When Jonas first opened his eyes, he found himself in the room of blood and shadow. There was confusion on his face, but when he saw the black figure of Pride, the situation cleared, and Jonas felt intense anger.
"Fucking asshole, what do you want? I almost died because of you. What happened to always looking out for us?" Jonas stepped forward and appeared like he wanted to punch Pride.
"Do you really need me to solve all your problems? You beat Wolf with your strength and ingenuity. I told you I wouldn't help you fix all your problems because if you rely on me too much, you'll never be a powerful Sinner. There may come a time when I'm not here to guide you, Jonas: I need to prepare you for the outside world. You had another near-death experience, and I promise you it won't be the last. So calm down, sit down, and let's chat about what happened," Pride's voice was arrogant, and he pointed toward the scarlet armchairs that overlooked the blackened sky and bloody sea. Jonas gave a menacing stare but had no retort. So, he did as Pride had suggested and sat down.
"I killed him," Jonas said after a few moments of silence. "I killed a person."
"You did, and congratulations, I might add," but seeing the disapproving look on Jonas' face, Pride added, "Don't be such a poor sport about it. I guarantee you'll have to kill dozens, maybe hundreds, if you ever want to see Drake. Hell is fucking brutal, and you've only witnessed one percent of its capability. Today is the first of many deaths caused by your hand. Puke if you need to, cry if you want to cry, but don't make the mistake of believing this is the first and only time."
"Jesus," Jonas felt instant remorse. He hated that Pride was telling the truth. Wolf was the first of many people who'd stand in his path to Drake. "Does it ever become easier?" He was referring to the empty feeling within himself like he was no longer human.
"No idea," Pride chuckled, "I'm you. I'm your feelings. You act like I've been all around Hell on some grand adventure, gathering experiences and teaching them to you. Everything I know is from you. However, I'm more clever because I have access to memories you've forgotten."
"You're such an asshole when you want to be," Jonas had almost forgotten that Pride wasn't some omnipotent figure or that he wasn't a person. Pride was nothing more than a shadow that existed in his psyche and not an independent person capable of having his own life. Jonas was still frowning because he didn't feel like he'd ever be capable of smiling again. The scene of Wolf's face split at the seams: the terror in his gray eyes, the blood leaking out of his skull, the whimper, the scream. All these visions haunted Jonas' memories, and they seemed to be burned into his retinas so that he'd see them even when he wasn't thinking about them.
"You'll feel better after a few days. Don't forget, Wolf was a bad person, and you're a good person. Don't you understand? You're the hero, and he's the villain in the way of your quest for goody-goodness. Wolf was a bully, a murderer, and a power-hungry tool-bag. Oh, and there's also the fact that he wouldn't hesitate to kill you and all your friends."
"Just stop," Jonas had enough. "I don't care. I don't want to hear it," he felt disgusted at Pride's words. Being told he was a hero after doing what he had done to Wolf made him sick to think about it. Bashing someone until their head melted wasn't a very heroic thing to do, in Jonas' opinion.
"Fine, fine," Pride sighed, "Have your angst, and you can eat it too. I'll finish by saying that this is Hell, and you did what you were supposed to do. God isn't judging you, your friends aren't judging you, and the government isn't going to have you arrested. This place isn't Earth, okay? No one gives a fuck that you killed Wolf."
Jonas didn't feel like replying, but he did think Pride had a point: no one cared that Wolf was dead, except maybe Thomas Vale, but that didn't count for much.
"So, what now?" Jonas wore a depressed expression as he looked over the bloody lake and into the black sky.
"You enjoy the fruits of your labor. Your fitness and martial arts are great, your mentality is great, and your control of Sin is good. The only thing to work on is your Original Sin which, besides healing, you've controlled a few times. I'm guessing that Howard Hurts has already trained his Original Sin, so you'll need yours if you ever want to beat him."
"My Original Sin," Jonas whispered, 'Blood."
"You've felt it, but you just haven't put the time and effort into practicing it."
"What am I supposed to do? You haven't exactly told me what I'm capable of."
"Endless possibilities, perhaps. It seems you can infuse your blood with both willpower and Sin. Would you like a suggestion?"
"Yes, please," Jonas was at a loss about what to do, and his desperation must have shown because Pride was willing to give answers.
"Have one of your fellows cut themselves, and then wipe the wound with some of your blood. Use your willpower: your love for them, and your knowledge of Sin to try and heal them. I think it's possible, but I won't guarantee it. You'll discover your limits through trial and error."
"I could use my powers to heal others?" Jonas forgot to feel angst as he was amazed at Pride's words.
"Possibly, I said. I don't want to hold your hand too much, but at least this way, you might find a starting point on how to train your Original Sin."
"I don't understand why can't you just tell me how to practice with my power. You are my power, so shouldn't you know?"
"Original Sin is something that is supposed to be free form, creative, and self-discovered. If I teach you how to use it, you'll get set in your ways too early on, and you'll have to rely on me to give you ideas on how to use it. Original is a puzzle that you need to solve on your own."
"I guess I understand," Jonas nodded, but there was still something that evaded him. "My Original Sin revolves around blood, but what that means is up to my discovery, right?"
"Exactly," Pride felt relieved that Jonas could pick Sin concepts up quickly. "Your willpower can influence your Original Sin. You can create your abilities to an extent, as nothing is set in stone until you decide how your power works."
"With that said," Jonas narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't mean I have all the decision-making when it comes to what my power will be: I can just influence it."
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"You make this journey so much easier when you aren't being naive. Thank you for listening," upon hearing Pride's words, Jonas felt a bit awkward from being praised.
"I'm ready to head back now. I'll focus on healing myself and others. Also, I'll try to think of ways to grow my Original Sin. I'm still not sure what I want to do with it, but I'll give it some thought," Jonas said, and Pride nodded in agreement.
"See you soon," Pride's voice echoed while Jonas' vision went black, and he fell asleep. Moments later, he felt a bout of pain wrack his body, and when he opened his eyes, he was in the gang infirmary.
"Jonas!” Simon was the first to notice him rise from his bed. The rest of his companions heard the shout, and they came over to have a good look at their bandaged companion, who looked like a mummy.
“Jonas,” said Johnson, “Can you talk?” Everyone wanted to know if Jonas’ healing ability could regrow body parts.
Jonas stared at them while trying to come to terms with the painful feeling in his body. He tried to open his mouth and speak, but only a strange gurgling sound came out, and his eyes went wide in shock from his inability to form words.
“Fuck!” Simon kicked the foot of a bed in frustration. “I thought it would grow back.”
“God dammit,” Johnson looked horrible. “What the fuck is he going to do without his tongue?”
“I know, right,” said Jonas, “Your sister is going to be so upset,” his voice made them jump as they turned to look at his smiling face, which was sticking a very red tongue at them—he had tricked them.
“Mother fucker!”
“Okay, easy!” Jonas conceded quickly as both Johnson and Simon made to hit him. “Fuck me, my face feels like Johnson’s after a night with Garth,” and this earned a lot of laughter from everyone, even Johnson himself.
“Always the wisecracker,” said Ahmed
“I prefer wise Caucasian, thank you very much,” Jonas laughed, and Ahmed rolled his eyes, but he wore a smirk. Noticing the bandages around his body, Jonas felt the need to inquire. “That bad?”
“Not as bad as when Garth smashed your face in,” said Simon, who had been the only one to witness that gruesome incident. “But your cheeks looked like someone had tried to drill through them.”
“And your heel had a huge hole,” said Johnson.
“The bottom of his foot,” said Pete. "That one was pretty bad."
“The big hole in his back,” Ralph crossed his massive arms and gave Jonas a thoughtful expression.
“Jesus Christ. Wolf did a number on me,” and Jonas' crew gave him odd looks. “What?”
“You turned his head into spaghetti,” said Simon. “It’s fucking disgusting. I feel bad for whoever had to clean him up.”
“He’s dead, right?” Jonas felt dumb for clarifying. “He’s not going to regenerate or anything?”
“Regenerate?” Johnson looked shocked. “He’ll be lucky to reincarnate.”
“That still boggles my mind,” said Jonas. “He’s dead, but not dead forever.”
“The slave known as Wolf is dead,” said Ahmed. “Somewhere in Hell, a person who looks just like him will appear, but anything that made Adam Reaver who he was will be gone. A different person will replace him: a new man who'll have to experience Hell as if it was his first time.”
“His memories,” Jonas asked. “Could he ever get them back?”
“From what I understand about the rules of the Overworld, which isn’t a lot,” Ahmed stroked his beard. “On the odd chance that Wolf somehow becomes a Sinner in his next life and obtains power equal to what he had previously. He may be able to get some of his memories back.”
"It's rare to get your memories back and even rarer to come across former companions and friends," Pete spoke next, and this surprised most in the room." I met someone in the past who had heard it from someone else: they'll just drop your new body off somewhere in Hell, usually far away from where you died. They want you to be a completely new person."
"Jesus," Simon shook his head. "The only way to get your memories back is to be a former Sinner, but you also need your old companions, and they need to teach you to Sin again."
"That's not even a guarantee," Johnson reminded them all, "Reincarnating without your memories sounds concrete, but the whole thing about getting the memories back—that sounds like bullshit," and Ralph nodded in agreement.
"Either way," said Simon. "There's no point worrying about that asshole anymore. If he ever gets his memories back, Jonas will be able to blow him away by that point.
“No guarantees in life,” Ahmed said. “But I think you may be right on this, Simon.”
“Anyway,” Jonas spoke while removing the blood-stained bandages. “Did you guys talk to Brow?”
“Oh, we talked to him,” said Simon. “He practically skipped out of the room while cackling like an evil villain.”
“He is an evil villain,” Jonas cringed. “He even looks like one.”
“He’s ecstatic now that you’re going to be a top-five fighter,” said Ahmed, and Jonas brightened, and a wide grin bloomed on his face.
“I’m a top-five fighter?” Jonas confirmed. “On the same level as Garth, Xiao Lin, Yuki, and you?” His crew nodded their heads.
“I can’t believe I did it,” Jonas was staring at his hands; his knuckles were still swollen and covered in blood.
“I know,” said Simon, and he sounded reminiscent. “I still remember that scrawny kid that begged to be my friend.”
“Oh, fuck,” Jonas laughed. “You wouldn’t shut up. It was either be your friend or kill myself.”
"I remember too,” said Johnson. “I was still by myself at the time; however, I always knew you’d be capable of great things the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“Oh, fuck off, Erik,” said Jonas. “You were so mad that I was getting double rations that you might as well have gone green."
“Well, it pissed me off that Simon ate great every day,” Johnson sounded defensive. “He and I were the same sizes for months until you showed up, then he started getting fat from drinking beer.”
Laughter rang through the infirmary, and it helped heal the wounds that they couldn't bandage. Soon enough, someone knocked on the door, and Brow’s voice called out for them to open. Jonas' manager faced him: Brow looked half thrilled and half scared.
“I just got news from Howard,” Brow looked like he could kiss Jonas. “Thomas is pissed, and there's a gang meeting in an hour.”
“Thomas should be pissed off,” said Jonas. “I killed his best slave.”
“Well, don’t be surprised if he asks Howard for your head,” said Brow, while wearing a crude smile. “Of course, Howard will say no because the gang’s interests always come before any one person’s feelings. He might still punish you, perhaps just tell you off."
“Scary,” said Jonas sarcastically, “How strong is Thomas, anyway?” Brow thought nothing odd of the question and answered it without care.
“He’s the second-strongest person in this complex,” said Brow. “Howard, Thomas, then Garth.”
“That’s how they manage to keep the big psycho in line,” said Jonas politely; he wished to keep Brow in a good mood. “I wonder why he’s never tried to escape?”
“Escape?” Brow looked at him stupidly. “Why would he?”
“I mean,” said Jonas. “He has the strength to get out, doesn’t he?”
“And go back to what? Here he gets to fight, fuck, eat, and drink to his heart's content, and all he has to do is beat the shit out of people every few weeks, which he loves doing. Garth isn’t dumb enough to leave all that for the uncertainty of the Overworld. At least here, he's king."
“That makes sense,” said Jonas. “I wonder about Xiao Lin. I’ve never seen him, but I heard he’s as good as Garth.”
“Nah,” said Brow. “Xiao Lin is a tough nut and a great martial artist, but his control over Sin isn’t half what Garth is capable of.”
“Wow,” said Jonas in mock surprise. He had gotten enough information and decided to change subjects. “So, when do we get our private rooms?” Brow gave a disgusting smile.
“If everything goes as planned, we'll be moving in by tonight.”