"You give color to my life, Vi." — The invincible Leo, a drunken confession.

They were supposed to be together when the ship sank.

They were supposed to fight back to back when Death came from them. Leo was supposed to be the last thing Visla saw and vice versa, a twisted fairytale with no happy endings. People like them didn't deserve happy endings and yet… Visla had always thought that as long as they went together, hell would not be as bad.

But Leo left him behind.

He chose that bitch over him.

He jumped from a building, making Visla watch and being unable to do anything but scream his name.

"This is my fault."

A voice broke into the spiral of desperation and hurt, ringing like a bell. Visla looked to the owner of the voice, turning his head so fast his neck hurt.

It was a familiar face.

One that time had made blurry as Visla hadn't expected to see again but one that sharpened as the memories surfaced. There was no way Visla could forget those purple eyes and white hair; the person who had tried to take Leo from him when they were fifteen.

Touma Carden.

It burned that he shared a surname with Leo. Same as that traitor, Jason. Fake-brothers. Trash that threw Leo's kindness to his face and spit at his feet.

'I should have killed him then.' The thought broke through him like a wave, shaking the numbness and replacing it for rage. 'This is his fault. He was the one to give the bitch the opportunity to pick Leo's interest. It was his fault Leo let me. He needs to pay. He needs to die. He needs to die. He needs to die. He need to—' 

The shifting in his position was subtle enough to get unnoticed by many, but his luck today sucked. The Blood-Hound immediately turned to glare at him, more than surely having sniffed his intentions.

Icy eyes narrowed at him and before Visla could react, the blond was over him.

The pain of a broken nose barely registered before the darkness reclaimed him.

…

They had taken Leo from him.

They had taken Leo from him.

Strays had taken Leo from him.

"They're all going to pay."  Visla sobbed, voice worn out by the screaming he had done at realizing he was alone in the street. His promise getting half-hidden by the sirens getting closer and closer.

Training kicked in and Visla staggered on his feet.

"I'll kill them all. All of them. With fire. Send them right to hell…" Visla keep whispering to himself as he walked back to their building. He would need to hit Strays hard and violently, to not give them any chance to escape.

He needed to get Leo back.

Even if it was the last thing he did.

…

Kyden's betrayal should have been obvious. They had always been jealous of how close Leo and him were. Visla should have seen it coming, true, but what blinded him was that they convinced Maren to participate.

Maren was a cold sunabitch; a capitalistic sunabitch.

From what Visla knew, the only interest Maran had was money. Creating money, spending money. All his life revolved around it. Weird, but useful. Necessary, even. At least Leo had thought so.

At the time, Visla had agreed.

Now? Now he wanted to just pop those indifferent eyes from their sockets and see first-hand how Maren looked with his expression twisted in pain. Right now Visla hated the fucker. Almost as much as he hated Touma Carden.

It was humiliating to be reminded of how at disadvantage he was when it came to the physical side of things; his stamina and strength had nothing -nothing- on the rest of executives. And while he made do with his marksmanship and wicked manage of blades, he had never been stupid enough to not be wary.

Except wary didn't cut the bar when it came to Maren's sneakiness.

Damn that cup of coffee.

Damn his belief -hope- that the other executives would see he was right in taking Strays down. They had killed their Boss! Where was the loyalty they all had vowed, huh? Nowhere to be seen, that's where.

Fuckers, all of them.

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Thump.

Visla tried his best to glance to where the noises were coming from; people landing near them could only mean trouble. By the noise, six people at the very last. The numbers are not comforting at all.

Visla narrowed his eyes as they came into his sight. The marks on their skin paint a clear picture: Kyden had allied themselves with Strays. Meaning he's been captured with the only purpose of being offered as a goodwill; a prey for a Hunt.

'Easy, easy.' Visla reminds himself. 'There's a chance to kill Touma. Right. Once the hunt starts, I— Drake? What. What is he doing here? That fucker, is he ignoring me? Are they all ignoring me? How fucking dare they! Those goddamned dogs! I will make them pay. I will make them pay. I will make them pay—!'

As often did, all rational thoughts fled Visla's mind when confronted with Drake's dismissive attitude. If this was something he couldn't bear, it was those dark eyes passing over him like he was nothing.

It brought back the years full of bitter memories when his King had barely paid attention to him, all of Leo's time and affection stolen by Drake, that rotten lizard! That dog was luckier than most and he treated Leo with open irritation, always sighing and grumbling in Leo's majestic presence, as if fulfilling the omega's wishes was a sore duty instead of an honor!

'Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him.'

A kick to his side breaks him out of his murderous thoughts.

"Do you want the honors?"

"Well, as the affected part, yes, I would like the honors." .

Visla glared at the albino with hate, vainly trying to stop himself from breathing the poison by shaking his head.

Pain flared as his blood was forced to run faster, his body heating alarmingly, breathing becoming difficult as air was too heavy and too thin at the same time. His eyes filled with tears and a scream built in his throat, only to be muffled behind the muzzle.

"There it is." Touma said, delighted.

The sadistic pleasure of seeing others suffer returning to his eyes, making him look a lot more like the demon he was in his youth instead of the lap-dog he became after his self-isolation in jail. Feeling like an idiot, Visla curses himself for thinking Touma had been tamed in the last decade.

He's now paying the price of his mistake and it burns.

Failure, the voice of his father hisses.

Incompetent. Flop. Disappointment. Not-good-enough.

Never good enough; always less.

The ropes that were tying him down fell as a knife went through them. Someone, possibly Ran, cutting them off so the Hunt would be able to properly begin.

'I'm not going to give them the satisfaction.' Visla thought fiercely as he fought to get up with trembling limbs. 'I'm not gonna run with my tail between my legs.'

"Are you not going to run?" Touma asks, disappointment written on his face. "How boring."

Visla makes sure to spit at his feet.

Touma arches an eyebrow, mocking him.

"Our turn, I guess."

Visla caughts a sudden move with the corner of his eye, shifting his own posture to defense by pure muscle-memory. Not that his slow reflex helped him much— The kick connected with his shoulder, probably missing whatever Timothy had actually aimed at, though the damage held. Visla bit his lip hard as his bones cracked.

Broken bones were not something new. In fact, they were an old acquaintance.

It didn't stop him, just as the ringing in his ears didn't.

He lashed out, aiming for Timothy's face.

'The eyes are a huge vulnerable point, in a fight against someone stronger or bigger your best chance is to incapacitate them. The eyes are the quickest and safest option if you are able to get close enough to explode it.' Leo's advice echoed in his head.

His King was never wrong, aiming for the eyes was his best shot.

He never got close enough.

A blade embedded itself right over his elbow, the pain sharp and unexpected.

Timothy stood his ground, eyes firmly fixated on Visla's. They were like a clear lake, one that boiled with hate and fury. (The expression on Timothy's face was familiar to Visla. Too familiar for it to not sting.)

"Hands off of my partner if you will." Touma sneered.

The blade was probably his.

Visla hissed, turning back at him, just to be decked by a huge fist. Blood pooled inside his mouth and for a moment, Visla could have sworn he saw stars.

"Get up." Drake ordered.

Visla's brain short-circuited at the sound of it, rage bubbling inside his veins he forced himself up and yanked the already fractured blade from his flesh. Gripping it between his fingers.

"Dog."

"Traitor." Drake returned with a sneer.

"How dare you! I'm the only one here who knows what loyalty means, you sick fucker!" Visla was the only one that never abandoned the King's side. It burned that Drake would dare to imply the opposite.

Drake flinched back and Visla was filled with satisfaction for a moment. It didn't last. Ran clipped his leg with one of his knives, making him stumble. Then the Blood-Hound was over him.

Nicolas' fighting style had always been efficient.

He hit hard, a combo of right hook, left hook and a knee to the stomach left Visla gasping for air and more than a little light-headed. He swung one or twice but always failed to connect, his limbs starting to feel like it didn't belong to him at all.

More knives made it to his body.

The Kyden siblings aim for the tender bits, choosing to graze him instead of stabbing him. Drake had bad aiming, so only one of his blades ended up buried on his stomach. Timothy had cut his face with one of his, leaving a bleeding gush from one side of his nose to his right ear. Both of Nicolas' stood proudly on his legs, making him kneel.

"Any last words?" Touma asked, playing with his remaining blade.

"Fuck. You." Visla coughed. "Fuck you for taking him from me."

Touma's eyes closed and for an instant he looked incredibly pained, then Visla blinked and the sorrow was gone, replaced by an icy fury.

"He wasn't yours." You have no right to him.

"More than any of you did." Visla returns, his fury a volcano instead of a glazier. "Especially you, White Terror."

Touma laughs, bitter and ugly.

"Is that so? Tell me, then. What's my name?"

Visla clenches his jaw and his glare gets darker.

"Carden." Touma answers his own question with a purr. "Asahi was my brother. My claim will always be stronger than yours, Visla Harn."

Visla's scream of rage is cut as his face is pushed down against the ground, getting a mouthful of dirt and choking on it.

"Leo is not the reason why you are here." Timothy hisses, pressing harder.

"You're here because you attempted against a member of our pack." Drake continues, his voice carrying strength and authority. "You've been Hunted. You've been Judged. And you've been found guilty. As the Ishmal decree, you will pay your sins with your blood; A life for a life."

"A life for a life."

Five voices echo the ritual words, solemn and grim.

"Tim." Touma said softly, lovingly. "Your shop. Your friend. Your blade."

Visla had the irrational wish to throw up. He gagged. The idea of Touma being in a happy relationship being much worse than he thought of his life getting a end sooner later; death didn't scare him. It hadn't from the moment Leo entered his life and show him what a God looked like. 

He hated himself for failing Leo but then, that wasn't new. He had always hated himself when he failed his King.

The only regret he had was not been able to take Leo's enemies down with him.

(His only comfort was that he would see Leo soon.)

His hair was pulled and Visla found himself facing the sky as something cold pressed against his throat.

'The moon looks beautiful tonight.'

Creation is hard, cheer me up by comenting!

Also, don't forget to cheeck my tiktok @lonelywritingjourney as I post a lot of things about this verse in there; things like how the character's look, info about them, sketches, and side-stories that will make it to omakes after the main story is finished.