Always three.

"Looks like somebody still hasn't learned their damn lesson," his voice dripped with sadism as he unleashed a cruel grin, his heel crashing down onto the back of my head with unrelenting force.

"You should've met the same fate as your parents that wretched day, you insignificant vermin." Another tormentor seized a handful of my hair, jerking my face closer to his with a sadistic smirk before callously spitting in my eyes. "Now fuck off, before we really start hurting you."

As the viscous assault blinded me, I could feel the surge of his malicious satisfaction radiating through the air. Hours of relentless battering had rendered my legs useless, leaving me in a state of agonizing immobility. However, rather than feed into their sick pleasure by attempting to move my legs, I chose a different path. With sheer determination, I wiped away the saliva from my eyes. They were three, always three.

"Oh? So you want more, huh?" he sneered, laughing alongside his accomplices before delivering a vicious punch to my already battered face, sending me crashing to the unforgiving ground.

Avoiding their piercing gazes, which only fueled their sadism, became my survival instinct. The merciless beating continued for what seemed like an eternity, each passing minute amplifying the torment inflicted upon me.

"We should get out of here. This idiot's not worth getting caught for. We don't want to end up in jail over some worthless vermin," one of them remarked.

"Yeah, I could use a meal," another chimed in.

Without giving me another glance, they all pivoted away, leaving me sprawled on the ground, battered and defeated. I had no choice but to lie there, gazing at the distant moon as it cast its cold light upon my broken form. It felt as if time had slowed to a crawl, stretching the pain and humiliation into an eternal moment of despair.

Summoning every ounce of strength within me, I mustered the willpower to peel my wretched body off the unforgiving ground, my battered limbs protesting with each agonizing movement.

As I slowly forced myself to get up from the ground, a fierce determination ignited within me, fueling the fire of my resolve. Through clenched teeth, I whispered to myself, my voice low with a mixture of pain, anger, and an unwavering determination, "I swear, one day, I'll rise above this. I'll become strong enough to face anyone who dares to hurt me. I'll forge myself into an indomitable force, impenetrable and unyielding. No one will have the power to inflict harm upon me ever again."

The intensity of my words resonated deep within my core, a solemn vow echoing through the darkness. With each step forward, I embraced the weight of my past, transforming it into the strength I needed to shape my own destiny. I refused to be defined by the cruelty that had been inflicted upon me. Instead, I vowed to transcend my circumstances, molding myself into a force to be reckoned with.

Through the pain and despair, a flicker of hope began to ignite within my soul, propelling me forward on a path of resilience and self-discovery. No longer would I be a mere victim, but a survivor who would rise above the ashes of my past, standing tall in the face of adversity.

With determination etched into every fiber of my being, I ventured forth, my heart aflame with the belief that one day, I would emerge victorious, reclaiming my power and rewriting the narrative of my existence.

But alas my will, perished in front of my mortality, and I crumbled to the unforgiving ground. Desperation engulfed me as my vision blurred, and the chilling realization swept over me like a cold, merciless wave—this would be my final night.

In the midst of the suffocating darkness, questions tormented my mind, haunting me like relentless specters. "Is this really how it all ends? What purpose did I serve enduring years of relentless torture? What was the meaning of my struggle if it all culminates in this hopeless moment?"

Tears, strangers to my eyes until now, streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the dirt and grime that adorned my face. The weight of a thousand sorrows bore down on my heart, and the anguish within me erupted in raw emotion.

Desperation clawed at my throat as my cries for help went unanswered, and in that bleak moment, I knew I couldn't hold on much longer. My eyelids felt heavy, the weight of exhaustion threatening to steal my consciousness, and I braced myself for whatever fate awaited.

"Get a kakushi in here, now! I need a damn kakushi!" The urgency in the voice that echoed through the darkness jolted me back to a semi-conscious state. Even in my weakened state, I could sense the gravity of the situation. They needed a healer, a lifeline, someone to salvage what remained of my fragile existence.

Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind as I grappled with the surreal turn of events. 'How could this be happening? Merely fifteen seconds ago, there was no one in sight. The sudden appearance of these individuals and their urgent plea for a kakushi baffled me. Shouldn't they be calling the police instead?' My mind thought.

My vision remained blurred, a haze of uncertainty clouding my perception. Yet, amidst the chaos, a faint intuition tugged at the fringes of my consciousness, urging me to surrender to the need for rest. It whispered to me, compelling me to yield to the overwhelming exhaustion that consumed my body.

Reluctantly, but with a strange sense of trust in this inner voice, I allowed myself to succumb to the weariness that threatened to engulf me.

As my eyes opened, I found myself in a desolate wasteland, a barren land devoid of life. The air was heavy with a sense of decay, and the landscape stretched out as far as the eye could see, a haunting reminder of desolation.

"So, this is the human you were so insistent about? Are you absolutely sure you want him? I would have chosen something more... valuable," a man's voice pierced the eerie silence. His words dripped with cynicism and carried the unmistakable dryness of someone in desperate need of a drink.

In response, a woman's voice thundered, her tone filled with exasperation, "Oh my god, I told you not to pick him! He's hardly worth the trouble, even as a mere pawn. Just kick him out, old man." Her words carried a childlike quality, reflecting her youthful impatience.

But amidst the cacophony of voices, another voice boomed, laden with a mix of authority and amusement, "Ara~ara... I do wonder what goes on inside that ancient head of yours, old man. If you continue making decisions like this, you're bound to meet your demise sooner than later." The speaker exuded an air of maturity, her tone suggesting a woman in her late twenties, wise beyond her years.

Confused and disoriented, I finally found the courage to speak up, breaking the oppressive silence. "What is happening here? Can someone please explain?" I uttered, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Immediately, the voices fell into a hushed silence, leaving me surrounded by an eerie stillness. Then, a wise and elderly voice resonated through the wasteland, commanding attention and respect, "My children, there is no need to conceal yourselves from this mortal. Reveal yourselves at once."

As he said that, he himself revealed himself. An elderly man with a bald head, visible wrinkles, hooked nose, and pronounced cheekbones. He has red eyes, long eyebrows, a long mustache, and a hip-length white beard secured by a purple band crossing down it. He has many scars on his body, with the two most prominent being a pair of long scars crossing above his right eye. (Think yamamoto from bleach)

The next to appear was the girl, who's childish. "Your such a bitch, Yamamoto, you know that?" She is a petite woman, who has an adolescent face with emerald green eyes, and matching green hair that naturally curls up on the ends. She wears a form-fitting V-neck black dress with a high collar, long sleeves, and four high-cut leg slits that show off her shapely long legs and black low-heeled shoes. [Tatsumaki from one punch man]

Another man appeared, but he wasn't somebody who talked previously. He is a handsome and muscular young man with bright purple eyes, black hair, and sharp facial features. His silence made him seem like the most mature besides the old man. (Think sung jin woo from solo leveling)

Next to appear was the mature lady, a beautiful young woman with a voluptuous figure, very long black hair and violet eyes. Her hair is usually tied in a long ponytail, reaching all the way down to her legs with two strands sticking out from the top and sloping backward, with an orange ribbon keeping it in place. "Ara~ara, tatsu you should be more kind to the old man, he is on his death bed Afterall~" (Akeno from dxd)

And lastly, the a man appeared, him being the first voice that spoke. a slim man with pale skin, tinged yellow teeth, and a great deal of wrinkles around his eyes. His lips are chapped and uneven, a small mole on the right underneath, with visible scars on his right eye and under his lip. He has messy, grayish-blue hair of varying lengths, the longest clumps reaching to about his shoulders, left hanging over his face in uneven waves. His eyes and mouth are usually stretched wide in a rather maniacal manner, their bright red irises very small. (Shigaraki from my hero)

"My children, come let us share some tea." The old man, whom I could only assume is yamamoto said loudly

Suddenly a table with 6 chairs appeared in the desolate land, and i knew this was gonna be a long day.