The professor and Madara made their way through the entire academy and soon found themselves before massive metal gates. Usually, these gates were locked to prevent invasions by nightmarish creatures, but thanks to the professor, they were able to pass through without hindrance. The professor showed the guard a pass and briefly informed him that Uchiha was with him. The gates opened, and they stepped out into a grim, desolate city.
Madara had been outside the academy before, but back then, he had been accompanied by two attendants. Now, he was alone in this world, and even his cold, proud heart couldn't help but feel the weight of the surrounding darkness. The city was vast, but its grandeur lay not in its size. The soot-covered stone buildings, winding streets dimly lit by flickering lanterns, and the constant hum of machines powered by electricity—all of it was alien to him. In his world, there were no such cities, only small villages scattered across wastelands. But here, everything was different. And this "difference" was steeped in decay and despair.
Madara, however, did not allow himself to be swayed by impressions. His cold, calculating mind was already analyzing everything around him. He memorized the route, assessed the weak points in the city's defenses, and sought opportunities for manipulation. Electricity, which powered this world, was an intriguing mystery to him. In his world, lightning was a weapon, but here it had been transformed into a source of energy. It was... curious. But no more than that. His goal was higher than mere understanding of technology. He yearned to regain his former strength, and this world, with all its filth and corruption, was merely a tool in his hands.
They reached a club called "The Apple." The professor handed something to the bouncer, who glanced at Madara and nodded. Before entering, Madara pulled a porcelain mask over his face, concealing his features. He had no need to be recognized. Inside the club, he was met with stifling heat, blinding flashes of light, and loud, senseless music. A crowd of people, lost in the chaos, thrashed about to rhythms that seemed to Madara like the screams of madness.
He despised them. Each one was weak, each willing to sell their soul for a moment of pleasure. But he showed no emotion. His face remained calm, almost indifferent. He was a master of deception, and nothing could unsettle him. Or so it seemed.
A girl with heavy makeup and a provocative outfit approached him. She ran a finger through his hair, offering to "relax." At that moment, Madara felt rage boiling within him. He imagined her body writhing in agony, her screams filling the air. But he simply smiled politely and declined. She walked away, pouting, while he continued on his path, maintaining an outward calm but burning with anger inside.
They passed through several rooms filled with drunken, frenzied people until they reached a door guarded by two thugs. Madara looked at them with contempt. They weren't even awakened. Just weaklings pretending to be strong. The professor handed one of them a golden card, and they were allowed through.
Beyond the door, they entered an empty corridor, followed by a steel gate. Madara was growing impatient. All these doors, all these precautions... They meant nothing. Nothing could stop someone who possessed true power.
When they entered, Madara found himself at the top of an underground coliseum. Below, on the arena floor, two men were beating each other while the crowd around them roared, placing bets. The stench of cigarettes, cheap alcohol, and sweat filled the air. Madara looked down with cold disdain. These people were nothing more than animals, thirsting for blood.
The professor led him to a man in a black suit.
"I want to introduce a fighter," he said.
The man looked at Madara with a sneer.
"Is he awakened?"
"Yes," the professor nodded.
"Does he have weapons?"
Madara silently drew two daggers.
"Good. The rules are simple: try not to kill your opponent. And take off your jacket—you need to be bare-chested in the arena."
Madara nodded, removed his jacket, revealing a torso adorned with a serpent tattoo that stretched from his hip to his wrist. He was led into the arena, where a giant man with a fang-shaped sword awaited him. The crowd roared, craving blood.
"And now, our new contender—the Serpent!" the announcer shouted. "Can he defeat Fang, who has ten consecutive wins? Place your bets! The fight begins in one minute!"
Madara stood calmly, holding his daggers behind his back. His opponent tried to intimidate him, but this only amused Madara. He looked at him as if he were prey, soon to be torn apart.
"Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Fight!"
Fang charged forward, sword in hand. Madara effortlessly dodged the strikes, studying his opponent's movements. He was in no hurry. He wanted to savor this. After fifteen minutes, Fang began to tire, but Madara knew it was a ruse. He decided to play along. Pretending to attack, he leaped at Fang, but at the last moment, he sidestepped, landing on the edge of the sword. With lightning speed, he drove his daggers into Fang's eyes, killing him instantly.
The crowd erupted in cheers, but Madara paid them no mind. He looked down at the body of his enemy, feeling a flame ignite within him. This was only the first step. He would reclaim his strength, and this entire world would burn at his feet.
[You have killed an Awakened human, Fang.]
Fuck, I'm ashamed. It turned out really cool, of course, but I didn't mean to make Madara and the whole world so cruel. If you like it, let me know, but if you think it's too bloody, then I'll try to make everything more lively and fun. And again, fuck, I'm ashamed.