My lips tremble as I dare meet his gaze.

Ze. Socially inept, endearingly arrogant Ze. And yet, with all his shortcomings, with all his inexperience with emotions and social cues, he managed to give me the most wonderful gift I have ever received.

Myself.

He gave me back myself and the opportunity to claim my past.

"Thank you," I murmur, vowing to find a way to return the favor at a later time. Regardless of the fact that he is a god—a very rich god—who cannot possibly want for anything, I will repay him.

Ze watches me for a few more moments to ensure I'm all right before he moves to the side, allowing me a full view of Sergio.

He's dressed in dirty rags that cling to his skin, stained by blood and other bodily fluids. The Jì didn't just restore his past appearance, but it also converted all the spiritual suffering into bodily suffering. His hair is the same gray-white shade I last saw it, his face wrinkled and showing the signs of his age.

Even in his sixties, he'd still gotten off on tormenting people. But there's no age cutoff for evil, is there? The desire to harm and cause pain is a ubiquitous one that withstands the test of time even when the means by which one is able to inflict it are not.

He looks pitiful. Yet I've suffered too much at his hands to have even one ounce of pity for him. All I feel is revulsion. A hate so deep, it's seeped into my bones, never letting me truly be.

But no more.

This is the last time I'll allow him to influence me, just as this is the last time I'll allow myself to think of him. It's a promise I make to myself. I've been a prisoner to this grudge for far too long.

For this moment, I'll let go. But after I'm out of here, I'll never once think of him again.

Sergio blinks as he accommodates to the light, but it's not a few seconds later that his eyes widen in realization. He recognizes me.

"Tu..." he grits out. "Maldita perra," he spits at me, his words slurred.

"Ya no me puedes lastimar, Señor."

He scrunches his nose.

"¿Sabes donde estás?" I ask him, deliberately addressing him informally. In the past, I would have been flogged for merely daring to meet his gaze, let alone address him with tu.

He looks around, his glazed eyes filled with confusion.

"En el infierno," I tell him, the words filling me with great pleasure. "Aquí no eres ningún dios. Solo un maldito pecador que va a sufrir por la eternidad."

He flinches, pulling back and trying to escape his chains. He lets out a pitiful cry of pain as the chains dig into his flesh. But he doesn't stop. He does everything in his power to look for an escape.