Sarugami sprinted through the control room, a smug grin plastered on his face as he scanned the buttons and levers. The fact that no one had even bothered to lock the door baffled him. "For fuck's sake, they didn't even lock it," he muttered under his breath. His eyes landed on the book perched on a nearby panel, and with a flick of his wrist, he snatched it up.

"Man, this is way too easy," he chuckled, flipping through the pages before pressing a large purple button on the control panel. Almost immediately, the tiny devices clamped around every prisoner's leg in the facility released, dropping to the floor with a soft clink. "Seriously, it's like they want me to win."

Without hesitation, Sarugami pressed the red button, and the dull hum of the cell doors sliding open echoed throughout the prison. The cameras around the room showed chaos erupting as animals poured out of their cells, clashing with the gorilla guards in a brutal brawl. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pressed the blue button next, freeing Eleo and Olorun from their chains.

"Good luck, fellas," Sarugami muttered, before noticing that the rest of his crew had already moved on without him. "Aw, hell," he groaned, bolting from the room.

---

Meanwhile, Eleo spotted an exit up ahead and shouted, "Lilith, break it down!"

Her eyes turned into hearts at his command. "Yes, my love," she purred, activating her Aura. With a mighty slam, she sent her fist crashing into the door, shattering it to pieces. The sunlight spilled in, and the fresh air hit them like a wave.

Sharky breathed it in deeply. "Man, I missed the big trees," he grinned.

Olorun stretched, finally feeling free without the weight of the chains. "We may not have been in there long, but it sure as hell feels good to be free." As he spoke, the last of the chains on him and Eleo fell to the ground with a metallic clang. "Finally, we can use our abilities."

Before they could celebrate any further, a sharp, whiplike sound snapped through the air—a tongue with razor-sharp blades on it shot out, stopping just an inch from Olorun's face. His eyes widened as he stared at the tongue, glistening with deadly intent.

From above, a voice spoke. "Where do you guys think you're going?" Johnny Good-Day, the gecko-man, smirked from his perch in the tall trees, his long, bladed tongue retracted back into his mouth.

Eleo's eyes narrowing as he sized up the new threat. "Great. Just what we needed." As the group caught their breath after their brief taste of freedom, Tony looked down at his bony hands, flexing his skeletal fingers. There was no flesh to feel the cool air, but he sensed it, nonetheless—a strange tingling sensation. “For some reason, I can use my ability now,” he muttered, his hollow eye sockets narrowing as though contemplating. “Must’ve been the damn chain. That’s why I couldn’t fight back and so I shall be the one to beat Johnny.”

Sharky snorted, raising a brow. “By yourself? You sure you can handle that?”

Tony turned toward him, his skull unmoving, but a dark aura pulsed around him. “Yes. I’ll be the judge of that.”

Eleo stepped forward, laying a hand on Tony’s shoulder, despite the lack of muscle or skin. “Good luck, Bone Man. Just... don’t die out there. You’re more fragile than most of us.”

Tony chuckled, the sound an eerie, hollow rasp. “I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse.”

Olorun, calm as ever, nodded solemnly. “Take care, brother.”

With a wave, Tony began to walk away from the group, his bones clicking softly with each step. Lilith called after him, her tone flippant yet somehow sincere. “Try not to die, sir.”

He didn’t turn around but gave a final, bone-chilling laugh. “Like I said... I won’t.”

---

Johnny Good-Day watched from the canopy above, licking his bladed tongue in anticipation. He saw Tony approach and grinned, his reptilian eyes narrowing. “Oh no, you don’t!” he hissed, his bladed tongue whipping out with deadly speed, aimed directly at Tony.

But before the tongue could strike, Tony’s skeletal form blinked out of existence, reappearing mid-air in a swirl of shadowy smoke. In an instant, he grabbed Johnny’s tongue with his bony hand, ignoring the razor-sharp edges that would’ve shredded normal flesh. Tony grinned darkly, yanking Johnny from the trees and slamming him into the ground below.

The impact sent dust flying, and Johnny gasped, winded, though not fully defeated. Before he could react, Tony’s hands began to glow with a sickly green light, his fingers hovering just above Johnny’s chest.

Necrotic Grasp.

A cold, dark energy flowed from Tony’s hands, sapping Johnny’s strength, slowly withering his muscles. Johnny's eyes widened as he felt his vitality being pulled from him, pain shooting through his body. It wasn’t an immediate, fiery kind of pain, but rather an exhausting, consuming one, as if his very soul was being drained.

“What... what are you doing to me?” Johnny gasped, trying to wrestle free from the skeleton’s grip, but his movements were sluggish, weakening by the second.

Tony’s hollow sockets gleamed with a malicious light. “I’m draining your strength, Johnny. Bit by bit, I’m taking everything you have.” His skeletal fingers twitched as he pushed more necrotic energy into Johnny’s body. “And when I’ve taken enough... I’ll kill you myself.”

Johnny’s smirk faltered, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “You think you’ve already won?” he rasped, even as his strength faded. “Look behind you.”

Tony frowned. Without releasing his grip, he glanced over his shoulder, and there—just behind him—stood a familiar figure. His brother. Alive.

The sight stunned Tony. His brother, the one he had lost long ago, stood there, eyes full of sorrow. “Brother?” Tony whispered, disbelief flooding through his voice. His bony hand trembled, loosening its hold on Johnny.

Before Tony could speak, the air grew colder, and the jungle around them faded into an eerie shadowland. From the thick darkness, a familiar, haunting voice cut through the air.

“Have you forgotten me, my love?”

Tony’s skull snapped around, and there she was—Lady Death herself, stepping out from the shadows. Her form was beautiful, yet terrible, draped in black robes that seemed to absorb all light. Her gaze was cold and piercing as she looked directly into the void of Tony’s eyes.

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“Lady Death...” Tony’s voice wavered. For the first time in a long while, uncertainty gripped him.

“You’ve turned away from me, Tony,” Lady Death said, her voice soft but cutting, like a dagger of ice. “Have you forgotten the bond we share? The promises you made?”

Tony’s knees nearly buckled. “N-No,” he stammered, “of course not, Lady Death... I would never...”

But before he could say more, another figure emerged from the shadows. His mother.

Her skeletal form hovered before him, the remnants of her flesh torn and decayed. “And what about me?” her voice echoed in Tony’s skull, ringing with both sorrow and accusation. “You killed me, Tony. For her. For Lady Death.”

Tony recoiled, stepping back instinctively, his fingers losing their grip on Johnny entirely. “No, Mom... it wasn’t like that... I didn’t have a choice...”

“You murdered me,” she hissed, her bony finger pointing at him. “You chose her over your own family!”

Suddenly, his father appeared beside her, his skeletal form crumbling with decay. “You betrayed us,” his voice was cold, distant. “You traded your family for power. For what? This?”

Tony felt a wave of nausea, though he had no stomach to twist. His mind swirled with doubt and guilt, the weight of their accusations crushing his very soul.

And then, as if the final blow, his little brother appeared. Small, fragile, and broken.

“You promised we’d always be together,” the boy whispered, his voice carrying more pain than all the others combined. “But you chose her instead.”

Tony’s entire body—though it was just bone—felt heavy. He stumbled back, falling to his knees as the spectral images of his family closed in. His voice shook as he reached out toward his brother. “No... please... I didn’t mean to... I didn’t want this...”

Lady Death, her cold gaze never leaving him, knelt beside Tony, placing a hand on his skull. “It’s time to choose, Tony,” she whispered, her voice alluring yet deadly. “Will you stay with me... or will you cling to these delusions of redemption?”

Johnny, still lying on the ground, weakened but watching, managed a weak chuckle. “What’ll it be, Bone Man?” he rasped, his voice laced with mockery. “You can’t run from death... or from your past.”

Tony’s hands trembled. His grip on reality, his confidence, all of it was slipping. The guilt, the sorrow, the weight of every life he had taken—all of it c

rashed down on him in an unstoppable wave. Even as a skeleton, he felt the crushing burden of what he had done, what he had become. The skeletal figures of his family stared at him, accusing, unforgiving.

In that moment, Tony was lost.

As Tony knelt there, the weight of his past crimes pressing down on him, something inside him snapped. A dark, hollow laugh echoed from deep within his chest, reverberating through the empty jungle air.

"Hahaha... hahahaha!" His cackle grew louder, more menacing, until it shook the very air around him. His skeletal form rose from the ground, towering over the fading images of his family. “You think I care about you?” Tony spat, his voice sharp and dripping with contempt.

The apparitions of his family stood frozen, their faces etched in disbelief.

“I don’t give a damn about any of you!” Tony’s voice thundered, reverberating through the empty spaces of his skull. “What I did... I’d do it again! Over and over and over!” His bony fingers clenched into fists as the dark aura surrounding him pulsed with power. “I chose this. And I don’t regret it.”

As if on command, the spectral figures of his family began to dissolve, melting into the shadows that had birthed them. They faded away, powerless against Tony’s newfound resolve. The guilt, the sorrow—they were nothing. Just illusions, shackles from a past he no longer cared for.

Johnny Good-Day, still weakened and trembling, watched in horror as Tony turned toward him, his skeletal face twisted into a grin far too wide, too unnatural.

"W-wait," Johnny stammered, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry! Please! I’ll never do this again. I’ll leave! I swear! Just—just let me go!”

Tony’s glowing eye sockets flared as he regarded Johnny with cold amusement. “Mr. Johnny,” Tony said, stepping forward, his voice low and dangerous. “I am the judge... and I sentence you to death.”

Johnny’s heart nearly stopped. Without thinking, he turned and ran, his body trembling as he stumbled over the jungle roots and vines, desperate to escape. His mind raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins as panic overtook him.

But no matter how fast he ran, Tony was always there. As Johnny glanced to his left, his heart stopped—Tony was there, sprinting alongside him, his skeletal form effortlessly keeping pace. Johnny’s breath hitched as he looked to his right—there Tony was again, grinning that menacing, skull-like grin, mocking him with every step.

The jungle seemed to close in around him, the once open paths now twisted and labyrinthine, as if the world itself was warping to toy with him. Johnny’s heart pounded in his chest as he stumbled again, his foot catching on a root, sending him tumbling to the ground. He scrambled back to his feet, panting heavily, his body shaking from both exhaustion and fear.

As he looked ahead, he saw Tony standing at the edge of the path, completely still, his empty eye sockets gleaming with that eerie glow. Johnny froze for a moment, unsure of what to do.

And then Tony moved—so fast that Johnny barely registered it. The skeleton blurred through the air, appearing directly in front of him, blocking his escape. Johnny gasped, stumbling backward, tripping over his own feet as he frantically tried to back away.

Tony tilted his head, almost playfully, and took a slow, deliberate step toward him.

“Running?” Tony’s voice was a cold whisper, filled with dark amusement. “Where do you think you’re going, Johnny?”

Johnny turned and bolted in the opposite direction, his legs screaming in protest as he pushed himself beyond his limits. The jungle was a blur of green and brown as he sprinted, desperate to escape the monster that pursued him. But no matter how fast he ran, Tony was always there. Every time Johnny glanced back, Tony was closer, appearing out of thin air, his skeletal fingers reaching toward him, grasping at the air just inches from Johnny’s neck.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Tony whispered, his voice like a chilling breeze that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Don’t you want to play?”

Johnny stumbled again, falling to the ground in a heap. He gasped for air, his chest heaving, his mind clouded with fear. He could feel Tony’s presence closing in, the cold, unfeeling gaze of his empty eye sockets watching him, waiting for him to move.

As Johnny staggered to his feet once more, Tony appeared right in front of him, mere inches away. “Boo,” Tony whispered mockingly, his bony fingers brushing against Johnny’s cheek as if to taunt him.

Johnny let out a choked scream, throwing himself backward in sheer terror. His eyes darted frantically, searching for any way to escape, but it was no use. Every time he thought he had found a way out, Tony was already there, waiting for him, grinning that wide, toothy grin.

“You’re not leaving, Johnny,” Tony’s voice echoed through the jungle. “Not until I’m done with you.”

Johnny’s breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted through the trees, his mind spiraling into a pit of despair. There was no escape. Tony was everywhere—like death itself, an inevitable force that could not be outrun.

In his desperation, Johnny tried to climb one of the trees, but as soon as his fingers touched the bark, Tony appeared above him, hanging upside down from a branch, his eye sockets glowing with eerie amusement. “Going somewhere?”

Johnny screamed, losing his grip and falling back to the ground with a painful thud. He rolled over, his body trembling, his mind racing. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t outrun Tony.

The skeleton’s slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the jungle, sending shivers down Johnny’s spine. Tony was toying with him, dragging out the chase, savoring every moment of Johnny’s terror.

“Come on, Johnny,” Tony’s voice echoed from behind a nearby tree. “Where’s all that confidence now?”

Johnny stumbled forward, barely able to stay on his feet. Every breath felt like fire in his lungs. His legs burned with exhaustion, but he couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not until he had no other choice.

As he pushed through a thick patch of vines, Tony materialized right in front of him, “Gotcha.”

Johnny’s heart leaped into his throat as he twisted to the side, barely avoiding Tony’s grasp. He stumbled away, tears of terror streaming down his face, his body trembling uncontrollably.

But no matter how hard he fought, no matter how fast he ran, Tony was always there, just a step behind, just a breath away. And Johnny knew—deep down—that there was no escape.

There never had been. Tony stood there, his skeletal form trembling as he looked at Johnny with an intensity that sent chills through the air. The jungle was silent, the wind still, as if nature itself was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come.

“I wanted to reject it,” Tony muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. His empty eye sockets flickered with a strange light, a mix of sorrow and something darker. “I wanted to believe I wasn’t this... but I am.” He lifted his hands, his bony fingers clenching into fists as he stared at them. “I’m death.”

Johnny, still stumbling, his body weak from the chase, looked at Tony, confusion and terror etched across his face. His breaths were ragged, his mind struggling to process Tony’s words.

“I-I don’t understand,” Johnny stammered, his voice shaking. He tried to slow down, his legs barely able to hold him up anymore. But Tony... Tony was relentless.

"But none of that matters now," Tony continued, his voice growing stronger, more resolute. His skeletal face twisted into a haunting smile, a mixture of pain and determination. “Because I’m going to kill you, Johnny. No matter what you do. If I let you go, I’ll kill you. Change your name, change your identity, turn into a good guy—none of that matters. I’ll still kill you.”

Johnny’s eyes widened in sheer terror. He wanted to run again, to do anything to escape, but his legs refused to move. Every fiber of his being was frozen in fear, paralyzed by Tony’s words.

In a blur of movement, Tony lunged forward, his bony hand shooting out with deadly precision. Death Grip.

Tony’s skeletal fingers latched onto Johnny’s throat with terrifying force, his grip cold and unyielding. Johnny choked, his eyes bulging as he clawed desperately at Tony’s hand, trying in vain to break free. But it was no use. Tony’s grip was like iron, nearly unbreakable, and the pressure on Johnny’s windpipe grew unbearable.

Johnny’s vision blurred as he gasped for air, his body convulsing as he struggled against Tony’s hold. But Tony showed no mercy. His fingers tightened, the crushing force dislocating bones, snapping cartilage, until finally—

CRACK.

Johnny’s body went limp in Tony’s grasp, his last breath escaping in a final, desperate gurgle.

Tony held him there for a moment, his skeletal face unreadable, before he gently let Johnny’s lifeless body drop to the ground.

The jungle was silent once more.

Tony stood there, staring at his hands, his body trembling. His eye sockets, once glowing with an eerie light, dimmed. Slowly, his head tilted upward, his gaze turning to the sky. His chest rattled with a sound that was neither laughter nor sobs, but a haunting mix of both.

"I’m sorry..." he whispered, the words barely escaping his bony jaw. His voice cracked as the emotions he had buried for so long came flooding back. “I’m sorry, my family... I’m sorry...”

The tears—if Tony could still cry—were not of joy, but of anguish. He raised his hands to the sky, as though reaching for something far beyond his grasp, and yelled into the night. “I’M SORRY!”

His voice echoed through the jungle, haunting, reverberating, and then... silence.

Tony stood alone, his skeletal frame illuminated by the moonlight, a grim figure of death and sorrow. The judge, the executioner, the reaper... yet all he felt was loss.