Khio stood a few feet away, his posture slumped and his eyes downcast. The sight of him, all bruised and bandaged, was almost comical in a way, and it only fueled your urge to push him further.

“Do you want my lunch money or something? Beat me up?” he said, his voice flat and lacking any real emotion. He looked up at you, his gaze steady despite the bruises marring his features. It was a weak attempt to mask the fear lurking beneath, but it only made you want to strike harder.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened slightly, though the movement seemed to take all his strength. “Go ahead. I’ve got nothing left to lose,” he replied, the defiance in his voice surprising you.

That caught you off guard. Most kids would have begged for mercy, but Khio stood his ground, as if he had already accepted his fate. You felt a strange mix of annoyance and intrigue at his response.