Survival in Akame ga kill.

Bane looked at his two versions. By this point, he had already vaguely guessed, without them having to say a word, that this place was not hell. 

No, this place….was something else entirely.

His aquamarine eyes drifted away from them, settling instead on the titanic, ancient tree swaying gently in this endless crimson expanse. Its massive form loomed above, its very presence exuding something both eternal and unfathomable. 

Without shifting his gaze from the enormous entity, he finally spoke.

"It's true," he admitted, his voice carrying a weight beyond simple exhaustion. "For the last seven years, I chose not to go near Liya and Ron's last resting places….Not because I didn't know where they were. Not because I didn't want to. But because I believe a filthy coward like me doesn't deserve to."

His fingers clenched slightly at his sides. "And I'm afraid," he confessed, the words feeling foreign even as they left his lips. "For twelve years, even back when I was caged in that lab—I've lived through the same nightmare over and over. I see them, I hear them, I lose them again and again. That is my actual hell. Not this place, which barely stirs my emotions."

He let out a humorless chuckle, his lips forming the ghost of a grin, but it faltered almost immediately.

"And now…" His voice dropped lower, almost as if he were afraid to say it out loud. "Now, after all these years, I can't even remember their faces anymore. I only remember their faint voices, the blurry outlines of their silhouettes."

Both versions of Leo. The child and the faceless crimson entity stared at him.

They didn't need to exchange glances.

They didn't need to say a word.

They knew him better than anyone else ever could.

They were 'him', after all.

The crimson figure scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back slightly, his eerie grin widening. "And who the hell are 'you' to decide that, huh?"

Bane turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing at his faceless counterpart.

"You really think you get to make that choice?" The crimson entity let out a dry, mocking chuckle. "*You*, of all people? The bastard who has spent his entire miserable existence carrying debts he never needed to, dragging himself through every gutter and battlefield like some damn stray dog, thinking this—" he motioned vaguely to the expanse of blood around them "—is all there is left for him?"

Bane exhaled through his nose. "Well, when you put it like that, yeah. That's exactly what I think."

The child version of him clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Man, you really are a piece of work, aren't you?"

Bane shot the younger him with a dry look. "Like you're any better? You are me, after all."

"Yeah," the boy smirked. "Just a better version of you."

Crimson 'him' let out a laugh, sharp and amused. "He's got a point. At least he still had something left to lose. You? You're just running on fumes at this point."

Bane sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, if you two are just here to roast me, at least let me sit down first. I don't think I've ever been insulted this much while standing knee-deep in blood."

"You wish that was all we were here for," Crimson Leo replied, his grin stretching unnaturally wide. "But no, we've got more important shit to talk about. Like how you're about to die for absolutely nothing."

Bane arched his brow. "And what, you think I should just drag my ugly ass back to visit their graves before I kick it?"

"Yes and no," Crimson Leo said flatly. "You'll go there if you survive the current shitshow happening outside this little metaphysical world of 'ours'."

Bane finally turned his full attention to the duo, exhaling slowly. "So this isn't hell after all."

Little Leo grinned, nodding. "Yup, fool, you sure took your time, huh? This place is an internal realm, unique to 'us', residing within our consciousness. Most people don't even have access to it like 'we' do right now."

The crimson entity gestured between himself and Little Leo. "And 'we'? We are broken spiritual cores. In layman's terms—your soul. Each of us is a fragment of you, broken apart. The 'you' standing in front of us? That's the part directly linked to the real world, the one bleeding out as we speak."

Bane ran a hand down his face, groaning. "So let me get this straight—we're all different pieces of the same soul, and somehow, I ended up in a three-way conversation with myself because of some… anomaly?"

Little Leo chuckled at his suffering. "Oh, you pitiful 'soul'. We're fragments of a single spiritual core, and because of an anomaly, we're able to talk like this. Lucky you."

Bane's gaze drifted toward the massive serpent wrapped around the crimson tree, and realization dawned on him. "And I'm guessing he's the anomaly?"

"Yup." Crimson Leo stepped closer, pointing at their chests. Thick, pulsing crimson tendrils extended from their hearts, weaving downward into the roots of the massive tree. "As you've probably figured out, that thing coiled around the physical representation of our spiritual core is none other than our dear Teigu—Jormungandr." His voice held an almost mocking reverence. "And it's not just bonding with us… it's fusing its will into our metaphysical world, slowly trying to take control of our body."

Bane absorbed the information, his expression unreadable. Instead of fear, his mind kicked into analysis mode. 'Is this normal? Does this happen to every Teigu user? Does it mean every Teigu holds the will of the creatures they were forged from? And after a while, do they eventually take over their users?'

Clearly hearing Bane's thoughts through their shared connection, Crimson Leo smirked, his gaze flickering toward the serpent before responding.

"Half right. Yes, every Teigu retains the will of its original creature. And yes, Teigu can influence their wielders over time. But you're wrong about the 'taking over' part."

Bane's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Crimson Leo extended a hand, his fingers twitching as strands of flickering energy stretched toward the tree. "You see, most Teigu replace their hosts. They don't consume them. When they fully take over, the original consciousness isn't devoured—it's shoved aside, locked away in some distant part of the metaphysical world. The Teigu then pilots the body as if nothing happened."

"But this bastard?" Crimson Leo's grin sharpened, his eyes gleaming with something predatory. "It's different. Jormungandr isn't replacing us—it's corrupting us. It's slowly devouring our essence. Instead of simply swapping out the pilot, it wants to merge completely—until there's nothing left of 'us' but a vessel for itself."

Before Bane could demand an explanation, the world around him shifted.

A low, guttural groan rumbled through the crimson expanse as if the realm itself were alive. The blood-red sky pulsed like a beating heart, and the thick liquid beneath his feet rippled outward in slow, hypnotic waves. The tree in the distance moved—not from the wind, but from something far more primal. The massive serpent wrapped around it stirred, its obsidian scales shifting like tectonic plates.

Bane's instincts flared, every nerve in his body screaming at him that something was about to change.

Crimson Leo took a casual step back, his expression unreadable. "Oh look. The bastard is angry with me."

Bane frowned, his gut twisting. "The hell does that mean—"

Crimson Leo suddenly stepped in front of him, pressing a single finger against Bane's forehead. The touch sent a shiver down his spine, an eerie sensation of something pressing into his consciousness.

"A little parting gift from me," Crimson Leo murmured, his smirk widening. "I would've loved to meet again, but this cruel world probably won't allow it."

"What?" Bane tried to step back, confusion twisting his features.

Little Leo stood beside Crimson, his own smirk matching the older one's. "You'll find out soon enough." His voice was softer, almost wistful. "Just don't forget—save our comrades, and at least visit our parents' graves before you die."

Bane opened his mouth to respond—

But before he could utter a word, the world around him collapsed.

A crimson whirlpool erupted beneath his feet, swallowing him whole.

Darkness engulfed him.

---

As the last traces of Bane disappeared into the collapsing whirlpool, the crimson world trembled, ripples of distortion spreading across the blood-red sky.

Little Leo stood silently, his small hands clenched at his sides, before he finally looked up at the faceless crimson entity. His voice was soft, hesitant.

"…Why didn't you remind him of you?"

Crimson Leo's eerie grin widened, but there was something almost… melancholic beneath it.

"Doesn't matter," he said with a casual shrug. "He's going to forget everything that happened here the moment he wakes up, anyway."

Little Leo's expression darkened. "But you don't know that for sure."

Crimson let out a low chuckle, turning his gaze toward the pulsating sky. "Oh, but I do. If my guess is right, this world itself won't allow an anomaly to retain his memories for long."

Little Leo lowered his head, his small fingers curling into fists. "I'll miss you…" he mumbled.

Crimson's grin didn't fade, but there was no humor in it. Instead, he let out a sigh and stretched his arms. "Pretty obvious, huh?"

Little Leo's lips pressed into a thin line, but before he could speak again, Crimson continued, his voice shifting—deeper, almost resonant.

"Since I've been merging with that bastard, I can finally see it—the truth behind this world."

Little Leo blinked in confusion but stayed silent, waiting.

Crimson Leo turned his gaze to the sky, his flickering tendrils pulsating with raw information. "Ragnarok," he murmured. "The end of the gods. When everything was shattered into ruin."

He exhaled, his grin faltering for the first time. "The world we know today? It's built atop the corpses of what came before. When the old gods fell, their remnants—beasts, divinities, and primordial forces were scattered across existence. Some of them merged with the land itself, becoming the foundation for this so-called 'mortal' world. But others… they didn't just fade away."

Little Leo's eyes widened slightly as Crimson continued.

"Some of them survived. Lesser than their original forms, stripped of their dominion, but still burning with divine fury. The ancestors of the Empire found these creatures fragments of fallen gods, primordial titans, and ancient horrors. And like the greedy bastards they were, they sought to harness their power."

Crimson let out a mirthless chuckle. "That's how the Teigu were born. Not just weapons, but vessels—cages for the remnants of these things. The Empire twisted their divinity, forging them into tools of war."

Little Leo swallowed. "So… every Teigu contains the will of something beyond human comprehension?"

Crimson nodded. "More than that. Each of them carries an aspect of the being they were made from. For example, that black-haired girl, Akame's sword, Murasame, isn't just a blade. It carries a 'Death Curse,' an absolute execution from the descendent of godess of death 'Hel' herself. Because the thing it was made from wielded dominion over death itself."

Crimson Leo went silent for a moment before he sighed, stepping forward and ruffling the boy's hair. "Don't worry about anything, doofus. We are the same, so just follow the plan."

Little Leo bit his lip but nodded, his small shoulders straightening with newfound resolve.

Crimson Leo smirked before finally turning toward the massive, coiling serpent wrapped around the ancient tree. The very air around it pulsed with an overwhelming, suffocating presence.

He stepped forward, his posture relaxed, his arms spread slightly, as if welcoming the inevitable.

"Well, well," he drawled, his sharp-toothed grin widening. "You really are one ugly bastard up close, huh?"

The serpent's massive form shuddered, the obsidian scales glistening as its glowing slitted eyes slowly peeled open, fixing their abyssal gaze upon him.

Crimson Leo's smirk didn't waver.

"Let's see how much of me you can actually swallow."