We never truly understand the weight of words until we hear them—until they are spoken directly to us.
Only then do they settle… heavy, unrelenting. Like a mountain placed upon our shoulders.
And when those words carry pain—when they reveal a truth we never imagined possible—they do more than hurt.
They break. This was the burden Tiza now carried. Not just the return of his memories— but the truth behind them.
Every mission. Every battle. Every life he had taken. All of it… now clearer than ever before. He had believed they were enemies. Believed they were threats. Believed they deserved what came to them. But that was not the truth. Not all of them were evil. Some were peaceful people—defending their homes. Others simply possessed resources that Zoro desired. And for that alone…
they were erased.
The weight of that realization crushed him. Even in his weakened state, bound and broken, his mind endured a different kind of torture. One far worse than chains. Because the truth had no end. And the masked man— had only just begun.
There was still more Tiza did not know.
And the man before him knew exactly how to deliver it.
Carefully. Precisely. Each word chosen like a blade. Each truth meant to cut deeper than the last. Then came the most painful one yet. The masked man spoke again.
Slowly.
Deliberately. He brought up Tiza's homeland. The village he once called home.
"I know you were too naive to realize it," he said. "Even now… you struggle to believe."
A pause.
"But I will tell you something your mind cannot escape."
His voice lowered.
"The truth about your village."
"The truth about what happened… after you left."
Tiza's head lifted.
For the first time, he spoke a name.
"Jeremiah…"
His voice was heavy, strained.
"Why?"
"Why do you take such pleasure in this?"
"Why cause me this pain?"
His breathing deepened.
"What have I ever done to you… to deserve this?"
For a moment, something shifted.
Behind the mask—Jeremiah's expression changed. But it was not enough. Not yet. He wanted more. He wanted Tiza to see him.
To understand. To feel it.
Fully. Slowly, he reached up. His fingers gripped the edge of the mask. And with deliberate motion—he removed it. For the first time—his face was revealed.
He stepped closer to the cage. Close enough that there was no distance left between them.
Eye to eye.
"Oh, Tiza…" he said quietly.
"I want you to look at me."
"To truly see me."
His voice carried something deeper now. Not just hatred. Something older. Something buried.
"You were always General Zoro's favorite."
A faint, bitter smile formed.
"And I envied you for it."
His gaze hardened.
"You had everything."
A pause.
"And you chose to throw it away."
He leaned even closer. His voice dropped.
"Just to live a normal life?"
Jeremiah spoke not just with words—but with years of buried pain.
Pain he had carried alone. Locked deep within his heart. Now, he believed everything rested on him.
He was the only one left. The only one who knew the truth. He felt abandoned.
Betrayed.
Left behind in the shadows while others walked away. While Tiza walked away. He had remained. Forced to carry out the darkest orders.
To kill. To destroy. To silence. And worse— to understand.To know the truth behind it all. It was a burden he believed far worse than death. And it had consumed him. What remained of Jeremiah was no longer whole.His heart had hardened. Blackened by rage. Twisted by hatred.
All that lived within him now—was vengeance. But he was not finished.Not yet. He steadied himself and continued. His voice calm… but cutting.
"This raid…"
He gestured toward the destruction around them.
"This is nothing new."
"It has been happening for years."
"Long before you were born."
"Some of us knew."
A pause.
"Others… like you… chose to look away."
His gaze sharpened.
"And yet… here you are."
"Facing it again."
Then his voice dropped.
Lower. Heavier.
"The village you once knew…"
"It's no longer exists."
Tiza did not move.
"No elders."
"No neighbors."
"No home."
"None of them survived."
Jeremiah took a step closer. Each word deliberate.
"The day you were taken…"
"…was the day your village was destroyed."
Silence.
"Just like now."
"The military had one goal—"
"To take the children."
"To claim the women."
"And to kill the rest."
"No witnesses."
"The day Zoro 'saved' you…"
"…was the day everything you knew was burned to nothing."
"Your home."
"Your people."
"Your past."
"All gone."
"There are no graves."
"No ashes left to mourn."
"For twenty-five years…"
Jeremiah's voice hardened.
"You have served the very man who destroyed your world."
"And now…"
He looked directly into Tiza's eyes.
"You stand here—"
"A victim of your own life."
Silence followed. Heavy. Unforgiving.
It took time—for the words to settle. For them to sink in.
No village. No home. No past. Everything erased. As if it had never existed. The life before the military—gone.This was the end.
Tiza felt it. Deep within him. Something broke. Completely.His will—shattered.His mind—
fractured.
His spirit—exhausted.
He tried to speak. To sc . To release the storm within him.
But nothing came. No voice. No cry.No sound.
Only silence.
The pain had gone beyond expression. Beyond tears. Beyond anything human.He could not even grieve.
And in that moment—Tiza lost his voice. Not by force. Not by injury. But by the weight of everything he had lost.
He lowered his gaze.Closed his eyes.And breathed.Slow.Empty.He was done.Across from him Jeremiah watched.
And for the first time—there was satisfaction on his face. He had done it. He had broken him. The Marked Wolf. The Lone Wolf. Fallen.
With no one left to rival him— Jeremiah stood alone at the top. The one thing he had always wanted. The one thing he had always chased.
Power.Recognition.Dominance.
Now—it was his.
And he was satisfied.