Beyond the Codex of Gods

Wade looked around the dimly lit room, as the floor was heated and the air was cold. There was also a special mist that started to be slowly released through the walls.

'Is this Espher?' Wade approached the holes in the wall, as he waved his hand around.

'This is no different from air…' he wondered how it was even possible to absorb it.

Wade then approached a tray of black balls that had a note laying on it.

'Edible pills, consume once a day.'

He then went to the corner to pick up one of the stacked futons and place it in the center of the room.

Wade then sat cross-legged and began his meditation, coupled with a common breathing exercise.

Hours passed in absolute silence, as Wade gradually cleared his mind of all distractions.

The biggest of them was the scene of him getting tortured and his Uncle's emotionless eyes. Whenever he remembered, phantom pain would spread all across his body, resetting the process of meditation altogether.

This was incredibly frustrating to him, as he started lashing out with martial arts moves whenever his rage peaked.

The cycle repeated countless times. Whenever he tried to concentrate, those memories would resurface and uncontained rage would erupt once again, as he performed his martial moves to a thousand percent ferocity.

He became like a wild beast that only thought to inflict pain on others, just to ease his own. But there was nobody to harm and he still had a bit of himself left in those rage sessions to not punch and kick the walls with full force. It wasn't because he was afraid of harming himself, but destroying the equipment as well as his image of a tactful youth.

Wade knew that Marcus was watching him from somewhere. However, even if he knew that there were eyes currently on him, he couldn't lessen the intensity of his rage and the beast-like style of his martial arts, no matter how many cycles passed. In contrast, the fits of rage were getting longer and more uncontrollable.

At some point, he no longer cared about anyone watching, as he decided to release all his hatred in his styles, to subdue the hatred and to sprout unyielding determination.

—--

Back at their table, Marcus was leisurely drinking wine, as he expressionlessly watched Wade repeatedly crash out on a floating orb that projected screens. His thoughts were unreadable, as if he was just spending his free time watching a movie.

However, his thoughts about Wade were different.

'The child who saw blood and gore of his loved ones. The pain and screams of the family's kids. The loss and resignation of reliable adults…will he be able to stand tall again? Will he be able to cleanse the demons from his heart? Or at least to suppress them?'

Through his interactions with this new Wade Frostwalker, Marcus understood that he had become a totally different person.

The kid before the massacre was like any other wastrel: indulging in the wealth and power of his family. Many like him being content with their life and having no desire to become Rankers.

However, this kid with amnesia seemed to become entirely different, as even his martial arts transitioned from being graceful on his first cycle, to bestial by the tenth.

Marcus read the other screen adjacent to the one showing Wade crash out, as he read all the intelligence gathered about him.

However, this description didn't differ in anything, being a standard aristocratic personality. It didn't match at all with Wade that Marcus now came to understand through their conversations, as if two absolute polar opposites.

'Could amnesia really rewrite one's personality? If so, I hope Wade matures with his current one, rather than his past.' Marcus wished, oblivious to the fact that he had already forged a perfect alibi for Wade, ready to be delivered to the headmaster.

—--

Weeks passed as the cycles continued.

Each last of them became longer and more impactful. The latter fits of rage no longer ended with Wade's mind calming down, but with him being knocked unconscious from exhaustion, as he was forced to consume the pills.

Wade could no longer think clearly, as his mind was marred with endless hatred and scars that streaked all across his body.

His body was no longer in optimal shape, bruises and cuts were everywhere.

He moved so much that the skin on his palms and feet were torn under ceaseless friction, as his body's regeneration failed to keep up, resulting in each twitch of his muscles and every breath he took to feel like he was submerged in a pool of broken glass.

His eyes no longer held calmness, turning bestial and bloodshot. His mouth foamed as if he had rabies. Many of his nails were long gone, making for an uncanny sight.

In retrospect, Wade was gone, replaced with an empty shell of rage and hatred that was like an ever-burning torch.

However, in this madness and darkness, there was still a spark left unextinguished, as Wade's mind desperately tried to restore itself.

But it proved incredibly hard, as memories kept streaming in, pushing him deeper into the quagmire of suffering.

"Enough!" Wade roared, tears of blood streaming down his face, as he banged on the floor with his bloodied fists.

His breathing was ragged, his face pale. Yet, he once again managed to regain himself.

However, this time it was different. This time he wasn't letting his emotions overtake his rationality. He wasn't going to let himself become a prisoner of his bad experiences. No matter how bad it was or how much worse it could get. He will retain control over himself. He wasn't a beast…

"I am Wade."