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Poison was once like any other child.
He had a twin brother. Loving parents. A warm home. A future filled with laughter and dreams.
Or so it seemed.
It was on their tenth birthday that everything fell apart. Just after they blew out the candles on their cake, everything changed.
That night, men in black clothing broke into the house. They weren't thieves. They weren't enemies.
They were buyers.
And their parents? They didn't scream. They didn't resist. They didn't even flinch.
No — they watched.
Poison would never forget the look in their eyes: cold, indifferent. Worse still, he saw a flicker of excitement on their faces when one of the men handed them a briefcase full of money.
He and his brother were sold.
To slavery.
---
After that, everything blurred.
They were treated like animals — auctioned again and again, passed around whenever their "masters" grew bored. Sometimes it was a rich lady. Sometimes a rich man. They were forced to serve in ways that broke their minds more than their bodies.
For two years, the brothers endured.
Then, they were sold again — this time to an organization known only as The Perfect Organization.
It was anything but perfect.
There, they were brainwashed, trained, and broken until they became tools — assassins, informants, torturers. Living weapons for the underworld elite.
It was here that they lost their names. They became Poison and Antidote.
Poison was crafted to kill enemies. Do the dirty work. Eliminate targets in the shadows.
Antidote existed for one reason: to eliminate Poison if he ever lost control.
To ensure this, Antidote was trained harder, taught better, and conditioned to always be one step ahead. A failsafe in human form.
Both were lost. Machines disguised as boys.
---
But fate — or something stranger — gave Poison a chance.
On one mission, he was sent to "collect" a batch of slaves from a seller on the outer rim of the Spark Empire. A routine job. Nothing unusual.
Until he saw them.
His parents.
He didn't recognize them at first. His mind was still shackled by years of psychological control. But then… he saw it.
A birthday cake. Just like the one from that day.
And in that moment — memories came flooding back. Hidden, locked-away memories crashed through the cracks in his mind.
Parents. Betrayal. His brother. Chains. Blood. Screams.
He remembered.
Blinded by rage and confusion, Poison snapped. He slaughtered everyone in the house — his parents included. The pain, the lies, the betrayal — it all poured out in a storm of blood.
And yet… he let one child go. A boy who was about to be sold.
Poison couldn't save himself. But maybe… someone else could be spared.
---
By the time the Perfect Organization learned what he had done, it was too late. Poison had already gone dark. He had become something they couldn't control.
Worse — he had intel.
As a mid-tier commander, Poison had access to the locations of his fellow operatives. He used that information ruthlessly.
He began to hunt them. One by one.
The operatives had names like Rat, Eagle, Sword, Shield, Trickster, and Honesty. Some were easier to kill. Some nearly took him with them.
But in the end, they all died.
All except one.
Antidote.
His brother.
Poison couldn't bring himself to kill him. Instead, he decided to awaken him — after destroying the heart of the Perfect Organization.
After killing its founder: Jaison M. Mayhem, the so-called Demon of Hearts.
---
Meanwhile, Jaison was sweating inside a lavish villa.
Well — "Jaison" was a lie.
The person panicking inside that home was not a man, but a woman. A beautiful, voluptuous woman with curves that drove men mad. Jaison M. Mayhem was a persona — a mask to deflect attention.
But none of that mattered now.
Her empire was crumbling.
Piece by piece, her operatives were being wiped out. The plan she had spent years perfecting was coming undone.
Still, she wasn't worried about her life.
She still had Antidote by her side — the perfect failsafe. There was no way Poison could defeat someone who was designed to surpass him.
Frustrated, she sought comfort the only way she knew how — by sleeping with her tool.
At that moment, she was naked, grinding on Antidote, trying to forget the chaos.
Just as she was about to reach release, Antidote stood up suddenly.
"What the hell are you doing?" she shouted.
"Miss," he replied blankly, "he's here."
Her eyes widened. She turned.
The front door opened with a soft creak.
Standing there was a man in a green hoodie and tight pants, holding a curved knife in his hand.
Poison.
Antidote didn't wait. He charged forward without hesitation.
The two brothers clashed.
Poison yelled, trying to remind him. Their childhood. The betrayal. Their shared pain. But none of it got through.
Antidote didn't flinch. His eyes were empty.
With no other choice, Poison roared and fought with everything he had.
Blades clashed. Blood spilled. Back and forth, the two danced between death and memory.
But slowly, Antidote began to overpower him.
He was, after all, made to win.
Poison's stamina dropped. His blade slowed. And then—Antidote slashed his left arm off and knocked him unconscious.
The battle was over.
---
Antidote carried his brother's broken body outside and dumped it on the road like trash.
Bleeding, barely conscious, Poison smiled.
"You shouldn't have let me live… Antidote," he whispered. "As long as I breathe, I'll kill that b*tch... Hah… hahahaha…"
A truck's horn blared in the distance.
Poison looked up weakly.
"…WTF?" were his final words.
The truck hit him at full speed.
In that moment — perhaps because of a power from a higher dimension colliding with a lower one — the entire world shattered into nothingness.
---
Then, there was light.
A strange street. Faint wind. Magic in the air.
He was in the capital of the Spark Empire, in the magical world of Gaia.
And before him stood a small, odd-looking shop.
Its sign read:
Heavenly Internet Café
Poison blinked.
"…What the hell?"
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