Survival in Akame ga kill

[Somewhere Near Pleasure District]

The aftermath of the lightning strike was pure devastation. The once ruined chapel had been obliterated from existence and was reduced to a charred, smoldering ruin. 

Splintered wood and crumbled stone were littered on the ground, the devastating force of the blast having ripped through the very foundations of the broken building. 

The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning debris, and thin trails of smoke rose lazily from the scorched earth where the lightning had seared its mark.

Even the dead bodies that once filled the old chapel were no more, as they have been vaporized by the sheer intensity of the strike. 

Nothing remained of them but faint, blackened shadows imprinted on the ground, as if they had been erased from existence. 

The once old sanctuary was now a barren waste comparable to a crumbling ruin.

At the centre of it all, where the deadly lightning had struck, was laying a charred figure. His charred body knelt in the wreckage, trembling faintly, steam rising from the seared flesh that clung to his bones. 

Most of the figure’s clothes had been reduced to a burnt, blackened husk, his skin scorched and cracked, blood oozing from the wounds that marred his frame. 

The figure was none other than Bane, who knelt on the ground as if a corpse. His mind was shrouded in darkness, his consciousness teetering on the edge of oblivion. 

Everything was muted around him, distant, as if his body no longer belonged to him. 

He struggled to breathe, but each breath felt like inhaling fire, his throat raw and burnt. 

Despite his dulled senses, his nerves still screamed in agony, making the pain feel distant and almost unreal. His vision became blurred, the world spinning and fading in and out of focus. Everything felt heavy, disconnected, as if his body was no longer his own.

Desperate to cling to whatever remained of his consciousness, he forced his tongue to move, biting down hard. The sharp, metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth, the pain slicing through the haze clouding his mind. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to regain a sliver of control.

As his vision gradually cleared, he discerned the faint shape of a towering figure standing a mere foot away. There was no need for him to question its identity.

General Budo stood before the rebel, looming over the wreckage like an unfeeling colossus surveying the aftermath of his handiwork. His armor gleamed, catching the first rays of dawn, a stark contrast to the rebel’s blackened, charred form. 

The morning light seemed to dance off the pristine metal of Budo’s armor, while the rebel remained broken and smoking at his feet, the difference between them painfully clear.

Budo didn’t move, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the ruined rebel before him, as if what lay in front of him was already a foregone conclusion.

Budo’s brown eyes, cold and detached, were fixed on the motionless rebel’s form.

Bane’s body twitched weakly, his mind clawing its way back from the edge of unconsciousness. Every fiber of his being screamed in agony, yet he held on, refusing to succumb.

His head hung low, his body slumped forward, but gradually, his dulled senses began to register the overwhelming presence looming before him.

He tried to utter something, forcing his ruined throat to produce sound, but all that came out was a raspy, strained gasp. 

“Aar...” The sound was barely audible, drowned out by the faint crackling of the flames that still licked at the surrounding debris. His voice, ravaged by the lightning’s force, was too weak to form words.

Budo’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the rebel in front of him struggle to cling to life.

“You’re still alive after that?” Budo’s deep, resonant voice broke through the silence, laced with a mix of intrigue and cold indifference. 

He took a single step forward, standing over Bane’s charred form, his armoured boots crushing the ash and debris beneath him.

“Any human would have been reduced to nothing but ash by now. But you... you not only took the full burnt and are still clinging to your life”. Budo said his tone was neither mocking nor impressed, merely stating a fact, as though observing the resilience of a particularly interesting specimen. He showed no concern, no pity, nor any sense of urgency. 

To Budo, this was nothing more than the outcome he had expected. His Teigu Adramelech was a power incarnate, and the fact that the person in front of him was even breathing after enduring its wrath only confirmed this rebel’s unnatural resilience.

Bane’s body twitched again, his vision slowly returning as his head lifted just slightly. His entire body trembled under the weight of his injuries, each movement bringing fresh waves of searing pain, but his instincts pushed him forward, forcing him to survive.

His vision, blurred and hazy, finally focused enough to make out the towering figure of General Budo, standing a mere feet away. 

The sight of that man, so immense, so impossibly powerful, sent a chill through Bane’s spine. 

He was powerless, kneeling in front of one of the Empire’s mightiest weapons, unable to defend himself or even speak.

Though feeling powerless, the weakness made him bite his tongue hard as he now understood the insurmountable gap between him and Budo.

‘Is this the end?’ The thought echoed briefly in his numb mind, but he banished it almost as quickly as it surfaced. Instead of mindlessly worrying about it, he began to analyse his body’s condition.

Despite the devastating attack, he had somehow managed to protect his vital organs, which was the only reason he was still clinging to his life. 

But it was just barely. He was unable to move even an inch because of numbness. Probably his muscles were roasted from the inside out.

Each heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer to him, which struck his chest heavily, slow, laboured, and agonising.

Bane’s skin, what remained of it, was now hauntingly scorched beyond recognition, leaving only charred and exposed muscle underneath. 

His stamina was almost on the verge of depletion, but even its last vestiges were slowly consumed by his regenerative ability. 

His regeneration, which was barely running on fumes, was working overtime just to keep his organs functioning. 

‘In short, I am completely fucked.’ he concluded bitterly. Neither does his body have any stamina left to regenerate, nor will Budo wait for him to heal.

Budo’s cold, piercing gaze remained fixed on Bane, his expression unreadable, yet his presence was suffocating. 

Finally, Budo spoke, his deep, resonant voice devoid of any warmth. “I don’t know what kind of grudge that bastard Honest has against you, but I don’t enjoy moving according to his plans,” he said, a slight edge to his tone. 

The disdain for Honest was evident in his words, a ripple of frustration breaking through his otherwise controlled demeanor. “I was summoned to the Imperial Throne Room in the middle of the night and ordered by the young emperor to come here and capture you rebels.”

Budo’s voice grew sharper, though his calm control remained. “To be honest, I wanted to obliterate you along with the other rebel quickly so I wouldn’t have to waste time following that incompetent fool’s orders to bring you to Honest. But now, since you’ve survived my attack, I have to follow through with his instructions.”

His gaze darkened, the weight of his authority pressing down even harder on Bane. “Now, quickly tell me your accomplice’s location,” Budo demanded, his voice low and filled with a quiet fury. “Otherwise, the next thing you’ll hear will be your own screams while I rip your guts out.” 

The threat, cold and menacing, hung in the air between Budo and the charred figure of Bane.

Budo, a man who had accomplished more than most could ever dream of, had once been a force to be reckoned with in the Empire. 

He had fought countless wars, led entire armies to decisive victories, and earned his place as one of the most powerful generals in the Empire’s history. His strength, wisdom, and leadership were revered across the land. 

Yet, since the death of the previous emperor, his role had been reduced to something far less.

No longer was he the guiding force of the Empire. Instead, he had become little more than a hound, leashed by a puppet emperor, a boy manipulated by that bastard Honest. It sickened him, the way the Empire had rotted from the inside.

Budo wasn’t a fool. He had always believed that a commander should stay out of politics, leaving that to the political schemers. 

But looking at the state of the Empire now, he knew he would have to intervene sooner or later. Honest’s grip on the boy emperor and the country had reached a level of corruption that was unbearable.

But that was for another time. Now, he had a task to complete.

His attention snapped back to the rebel, who knelt before him, broken but still breathing. Budo needed information, and quickly. He had no intention of dragging this out, and the other rebel still needed to be caught.

The rebel woman’s location was his priority for now, and if the person in front of him didn’t give it up willingly, Budo was more than willing to use force. 

The Empire may be rotting, but his duty, for now, remained clear.

A/N: haven’t been able to consistently write chapters because of exams and other things going on, but now I finally have some spare time I have written this chapter.

Also, I’ve got a question for you all related to the story: What do you think about Budo’s personality in Akame ga Kill? I’d love to hear your thoughts!