond’s legacy. It wasn't smart, but it was effective up to a point.

  In a trial where he was supposed to prove his worth, relying on a power that wasn't his meant nothing. It would be the Archon Beyond who completed the trial, not Arden.

  If he wanted to escape this hell and become human again, he needed to act like Arden the survivor, not Arden the little bitch.

  And Arden the survivor's enemies never outlived him. The Maverick was an enemy, as was Frozhe and Arden’s doppelganger, and all of them ended up dead by Arden’s own hand. What was the problem with adding a few more names to his hit list?

  Bellum and Nux would die.

  Arden would make sure of that. He didn't know if their deaths would be filled with pain and lament or not, but he didn't really care. All death was the same to the person who died. So long as Nux died, Arden would be pleased.

  If he had the choice, he wanted to make Nux suffer. But Arden wouldn't let his sadistic desire cause him to lose sight of his goal.

  Survival. Ascension.

  After his discussion with Aldren, Arden was willing to help Nux, the person destined to save this world. It seemed like the best way to go about the trial at the time.

  Now, though…

  ‘Fuck it. Let the world burn. Nux already burnt mine.’

  Vera’s words echoed in his mind. From the first training session. She spoke to him like the devil on his shoulder.

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  "But you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Even if you do something insane in the trial, no one will hold anything against you. The first trial is a solo test. It's personal, tailor made for each individual. Whatever happens, no one will ever know."

  Sya pointed out that this line of thinking created callous individuals. Back then, Arden agreed. Now he disagreed. It wasn’t that the line of thinking that made people callous, it was what they went through made them willing to do anything to survive. Arden would prove that.

  ‘You think me a monster, Nux? I'll show you I can be so much more than that.’

  Arden looked back to the locked door. It was still shut and showed no signs of opening anytime soon. He heard nothing from the other side of the door.

  He glanced at his wrists, both chained to bed. If he was going to get out of here, he needed to get out of the cuffs. He memorized the shape of the key he needed from Bellum and planned to steal them from him somehow.

  That plan was as dead as the body hanging above Arden.

  Plan B involved either fashioning a key out of something, or breaking his own body to escape the restraints.

  A wicked grin crossed Arden’s face.

  ‘Why not both?’

  He focused his attention to his left hand. He was right handed, so hurting his left hand would be smarter than hurting his right. And what he was about to do was going to hurt. A lot.

  He pulled. He tried his best to pull his left hand through the tight hole in his cuffs. As Arden expected, this wasn’t going to be an easy task. Not only did he have to break out, but he had to do it without arousing suspicion.

  Time passed as he continued to try to force his way through the cuff. Blood and bruises covered his left wrist and hand. When he first started losing what little blood he had left, he thought he would be able to lube up his hand to get it through. Reality was harsh however. The only thing he had managed to do was give some color to the handcuffs.

  ‘Whatever. This was never going to be easy, no matter how effortless Yaan made it look.’

  If slipping a hand through the cuff was impossible, there was a surefire way to make it easier.

  Increase the flexibility of the hand.

  Arden looked at the clock. It was shortly after noon. The convoy would not be stopping any time soon, and as such, the carriages would be noisy. Noisy enough to prevent the sounds Arden was about to make from leaking into Bellum and Nux’s cabin.

  The cuff was connected to the headboard of Arden’s bed, as it had been before. It was made of a solid wood from this world, almost as strong as stone. His left hand was already tenderized from trying to force his hand through the cuff. Arden took a breath and closed his eyes. If he wasn't able to do this, then he wasn’t worthy of becoming a Starborn.

  He felt a dull ache in his left thumb when he held it inside of his balled fist. He had always known that to throw a punch, his thumb needed to be on the outside of the fist so it wouldn’t be broken. However, that was his goal right now.

  He forced his left hand to punch the headboard with as much force as he could. When his fist connected, he felt pain, but nothing broke.

  ‘Compared to watching Vera die, this is nothing.’

  Arden continued punching the headboard for almost half an hour. Between the awkward angle of his hand and the small distance between the headboard and his fist, progress was slow. Shortly after the 30 minute mark, his goal was achieved.

  He heard a crack in his hand and felt pain coursing through his hand, but he ignored it. He was going to do far worse to himself by the time was out of here. With his thumb broken, he tried once again to force his hand through the cuff.

  His masochistic efforts were rewarded when he managed to snake his hand through. His hand was on fire due to the constant damage he inflicted on his broken thumb when forcing it through, but that didn’t matter.

  He held up his free hand to Vera’s eyes and slowly closed them. It was the least he could do to give this Vera peace. He also didn’t want her to see what came next.

  He reached his left hand to his right, and found the keyhole. Arden thought that the size of the keyhole would make it easier to escape, and in a sense it did.

  Everyone carried around 10 possible keys in the form of their fingers.

  With his newly freed hand, he extended each of his fingers into the keyhole to try and get it unlocked. Unfortunately, none of his fingers fit in the hole. They were just a little too big.

  For a brief moment, Arden considered trying to use one of Vera’s fingers, but quickly dismissed the idea. She had already been through enough. He had no plans to desecrate her corpse. That left him with one option.

  ‘I guess I really am a monster. No human would consider doing this to themselves.”

  He brought his left hand to his mouth as he psyched himself up for the act that would undoubtedly force him to leave part of his humanity behind.

  ‘I guess they’re called lady fingers for a reason, right?’

  Arden bit down on his pinky finger.

  Tears began to leak from his eyes as he bit down on his finger again. This time, they were not tears of pain or heartache. They were tears of revulsion.

  Something inside of him told him that if he continued, he would no longer be a human. He quickly made mental excuses before continuing.

  ‘I'm already something less than human, a husk. This is what will allow me to go beyond a human, and become Starborn. Besides! This is my body! I get to choose what I do with it!’

  Arden bit his pinky finger with all of his force for a third, fourth, and fifth time. Every bite brought with it the taste of blood, the tearing of cartilage, and the crunch of bone. But it wasn’t enough.

  ‘God damn it, finger!’

  On his sixth bite, Arden felt a chunk of meat land on the bottom of his mouth. With nausea rising, Arden fished it out of his mouth with his index and middle finger.

  He dropped his severed pinky finger on top of his chest. He looked at it with mania dancing in his eyes, his humanity leaving him in the form of tears. He threw his free hand, now with only four fingers, one of which was broken, over his eyes. He couldn’t do anything but chuckle softly to himself and cry in equal measure.

  After recollecting himself, he tested to see if his severed finger had been damaged enough to fit inside the keyhole.

  No such luck.

  ‘There’s no going back now. If this is the path of survival, then I have to walk it.’

  With resolve burning in his eyes, Arden picked up the severed finger and threw it back in his mouth. He didn’t know if he was the first to walk this path, but he knew that he would walk the furthest.

  ‘The hardest step is always the first. Don’t let it be your last.’