Throughout almost his entire adolescent life Jonas had always found his memories to be strange and abnormal, but at the time he had no explanation for it, and he was given the same answer from his brother every time he asked, that the false memories were due to childhood trauma.

“Drake and I,” Jonas whispered, “Where the hell did we come from?”

“Two mysterious boys with tremendous powers of Sin, suddenly materializing out of thin air?” Pride smirked, “Where do you think that they came from?” Although the thought had crossed his mind, Jonas wasn’t prepared to say it out loud.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to say we came from Hell,” Jonas rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” Pride stretched his hands innocently, he also had glowing crosses on the back of them, “All I’m saying is that the only people who can talk to their powers as you are doing now are Hellites.”

“I’m a Hellite?” Jonas was baffled, “I highly doubt that.”

“Doubt it all you want, Jonas, but that’s the conclusion that I was able to come to after seeing that first memory. You and Drake were not born on Earth as you previously thought, but instead were born in Hell, and sent to Earth to live among the mortals.”

“You realize that sounds crazy, right?”

“Drake had a seal too, Jonas,” Pride argued, “What are the odds that two mysterious children both have seals to hide their powers. You know Drake better than anyone else, does that monster seem like a normal human being?” and Jonas was forced to consider.

“Sure, he’s a bit odd,” Jonas conceded, “But that doesn’t mean he’s from Hell.”

“Think about all your experiences since you entered Hell, Jonas,” Pride sighed, “The food, the drinks, the air you breathed, the woman you fucked, haven’t you felt strangely wholesome ever since you got down here and started interacting with the environment?”

“I, uh,” Jonas tried to say but then the memories of his time at the Glatorius mansion resurfaced, and he recalled seeing an unfamiliar version of himself in the mirror, one that had been glowing with vigor and health.

“See,” Pride said as if he could read Jonas’ mind, “You realized it too, that you’ve changed ever since you got here, even your personality.”

“People change when they’re in Hell,” Jonas argued, “That doesn't mean there is some conspiracy behind their origins.”

“You naive little boy,” Pride said, “Stop running away from the truth that you’ve sought after for so long, embrace it, Jonas.”

“Fine,” Jonas said rather angrily, “Let’s just say that I am a Hellite who was born in Hell but sent to Earth. Why would my parents do that to me?” Jonas soon had a spurt of anxiety as he tried to recall the faces of his parents, and realized he couldn’t, “Who are Jack and Theresa Ariel?” He strained his mind as hard as he could, but nothing came to him, only shadowy figures.

“Theresa and Jack Ariel?” Pride chuckled, “They aren’t real. They never existed in the first place,” and Jonas bit his lip as his stomach began to feel extremely nauseous.

“Not real?” Jonas asked, “Then who are our parents?”

“No idea,” said Pride, “I just know that those two parents that you thought you knew, they are definitely a figment of your imagination, or perhaps they were also planted there by the person who likes to fuck with us,” and Jonas used two hands to cover his mouth as he bent over and began fighting the urge to be sick.

“God?” he whispered, “Is that who you speak of?”

“God wouldn’t take the time to screw with us,” Pride laughed, “And if he did, it wouldn’t have been done so sloppily.”

“I don’t understand, why do you say it was sloppy?”

“I awoke once before this, Jonas,” Pride explained, “When you were little, the seal slipped and I woke up, and I was given a chance to understand the situation around us, even though you couldn’t understand.”

“What happened to you then?”

“I was resealed,” Pride said simply, “I don’t remember the act itself, but I do know that one moment I was awake and well, and the next I was back asleep. I say that they did a sloppy job because I shouldn’t have been able to wake up in the first place, it should have been when you died and went to Hell that I first awoke.”

“So many questions,” Jonas whispered, “Who am I really, and what is the purpose of the one who manipulates us?”

“All will soon be revealed,” Pride said rather darkly, “We are just a puppet in his game, and eventually the truth will be revealed. This I know.”

“So what now?” Jonas scoffed, “I’m on death’s bed anyway, what am I supposed to do?”

“We aren’t dying today,” Pride smiled, “I’ll make sure of it. You just need to focus on training your Sin Scars and building up your power.”

“I’m not dying?” and for the first time that entire conversation, Jonas felt hope.

“Not at all,” Pride chuckled, “That pitiful oaf Garth thinks he did quite the number on you, but his knowledge of Sin is amateurish at best, and his brutality is childish. I would never let us die to such a pathetic opponent. However,” Pride seemed to be glaring at Jonas, “Do not think to rely on me every time you get yourself into a sticky situation. I am a manifestation of your powers, not some all-knowing deity that can perform miracles with the snap of my fingers. You need to tread somewhat carefully, at least until our Sin reveals itself fully, and we can experience our Original Sin.”

“What is an Original Sin? If I have such great power, why have the Sin Scars taken so long to appear?”

“So long?” Pride’s voice sounded strange, “This is considered extremely fast, even by the standards of those genius Hellites, and the reason they appeared now is that you finally embraced your Cardinal Sin in a meaningful way.”

“What do you mean?”

“You declined Garth’s proposal, even though it would mean certain death. You chose your Pride over your life, and that is why they appeared. They approve of your attitude.”

“Well I wasn’t going to suck his dick,” Jonas rolled his eyes,” You still haven’t answered my question about the Original Sin thing,”

“An Original Sin isn’t something you need to worry about at the moment. Focus on learning to use Sin in a meaningful way, learn to feel it, harness it, and understand its nature. When your Sin Scars glow brightly, and when you’ve finally mastered the basics, you’ll understand what an Original Sin is.”

“Can’t you tell me how to use Sin?” Jonas wasn’t ready to walk away without answers after finally getting so close, “What am I supposed to do?”

“I told you already, you need to use Sin in a meaningful way. Learn to feel it, and understand its nature, and when your Sin Scars glow, you’ll know you’re on the right path. Sin is a journey that one must experience themselves, it doesn’t do well to hear second-hand accounts on how to Sin.”

“Fine. How do you plan on healing us?” Jonas wasn’t happy with being told he had to wait for answers, but part of him had started to trust the process and to trust Pride.

“By using the power we were privileged to be born with,” Pride said, “I’ll use it to heal you, but you need to focus.”

“Focus on what?”

“Healing yourself,” Pride said, “You need to envision it in your mind, and you need to desire it in your heart. If you truly want to come back to the land of the living, you need to believe that you can make it possible. I need you to show some confidence in your potential, and also show your desire to live,” and perhaps he had subconsciously envisioned it, but Jonas began imagining a broken and bloodied body lying still on the floor of a metal cage, “Envision the wounds, and then imagine them being closed shut as if they were being sewed back together.”

Jonas did as he was told and he imagined long bloody gashes on his broken nose that were slowly melding back together, as well as picturing his crushed skull slowly rising back up like a loaf of cooked bread. He imagined hammering his smashed and fragmented bones, rebuilt even stronger than before, just like the lacerated skin of his body that was slowly being sewn shut. He felt like his body was growing warm, and that warmth eventually began to turn to heat as he felt like his entire person was slowly increasing in temperature. He wanted to live, he wanted to find his brother, and his tears were evidence enough that he wanted to continue his crusade.

“Almost there!” Pride shouted, “Keep going, embrace the pain, and don’t just ignore it!” Jonas swore as he tried to concentrate on following orders, but the pain became worse as he felt the intense heat spread to the rest of his body, and a feeling like drill bits digging into his bones began to bombard him.

‘Is this the pain I’m experiencing in the outside world?’ Jonas felt like crying but he didn’t have any tears left, and a part of him wanted to stop the process and beg Pride to stop healing him or to just simply take a break, “Come on!” Jonas opened his mouth and he yelled at Pride, egging him on, and in return, the pain spread across his body like a million stabbing needles and it felt like even his soul was on fire, “Ah!” he screamed out loud as his eyes bulged and he felt every cell in his body rupture in protest.

Jonas felt his mind slowly melting away, and his pain-wracked body felt like it was being sucked through a tube, and then his once still body began to stir.

“Jonas!” Simon’s voice rang out, “Can you hear me?” Jonas was lying in a puddle of blood but if one examined him closely they would notice that the wounds were gone, “Holy fuck, he’s alive!” Simon couldn’t help but whoop as he punched the air and stared incredulously at the once near-dead young man who had slowly begun to awaken.

A nearby guard had noticed Jonas and nearly shit himself, and when the initial shock was over, he quickly ran from the slave room and pelted out of sight, presumably to find Brow.

‘I’m back,’ Jonas’ thoughts were plagued by a menacing headache, but as soon as he opened his eyes and saw that familiar prison room around himself, he knew that he had survived his ordeal. He tried to move but nearly cried out as it felt like his body had been hit by a truck, so instead of moving, he laid motionlessly on the cold iron floor of his cage.

“How the fuck did you do it?” Simon was still calling out and although Jonas was extremely touched by the concern, he also wished he could have a few minutes of silence to collect his thoughts.

“Not dead, yet,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“No shit,” said Simon who was wiping sweat from his forehead, “Your fucking skull was bashed in, and now you’re talking to me,” and no one in the room had been given a better view of the revival process than Simon himself who had been close enough to see chunks of brain matter.

“That bad?” Jonas moaned as he tried his best to not ask Simon to shut up.

“Bad doesn’t even begin to describe it,” said Simon, “Brow is going to be thrilled.”

“Thrilled?” Jonas was curious, “Does he like his slaves that much?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Simon said, “He thinks you have the potential to be a fighter. If I’m not mistaken,” he added as he lowered his voice, “I think Brow is going to have you switch to a different fighter, someone he trusts not to kill you.”

“Why?” Jonas asked although he wasn’t going to complain about the fact he would never have to take another beating from Garth.

“Once Brow thinks you have value, he’ll try his best to keep you alive. That guy loves two things in this world. Money and power, he knows a good fighting slave can bring him both.”

Jonas slowly moved his arm and began gingerly touching the various places of his body, and after a full inspection, he was incredibly surprised to find that nothing seemed to be too badly damaged besides some obvious bruising. His hand felt the back of his head, and although it felt raw and painful to the touch, he noticed that his skull was intact and it seemed as if he wasn’t missing any hair or teeth either.

“How long have I been out?” Jonas had felt no sense of time while he was in the room of blood.

“Eight fucking hours,” said Simon, “It took only eight hours for you to come back from the dead, how did you do it? No one can heal that quickly, not even with Hell’s accelerated healing.”

“Pretty cool,” said Jonas dully as he gently raised himself and propped his back against the iron bars, “I’ll explain things, very soon.”

“Pretty cool?” Simon was indignant, “Do you know how many people there are who wished they could heal like that?”

“Do you think the guards would bring me some beers if I asked them nicely?” Jonas changed the subject, there seemed to be a confidant swagger to his words that hadn’t been there before.

“You win a fight, or two,” said Simon, “You can have anything you want,” and at that moment, they both could hear an iron door crashing open, and hurried footsteps followed right after.

“You’re alive,” said Brow through huffed breaths, while his eagle-like eyes examined Jonas’ newly healed body, “I Don’t know how you pulled through, but you did, and now you belong to me. How did you do it?”

“Brow,” Jonas raised an eyebrow, “Go fuck yourself, prick,” and there was absolute silence as Brow, Simon, and the nearest slaves all looked like they had been slapped across the face.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Brow slowly fumbled with the harness to his metal rod, he was absolutely going to beat Jonas.

“I said,” Jonas raised his two middle fingers, revealing two dimly glowing crosses tattooed on the back of his hands, “Go fuck yourself, prick,” and Brow’s face experienced a multitude of changes as he felt extreme shock, anger, and excitement all at once.

“Pride, you’re a Crusader,” things had started to click for Brow, who momentarily forgot his composure, “You’re a Sinner, but you're so young, how long have you been in Hell?” Simon also looked a bit surprised, but there was an innocent curiosity in his eyes as he stared at Jonas’ Sin Scars, unlike Brow’s expression that was filled with both greed and envy.

“First of all,” Jonas wore a confident grin, “I’m eighteen, and I’ve only been in Hell for less than two weeks. Secondly, I am a Sinner, and I was able to come back from the dead because I unlocked my powers,” and he thought about mentioning the fact that he might be a Hellite, but his anxiety told him to avoid topics that might kill his flow. He didn’t want to think about the fact that his parents weren’t real, and his life was a lie. He hadn’t accepted it yet.

“Less than two weeks,” Brow had never heard such a thing, “That’s impossible, absolutely against all logic, it breaks the rules of Sin.”

“Fuck the rules of Sin,” Jonas began to stretch, “I want new rules. For starters, I’m going to train under a new fighter from now on,” and for a moment, it seemed like Brows' instincts as both a bully and a slaver were going to kick in. Jonas was surprised when the eagle-eyed gangster replied much more respectfully.

“Things have changed, you’re right,” Brow agreed, “I’ll assign you to Ahmed, the same fighter as your dear friend Simon, how does that sound?”

“That’s a start,” Jonas nodded and gave a modest expression, “Now let’s talk about my benefits.”

“Benefits?” and Brow began to cackle loudly, “I’ll give you a few weeks to prove yourself, and if you manage to impress me I’ll give you some benefits,” and his upper lip curved revealing sharp teeth as he added, “Disappoint me and I’ll let Garth skull-fuck your brain until all you can think about is dying.”