Lost In One Piece

3. Torture session

Since being branded by the Celestial Dragons, Gojo endured daily torture at their hands. Each session was more brutal than the last—physical pain, injections of strange substances into his body to test his reactions, pushing him to the brink. Yet, despite the torment, he never gave up.

Even when his body was weakened and barely able to move, Gojo refused to let them break his spirit. He always found a way to fight back, even if it was just through words. His sharp tongue, laced with sarcasm and defiance, became his weapon.

The door to the chamber creaked open, jolting Gojo's senses back into focus. Two guards entered, grabbing him roughly by the arms and hauling him to his feet. His legs buckled under his weight, but the guards dragged him through the winding corridors regardless.

They entered a grand chamber, far more imposing than the holding cell. At the far end of the room, perched on a throne resembling a coiled dragon, sat the Celestial Dragon. His eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as Gojo was dragged before him.

"Ah, my favorite little lamb," the Dragon cooed. "I trust you've had some time to reflect on your situation?"

Gojo, dropped to his knees before the throne, managed a wry smile despite his exhaustion. "Reflect? Yeah, I've been thinking... you really need better interior design. Dragons everywhere? Bit much, don't you think?"

The Dragon's eyes narrowed slightly, his amusement tempered by irritation. "Still that sharp tongue, even now? I must say, I admire your spirit... though it's a pity you don't know when to shut up."

Gojo, ignoring the sting in his back, pushed himse

"You think this will make me submit?" he would say, his voice hoarse but unyielding. "Inject me with whatever you want, torture me however you like, but I will never bow to you."

Every insult he threw at them, every bit of resistance, was his way of reclaiming power. The Celestial Dragons might have had control over his body, but they would never have control over his mind or spirit.

"No matter what you do," he would whisper through the pain, "I will never forget. I will get stronger, and one day, you'll all pay for this."

lf to ask the question that had been gnawing at him. "Why do you do this? What's your goal? What do you gain from torturing humans?"

The Dragon leaned back, a twisted grin forming on his lips. "Ah, questions from the lamb. Why? What a naïve inquiry. It's not about gaining anything tangible. This is about the pure, unadulterated joy of exercising our right as gods over those who crawl beneath us."

"Gods? You're just men in fancy clothes," Gojo spat, his voice strained but defiant.

The Dragon chuckled, the sound cold and devoid of any true amusement. "And yet, here you are, on your knees before me. Gods are defined not by what they are, but by what they can do. We can do anything. We hold life and death in our hands. Isn't that what makes us gods?"

"Sounds more like cowardice to me," Gojo shot back. "You hide behind your power and your title, lording over people who can't fight back. If you were really so mighty, you'd face someone like me at my full strength."

"Full strength?" The Dragon's eyes glittered with malice. "You speak as if that makes any difference. Here, in this world, your strength is meaningless. You're nothing but a broken tool now, and tools serve their purpose until they're discarded."

Gojo's fists clenched, but he forced himself to stay calm. "You keep talking about how powerful you are, but why do you care so much about breaking me? Why waste so much time and effort on one person? What makes me so special?"