I Gained An Ability While Surfing On The Dark Web

Roi lunged.

His grip tightened around Black Ruin, the massive blade slicing through the air as he aimed for his father's chest.

But the attack never landed.

Before the blade could connect—his father spoke.

"You never finish anything, Roi."

Roi's breath caught.

His father's voice was exactly as he remembered it. Cold. Heavy. Drenched in disappointment.

The hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second—but it was enough.

CLANG!

His father raised his chains, catching the blade mid-swing. The impact rattled Roi's arms, sending a jolt of pain up to his shoulders.

His mother's voice followed, soft, almost sad.

"This is what you've become? Killing your own parents? Is that what streaming taught you?"

Roi's stomach twisted.

He forced himself to push forward, using Phantom Dash to reposition. He reappeared behind them, swinging the blade in a wide arc—

Only for his mother's shadows to block the strike.

The smoke twisted violently, deflecting his attack before lashing out, wrapping around his wrist like cold iron.

"You were supposed to be better than this," his father muttered, his red eyes flickering.

Roi gritted his teeth, yanking himself free.

"You're not real," he spat, forcing himself to attack again.

But as he charged, his father's voice slammed into him like a punch to the gut.

"You're a failure, Roi."

The words stopped him cold.

His chest tightened.

A memory surged forward—unbidden, unwanted.

His father's back turned to him, standing in the doorway of their home.

The weight of his duffel bag on his shoulder.

The raw feeling in his throat from yelling, from fighting.

"You think playing video games all day is a life? You think streaming makes you a man? You're a joke, Roi. You'll never be anything."

I left that behind. I don't care anymore.

I don't—

"Why are you hesitating?" Kyler's voice cut through the fog of memories.

Roi's breath was shaky.

His mother stepped closer.

Her hand reached toward his cheek—but instead of a strike, it was gentle. Just like before, when she used to hold his face when he was a kid.

"You were such a bright boy," she whispered.

"Where did he go?"

Roi's fingers trembled.

His father raised his chains.

His mother's shadows coiled tighter.

His heart screamed at him to fight.

But his hands—they wouldn't move.

And he was running out of time.

Roi stood frozen, his breath sharp and uneven.

His father's chains rattled, his mother's shadows coiling tighter around him.

They weren't attacking yet.

They were waiting.

Waiting for him to give in.

His grip on Black Ruin wavered. The blade felt heavier in his hands. The weight of it—of what he had to do—was pressing down on him like a crushing force.

"You were supposed to make something of yourself," his father continued, stepping forward. "Instead, you locked yourself in a tiny apartment, wasting away in front of a screen."

Roi's chest tightened.

"You don't understand," he hissed, but his voice lacked fire.

His father's eyes flashed.

"Then make me understand."

His mother's voice followed, softer—but no less cruel.

"You could've been great, Roi. You could've finished school. Had a real life. A real future."

Her shadows tightened around his arms.

"Instead, you chose this."

The words sank into him like claws.

The old wounds ripped open.

I made my choice.

I don't regret it.

I don't—

His father's chains snapped forward.

Roi barely managed to move before they slammed into his side, sending him crashing against the floor. Pain exploded through his ribs, knocking the breath out of him.

He gasped, forcing himself to his knees.

But his father didn't move in to finish him.

Neither did his mother.

They just stood there, waiting. Watching.

Like they knew he couldn't do it.

Like they knew he wouldn't fight back.

His father tilted his head.

"Look at you."

His voice wasn't angry.

It was worse.

It was disappointed.

"Pathetic. Just like the day you walked out that door."

Roi's vision blurred.

His fingers trembled around Black Ruin.

The sword wasn't moving.

His body wasn't moving.

His parents took another step forward.

And for the first time since the trial started—Roi felt like a child again.

Small. Weak. Helpless.

I can't.

I can't do it.

And his parents knew it.

Kyler's voice cut through the thick, suffocating air.

"You're proving my point, Roi."

His tone was mocking, but underneath, there was something else.

Something dangerous.

"You had sympathy for a faceless man, but now it's your parents, and you're completely useless."

Roi didn't answer.

He couldn't.

His father raised the chains again.

His mother's shadows darkened.

And Roi—he didn't move.

He just stood there, waiting for the hit.

Because deep down, some part of him believed it.

That he deserved this.

Roi stood paralyzed, his hands clutching Black Ruin, but his body refusing to move. His parents didn't rush him—they didn't need to. They had already won.

"Come on, son. Fight back." His father taunted, his voice mocking.

His mother took a step closer, her shadows slithering along the floor like snakes.

"Or are you still that scared little boy? The one who ran away instead of facing his failures?"

This isn't real.

They aren't real.

This is just another trial.

But why did it feel so real? Why did his father's words still sting like they did years ago?

Roi's grip tightened, his knuckles turning white. Move, damn it. MOVE.

Kyler sighed loudly, breaking the tension like a needle popping a balloon.

"God, this is just sad."

He took a seat on a floating neon chair that materialized out of nowhere, looking bored out of his mind.

"At this rate, we're going to be here all day. I might as well order popcorn."

Roi's mother turned to Kyler, her shadowy tendrils flickering.

"This doesn't concern you."

Kyler snorted. "Oh, it does. This idiot is wasting my time."

He turned back to Roi, grinning.

"Hey, remember that one time you streamed yourself eating expired chips for money?"

Roi snapped his head up, horrified.

"Kyler, shut the hell up."

His father's chains paused. His mother's shadows halted.

"Oh? You never told them?" Kyler mocked, eyes gleaming. "Yeah, your dear son here once did a live stream where he ate year-old chips because some guy in chat donated ten bucks."

"KYLER."

"And guess what? He still failed the challenge because he threw up five minutes later."

"SHUT. UP."

His parents stared at him.

Roi felt his soul leave his body.

"...Is that true?" his father asked.

"That's not important right now!"

Kyler laughed.

"Oh, but it is. Because you're supposed to be some badass dark web survivor, yet here you are—still the same dumbass who almost died eating moldy chips."

Roi could feel his blood pressure skyrocketing.

"I WAS BROKE, OKAY?!"

Kyler grinned.

"Sure, but you weren't desperate. You were just stupid."

Even the monstrous versions of his parents seemed to falter for a moment, as if wondering if Roi was even worth fighting.

And for a brief second, everything was chaos.

His mother's shadows flickered between intimidating and confused.

His father lowered his chains, sighing.

Kyler just sat there, swinging his legs like a smug little gremlin.

And Roi?

He wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

But then it hit him.

They paused.

His hesitation was crushing him.

But Kyler, in the most annoying, humiliating way possible, just proved something:

His parents—they weren't real.

And if they weren't real…

Then he could cut them down.

His grip on Black Ruin steadied.

His eyes flickered with a cold determination.

His father noticed.

And for the first time—his father took a step back.

The hesitation was still there. The guilt still weighed on him.

But something inside him was shifting.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

Because if he wanted to survive—he had no other choice.

Roi's grip on Black Ruin trembled, but something inside him had begun to shift.

The hesitation was still there, clawing at his mind, whispering doubts, wrapping him in the past like a noose.

But then—

His father moved.

Too fast.

The chains whipped forward, a blur of rusted metal and raw force.

And this time—Roi was too slow.

CRACK!

Pain exploded in his ribs. His breath ripped from his lungs as he was sent flying backward, crashing into the warped, glitching walls of the trial space.

His body screamed in agony.

Kyler let out a low whistle.

"Oof. That one sounded personal."

Roi coughed, blood pooling in his mouth. His vision swam, stars dancing at the edges.

He forced himself to move—but his mother was already there.

Her shadows coiled around his legs, dragging him forward before slamming him face-first into the ground.

Twice.

He barely registered the sharp pain before the shadows lifted him into the air.

His father stepped closer, raising the chains once more.

"You've always been weak, Roi."

He swung.

CRACK.

The chains struck again, this time against his back. The pain was unbearable, his body spasming against the cold air.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

His mother's voice was a hushed, mocking whisper.

"Look at you. You never change. Always running. Always failing."

His father tightened the chains around his neck.

"Maybe if we beat some sense into you, you'll finally understand."

Roi's vision darkened.

He was dying.

No.

He was breaking.

His past—the guilt, the pain, the regret—it was suffocating him.

And they knew it.

They were dragging him back into the weakest version of himself.

The version that stood in the doorway years ago, begging his father to understand.

The version that left that house feeling like a failure.

The version that had never been enough.

But then—

Through the pain, through the suffocating darkness—

A different voice cut through.

Not his father's.

Not his mother's.

Kyler's.

"So, this is how you die, huh?"

His voice was mocking, but sharp. Cruel, but knowing.

"Beaten to death by memories."

Roi's chest burned.

His vision swam.

And somewhere in the deep, primal part of his mind—something snapped.

No.

I am NOT that kid anymore.

His grip around Black Ruin tightened.

And then—

He roared.

A raw, animalistic sound ripped from his throat, and with everything left in him—he moved.

Phantom Dash activated.

He blurred forward, ripping free from the shadows.

His mother barely had time to react before—

SLASH!

Black Ruin sliced through her tendrils, severing the darkness like it was nothing.

She staggered back, eyes wide.

His father swung the chains again—

But this time—Roi caught them.

With his bare hands.

The rusted metal cut into his palms, but he didn't care.

For the first time since this trial started—Roi was fighting back.

His eyes burned with something new.

Not hesitation.

Not fear.

Rage.

He yanked the chains forward, pulling his father off balance.

Then, with one fluid motion—

He swung Black Ruin.

And the fight truly began.