Andrew flinched the mont Raze spoke. His expression shifted wildly, first rage, then a flicker of panic, and finally a twisted, desperate resolve. His eyes darted toward their mother again, and before she could react, he lunged. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her violently to her feet and dragging her back into place with the sword pressed against her neck.
"Don’t try to play smart with !" Andrew roared, his voice cracking with fury. "I’ll cut her right now, stand down!"
Raze’s face hardened, a deep frown etching itself across his features. Seeing Andrew manhandle their mother like that left a bitter taste burning in the back of his mouth.
"Andrew," Raze said quietly, "let her go."
His tone was calm, but the weight in those words struck like a hamr. Raze’s gaze pierced straight into Andrew’s soul. For the first ti, Andrew felt like he was being stared down by sothing far beyond him, sothing ancient and terrifying.
For a mont, he wanted to step back. He wanted to drop everything and run.
What... what is this feeling? he panicked internally. How can Raze— RAZE "—make feel like this? No. Tsk. I won’t allow it. I’ll never allow it."
He forced a smile onto his shaking face.
"And what are you going to do," Andrew sneered, "if I don’t?"
"I’ll kill you," Raze said.
And he was already standing beside Andrew.
Andrew froze. Shock tore down his spine, his blood turning to ice. He hadn’t even seen Raze move.
Before a word could leave his mouth, BAM, Raze slamd the bat into his face while simultaneously prying the sword out of Andrew’s grip, ripping it away before he could hurt their mother.
Andrew stumbled back, blood pouring from his nose, eyes wide with disbelief. Their mother staggered away, finally freed, and rushed toward her husband to help untie him and Michael.
Raze kicked the sword across the floor to Andrew.
"Pick it up," he said coldly. "Defend yourself."
Andrew stared at the weapon at his feet. Sha, rage, humiliation, and hatred twisted inside him until it felt like his bones were burning. He grabbed the sword with shaking hands and rose to his feet.
"It’s either I die," Andrew snarled, "or you die today."
He lunged, screaming, bringing the sword down in a two-handed swing with everything he had. Years of training, thousands of hours spent mastering the blade, every drop of sweat, poured into that one strike.
Raze parried it like it was nothing.
His foot shot out, slamming into Andrew’s stomach and throwing him backward. Andrew staggered, disbelief shaking his entire body.
"Screw you!" he scread, rushing in again. He unleashed a storm of strikes from every angle, high, low, center. But every single attack was blocked. Effortlessly. Cleanly. As if Andrew were nothing more than a child throwing tantrum punches against an unbreakable wall.
Raze saw an opening.
CRACK.
He smashed the bat across Andrew’s jaw, splitting it and sending a shock of pain through his entire skull.
Andrew roared, the pain only fueling the fire inside him. Rage carried him forward. He attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Each ti, Raze struck him harder.
Blood sprayed across the floor as Andrew’s body shook with each blow. He refused to fall. No matter how hard Raze hit him, he forced himself up, driven by pure obsessive fury.
"WHY!?" Andrew scread, voice shredding. He swung again—missed. "WHY CAN’T I DEFEAT YOU!?"
He slashed again.
"WHY CAN’T I BE BETTER THAN MY OWN YOUNGER BROTHER!?"
Another block.
"I TRAINED DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY! I PUSHED MYSELF UNTIL MY BODY BROKE! AND ONE DAY YOU—YOU STOOD UP AND TOOK EVERYTHING I WORKED FOR! WHY!?"
His throat cracked mid-scream, tears streaming down his blood-covered face.
Raze gave no answer. His expression never changed. His silence was more painful than the blows.
Andrew saw that emotionless face and sothing inside him snapped.
"WHO ARE YOU TO TAKE AWAY MY RIGHT!?"
Clang!
"WHO ARE YOU TO REFUSE MY DESTINY!?"
At this point, he was barely human, rage and despair twisted him into sothing hollow.
Raze finally sighed, deciding Andrew had suffered enough.
He dodged the next desperate thrust, stepped in, and swung with full force.
CRACK.
The bat slamd into the side of Andrew’s head. His vision shattered. He staggered back, seeing only blurs—but his rage forced him forward again, swinging wildly at the silhouette of Raze.
Raze dodged, struck his ribs.
Then again.
And again.
Hit after hit after hit, until Andrew collapsed onto his knees, bleeding heavily, body trembling, breath shallow. He couldn’t lift his arms anymore.
Raze lifted the bat for the final strike.
But before he could swing, their mother threw herself between them, wrapping her arms around Andrew as she dropped to her knees.
"STOP! PLEASE!" she scread, her voice breaking. Tears stread down her face as she shielded Andrew with her body. "Stop... please..."
"He tried to kill you," Raze said flatly.
"I know," she sobbed, "but Andrew is still my first son. He has done wrong, I know, but he is still my son. Your brother."
Raze stared at her for several seconds. Then he exhaled and lowered the bat.
"Fine."
He looked at Andrew, bleeding in his mother’s arms.
"Mother saved you," Raze said quietly. "Even after you held a sword to her throat. These are the people you tried to hurt, Andrew. Yet even now... they’re the reason you’re alive."
Raze turned away.
But after only two steps, he saw his father’s eyes widen in horror.
Instantly, faster than thought, Raze spread out God’s Eye.
He saw it:
Andrew, barely conscious, grabbing the sword again, raising it behind their mother’s back.
Raze spun, hurling the bat with a force that split the air. It shot across the room like a hunting dart.
Just as the blade was about to pierce their mother’s skin—
BAM.
The bat slamd into Andrew’s skull, cracking the front of it and sending him flying into the wall.
He hit the wall hard and collapsed, unconscious. Blood poured from the wound, pooling beneath him, but he was, sohow, still alive.
Breathing ragged.
Barely.
But alive.
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