...
The chains wrapped tighter around his wrists, cold metal biting into his skin as he pulled against them with all his might. No matter how hard he struggled, they wouldn't give. His breath came in ragged gasps, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat, tainted with fear. Shadows stretched around him, taking the shape of a cage - a cage he knew far too well:
The Arena.
The roar of the crowd echoed through the darkness,voices faceless and cruel. They chanted for blood, for the monster they believed him to be. His heart pounded in his chest, innate magic clamoring to lash out, each beat in rhythm with the distant, terrifying growl that came from the depths of the arena.
The Beast was coming.
His claws - no longer fully human - pierced through his fingertips, and the familiar, fiery ache rippled through his muscles. His back arched painfully as his wings begged to be unleashed, but the mana inhibitors placed on the chains held them down, trapping him in place. The transformation clawed at his insides, relentless, threatening to tear him apart.
Control it. Breathe. Don't let It out. But it was too late.
His vision blurred as flashes of his past flickered before him - his mother, trapped beside him, eyes wide with terror as they were thrown into the ring together. The whip cracks, the chains rattling, the shouts demanding they fight. He could still feel the weight of her hand gripping his, his voice breaking as she whispered for him to survive.
And then, the worst part: the ringmasters' laughter as he let the Beast take over. As his claws raked across flesh - his own, his opponents' - until the line between himself and the monster was gone.
"You were born for this," His voice echoed in his mind, sharp and cruel.
"You are nothing but an animal in a cage."
No, he wanted to scream, I'm not!
His chest heaved, panic rising in his throat as the chains wrapped tighter, dragging him down to his knees.
"That's where a lowly being like you should be." He sneered.
The crowd's roar grew louder, a deafening storm of hatred and hunger. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the vision of his younger self bruised and bloodied in the ring, was seared into his mind.
Suddenly, the chains snapped, and he was thrown forward into the pit of the arena. His reflection stared back at him, eyes wild, gray irises swallowed by the dark, slitted pupils of a beast. His wings erupted from his back, claws fully formed, and his control shattered.
He screamed, but it was a Beast's roar that filled the air.
...
Jae-min jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat. His breath came in harsh gasps, and for a moment, the shadows of the cage clung to him. The roar of the crowd faded, replaced by the silence of his masters estate. The sleek, modern lines of his bedroom slowly came into focus, the soft hum of the city just beyond the estate's walls grounding him back into the present.
It was just a dream.
He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. The cool air of the room, regulated by silent technology, was a far cry from the hot, blood-soaked arena of his dreams.
His hands trembled as he gripped the sheets, half-expecting to see claws still curled from the nightmare. But his fingers were human, his palms unmarked by claws. His breath, though shallow, was no longer a desperate gasp. He was no longer the boy in the ring, but the terror still lingered, always just beneath the surface. His reflection in the mirror across the room caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, he swore the beast stared back. He blinked, and it was gone.
