"Beat him more! The sacrifice must be broken, battered, and broken to the brink of death, or our Lord and Savior shall not accept this offering! Do you want the lord to forsake us!?"

"No, Saint Masayoshi!"

The responding cheer was met with another crack of the whip against the boy's bullied back, but the boy didn't scream. The whip bit into his skin again and again, but not a word left the boy's mouth from the onslaught.

"He won't make a sound, sir!" One of the followers guarding the cell door reported.

"Hmm." The bald-headed saint walked in front of the teen. The boy's head hung low as did his matted curls over his face. The saint roughly clutched a fistful and wanked his head up and back. He was met with the boy's sunken eyes and a trail of blood trekking down the corner of his mouth.

"Hah! The sinner has bitten his tongue to keep quiet! I think there's a quick fix to that." He dropped the boy's head, leaving it to roughly fall back to its original position. The saint motioned to his devotees. "Bring me the cloth!"

A devotee dressed in black robes carried a long white cloth. The man grabbed it, but the boy refused to pick his head up. The saint huffed. He belayed the whipper and motioned to his devotee guard that was standing on the other side of the cell who was holding a large spear to his side. The devotee came forwards and lifted the butt of the spear off the ground.

"Argh!" A sick crack echoed when the boy's knees hit the hard concrete. The gag was quickly shoved into his mouth and tied around the back of his head while he was distracted by the pain.

"Now! Recommence the preparation!" The saint stepped back to his original spot by the wall as the whipping started again. The whip cracked as it met his back, these licks harder than the last set. More skin was taken from his back and blood started to puddle beneath him. A lone tear streaked down the left side of his face.

"Stop it!" A new voice rang out. A strong burst of light exploded, blowing back and knocking everyone out besides the boy.

The light began to dim out and in his last minute of consciousness, he swears he saw a girl rushing towards him before he blacked out.

He woke up to red pillows, white sheets, and red blankets. In his half-consciousness, he could vaguely tell that he was laying face down in somebody's bed.

"Oh! You're finally awake!" He tilted his head up a little to see who spoke. A girl was sitting by his bedside. Her golden hair was tied back into two pigtails and her blue eyes were looking at him with… concern? pity? He didn't know.

"You've been in and out of it for a while. You were muttering a lot in your sleep, too." She was reaching out of his line of sight for something. He watched her warily as she lifted a glass half filled with a clear liquid. She held it out in front of him.

"Water?" The strange girl asked. He blinked. He also suddenly became very aware of how dry his throat was. His eyes elevatored from the glass in her hand to the girl's face.. He reached out for it, but then stopped half way. He rolled his shoulder back once, twice, a third time. Why wasn't his back hurting? Didn't they whip his back into oblivion?

"I healed your back while you were unconscious." She noticed him fidgeting with his back. Her face clouded over. That friendly deposition from before was replaced with furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips and clenched fists. This emotion he knew: anger.

"Those bastards! What were they planning on doing? Shredding your back until it was just a hunk of meat?!"

He didn't want to interject, but yes, he's pretty sure that's exactly what they were going to do. But why was she so angry? Don't tell him it was on his account.

"Why are you angry?" His voice was scratchy. It hurt to use it after being silent for so long. He didn't even know why he was speaking now, but somewhere deep down he wanted to hear her answer.

She whipped her head around and towards him, giving him an incredulous look. "They were torturing you mercilessly! Isn't that reason enough to be angry?"

He shrugged, and downed the rest of the water. He held it back out to her.

She stared at him for a while longer before she took the cup from him. She stood up from his bedside. "I'll send dome attendants here to help you bathe. A hot bath might help." She was on her way out the room when he decided to use his voice once more.

"Who are you?"

She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, one of her hands holding back the bangles. She smiled. It was blinding, but a good blinding. Like the sun.

"I'm Ann, goddess of flames, crossroads, witchcraft, doorways and gates."

The attendants did come, but the bath was not what he expected. Instead of an empty room with a drain and a hose, there was a large spring with a waterfall cascading water into it. The water sparkled too, like there was something magical about it. Nevertheless, it's been a while since he's taken a regular bath. It felt relaxing. Sort of.

They handed him a robe to put on before escorting him once again. He thought they'd walk him back to the room from before, but they walked right past it. Maybe they were taking him to his new cell after all.

Fully expecting to be taken underground, he wasn't prepared for the sun to hit him full force.

It was a garden. Flowers of a wide variety of colors were grown bountifully. It reminded him almost of a jungle, just with less animals and less humid weather. There was a long pool of water in the center of all the greenery. The water was a blue as the endless sky and as sparkly as the water he had bathed in. Just where was he?

They led him towards the back of the garden where there was a large gazebo decorated in sheer red cloth. The inside was lined with plush pillows and sheets. The servants left him on the steps of the grand gazebo.

'Maybe this was his new cell,' he thought as he walked the rest of the way into the structure. They most likely didn't want him to go anywhere, so he settled against the soft cushions and stared out at the garden. It was definitely a fancier cell than his last. The view was much better than wall to wall of concrete, and at least he gets to see the sun this time.

He felt himself dozing off, getting sleepier and sleepier the longer he stared at the sparkling, blue water and swaying plants. His eyes started to slowly close.

He woke up to a scarlet glow from the sunset shining through the pale, red drapes. He felt less disoriented than he did this morning. Or at least he thinks it was this morning. He's not sure how long he's been out.

He felt warm. It was new, but rather welcoming compared to the cold of his old cell. The raggedy blanket they graciously provided him didn't help in the least bit.

"I guess you were more tired than I thought."

Ann, or Goddess Ann? was back. She was sitting back on her knees inside the gazebo, but out of view where someone would have to walk inside to see her. She must have come back while he was asleep. She was smiling, but he didn't know why.

"The chefs just finished cooking. Want some dinner?"

They moved from the gazebo to the poolside. A wide array of food and treats were already laid out on a blanket for consumption. It was more food than he thinks he's seen in his entire lifetime, even before he was captured and imprisoned.

She settled down on the blanket and eventually after seeing her take a bite of the food, he cautiously sat down beside her. It took him a bit longer to break off a piece of bagel and bring it to his mouth and bite down, but in no time he was stuffing in the rest of the toasted bread. It was good. Shockingly good, in fact. It vastly beat the stale loaves of bread they used to give him.

"Here," she led a jar halfway filled with a pink substance. The label had a pink strawberry on it.

"It's strawberry jam. It was pretty popular in the last mortal city I visited."

Mortal city? "So you really are a goddess?"

"Did you think I was lying?" She asked, a small pout playing on her pink lips before they pursed as she sunk into a new thought. He was fixated on watching them as her emotions played on her face clear as day. "Although I guess that would be pretty hard to believe."

"Not really with the way you just suddenly appeared out of a burst of light and all."

"Yeah… that wasn't really subtle was it…" Ann laughed nervously. One of her hands with up to one of her pigtails to start fiddling with the end of it.

"Not at all." Akira answered before tearing off another piece of bread, forgoing the pureed strawberries in a jar. He's never really had that much of a sweet tooth, and he just graduated from eating stale bread to fresh bread. He's cautious of how much his stomach could actually take.

They ate in silence for a while, her eating more of the food than him. He had finished a helping of what Ann called porridge when set the bowl down and asked a question he's been wanting to ask since he first woke up.

"So what now?"

"Now you heal," she said, wiping the fruits' juices off of her fingers with the washcloths they graciously provided. She turned to face him directly and suddenly he was again hit with the full force of the sun.

"And I hope you'll decide to heal here, with me. It's the least I can do for all that cult has done to you."

She wanted him to stay here? With her? Looking around, he took in the place he would be staying if he took her up on her place really was beautiful, and he hasn't been mistreated while he's been here. It didn't help that the girl who was asking was the most gorgeous he's ever seen before.

"Staying here wouldn't be so bad."

And at that answer she smiled, extending her hand out for him to take. "Welcome to the Metaverse, Akira."

A Year Later…

He woke to the sun peeking from below the Earth, sunrise. A cool morning breeze swept through the gazebo, cooling his heated skin.

Akira sat up against the plush cushion, the cover sinking to his waist. A small breakfast was laid out for them at the mouth of the structure: miso soup, steamed rice, and tamagoyaki. Small and simple.

It was still all so surreal: not waking up to cultists roughly dragging him out of bed, getting waited upon, living in a paradise. A year ago he wouldn't have even dreamed of having this kind of life. He wouldn't have even thought it was possible, and would've told anyone they were crazy if they said it was so.

A leg curled tightly around his own under the covers.

"It's too early." Ann nestled closer to his back, shunning away from any light trying to interrupt her precious sleep. She always did this in the morning: refusing to leave the comfort of their little hideaway and refusing to let him leave her alone in the bed this early as well.

"Our breakfast is going to get cold, Ann." He whispered, reluctant to let go of the sleepy atmosphere, too.

Her answer was a soft murmur and tightening her arms around his waist.

"Five more minutes."

Akira sighed, but he didn't make a move to get up. He resigned to her request. He settled back against the pillows. He kept himself busy by combing his fingers through her hair. Her resulting low purr little nuzzle was coaxing him to give her ten minutes instead. He just might. The food will still be there when they wake up.