Kaizen woke the next day to the sound of a door being forcefully open. He did not sleep more than two hours. His body still ached from the previous test, and his wrists bore the deep red marks of the ropes. He did not move immediately. He waited until the two silent men entered.
"Up," one of them said in a flat, emotionless voice. "Severus is waiting."
Kaizen rose slowly. Every movement sent pain through his muscles. He followed them into another hall—smaller than the previous one. It contained a single table and two chairs, and in the corner, a small stove with a metal pot.
Severus sat in one of the chairs. In front of him were two plates: one held a large piece of roasted meat and fresh bread; the other was completely empty.
"Sit," Severus ordered.
Kaizen sat. He looked at the food in front of Severus, then at the empty plate before him. He said nothing.
"Today's test is hunger and memory," Severus said calmly. "You will sit here for twelve hours. I will eat slowly in front of you. You will eat nothing. You will drink only one cup of water at the sixth hour. During this time, you will answer my questions about your past. Every answer must be truthful and detailed. If you lie, refuse to answer, or beg for food… you fail."
Severus cut a piece of meat slowly, then placed it in his mouth, chewing deliberately. The smell of roasted meat filled the room.
The test began.
"Tell me about your brother, Mark."
Kaizen froze for a moment. He had not expected them to know the name. But he quickly understood—they knew much.
"Mark was three years younger than me. He entered the mine a year after I did. He was physically weak. I gave him half my bread in the first weeks. Then I stopped. Because food was scarce… and I needed it to stay alive."
"Did you feel guilt when he died?"
"I felt weight. Not guilt. Guilt is a luxury. Weight keeps you alive."
Severus continued eating slowly. Piece after piece. The smell became torture. Kaizen's stomach twisted with hunger. He was used to hunger in the mine, but this was different. This hunger was deliberate—paired with the scent of fresh food.
"Tell me about the first time you killed something inside yourself."
Kaizen was silent for a moment. Then he answered in a dry voice:
"When I refused to give Mark bread for the last time. I knew he would grow weaker. But I chose myself. That night, I felt something inside me die. I didn't cry. I just slept."
The questioning continued for hours. Severus asked about everything: the first whip strike he ever received, the men he had watched die, the dreams he had in the mine, the moments he had felt the urge to trust someone.
Each answer pulled something out of Kaizen. It felt like his skin was being stripped away slowly. Hunger intensified. Thirst burned his throat. And the memories forced him to confront who he used to be.
At the sixth hour, they gave him his single cup of water. He drank it slowly, feeling the cold liquid cut through his dry throat like a blade. He did not ask for more.
By the ninth hour, weakness began to take hold. His vision blurred. He saw Mark's face clearly before him. He heard his voice saying, "I'm hungry." Kaizen shut his eyes tightly and continued answering.
"Do you hate Silas?" Severus asked, eating the last piece of bread.
"I don't hate him. I understand him. He is a tool, like me. He fears me because he sees something in me that he cannot control."
By the eleventh hour, Kaizen was on the verge of collapse. His body trembled, his stomach clenched in sharp pain, and his mind drowned in memories of the mine. He felt a powerful urge to scream—to ask for food—to beg.
But he bit his tongue until it bled… and remained silent.
When the twelfth hour ended, Severus stood.
"The test is over."
Kaizen nearly collapsed onto the table. They gave him a small plate with a single piece of dry bread. He ate it slowly, each bite painful.
This time, Severus looked at him with greater interest.
"You did not lie. You did not beg. You did not break. You passed again. But remember—this is not victory. This is only the beginning of erosion. Each test will take a piece of you. In the end, there may not be enough left of you to remain human."
Kaizen stood with difficulty. He looked at Severus with hollow eyes.
"If that is the price… I will pay it."
Severus gave a cold smile.
"We will see. Tomorrow—a new test. The test of betrayal. Sleep now. You will need what remains of your strength."
Kaizen was taken back to his room. He lay on the bed, his body trembling from exhaustion and lingering hunger. He closed his eyes.
In the darkness, he saw Mark's face again. But this time, he felt something more.
A sense that the part of him that held "brother," "comrade," "human"… was slowly dissolving.
The ash was eating from within.
And Kaizen was letting it.