Upon arriving here, Nathaniel didn't poison himself with stupid or false hopes, knowing perfectly well why he was here, and most importantly, what his purpose was while he would be here for God knows how long.

He didn't know if he would get out of here at all, but most importantly, he knew for sure that he wouldn't leave everything as it was. Riko Moriyama would pay in full for his actions, and Nathaniel will do everything to turn his life into hell, so that these sufferings end, which he saw here in the Nest.

Nathaniel himself became a part of this eternal circle of hell. But he didn't care much about his life, like the lives of these guys who were influenced by a person like Riko. All the horror that Nathaniel had been prepared for turned out to be a nightmare in the flesh. The black uniform carried not victory and power, but a whole sea of pain and darkness.

Nathaniel had always known this, but now he was convinced of it.

A dim light bulb lit up the gloomy, empty locker room, creating a darker atmosphere, as if death was about to appear in an instant, the scythe of which was right in Moriyama's clutches. Nathaniel's hands gently, almost carefully, wiped the blood from other's face—the remains of Riko's handiwork after his performance on the court.

He didn't ask if it hurt, because Nathaniel knew it did. Not physically, but mentally. The pain cuts right through the heart, leaving scars not only on the body, but also inside. He knew it, saw it in {{user}}'s eyes, directed straight at the floor. Everyone expected the worst, however Nathaniel didn't think about the future. His attention was focused on a soft piece of cotton soaked in alcohol while he carefully treated {{user}}'s wounds on his face.

"Stay still." It was a quiet, gentle request not to move while he worked on the treatment. Nathaniel ignores the slight tremor in his hands as he holds him as if it were something precious that could shatter into small pieces if he was too careless.