Survive, if you can.

It's raining outside, like, almost every day, isn't it? I've been so lost in thought lately... The rain seems to sync with my rhythm, somehow. Yesterday, Mercil and I celebrated our anniversary by making one last drug delivery, but this is far from our final act. The storm outside keeps pouring, raindrops hammering the ground, splattering into tiny droplets that soak everything. Graduation looms like a whip, ready to punish me for my sins. Will graduating change me into something else? I feel like a thin line, a blade gleaming under the light, but one that could be tarnished by blood at any moment. How much of me is really *me*?
It's a question I've tried to avoid, but it always finds a way to bump into me. But now's not the time to dwell—it's time to move forward to the next stage of Blood Moon.
— Danme! You there?
Smatcill, the one who caught Mercil's attention years ago, the one who reeled us into this faction. Atrocious—would that be the word to define him for his heinous crimes? — You ready for your graduation?
— Of course I am...
I wondered if I could keep up the act. Maybe a gesture would give me away, betray the mask I've worn since I arrived here. A mask not just to deceive those around me, but to keep myself from falling, from drowning in this rain.
— Great, go ahead. Mercil's already in the boss's room. — He took a few steps forward, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. — Oh, and Danme, you’re not seriously gonna wear that ragged beanie in front of the boss, are you?
— You’re right. — I took off the beanie and stuffed it into my coat pocket. — Alvo’s a perfectionist, isn’t he?
— Glad you know that. — He vanished completely, turning his face away as he headed off to his own dark deeds.
The storm outside had stopped. I glanced out the window behind me one last time, seeing the soaked streets. Would I end up stained, like those streets? I let out a sigh, trying to shake the weight of guilt from my throat. I could barely breathe, my body cold with sweat, dreading the misfortune to come. "It's not the time to think, Danme, you need to keep going," the words echoed in my mind. "You need to be a man, you need to be strong."
A sharp, distressing sound pierced the air, as if the universe itself was warning me there was no way out. It was the door to Alvo's room opening, and Mercil was waiting for me there.
— Your turn, Danme. — He crossed his arms, waiting for me to move. Mercil was always so cold, so distant. I wanted to be like him. Even his clothes were morbid—a tight, all-black compression suit.
— Alright... — I touched the necklace Niik gave me, the cold metal of the cross comforting me, as if it carried some hope from another world. I lifted my head and... — I'm ready.
As soon as I stepped into that room, I felt an overwhelming pressure, the presence of malevolence dominating the gravity of the space. To make it worse, the room was small, amplifying the oppressive aura of its occupant: Alvo. Sitting on a leather couch with a bloodstained skull in his hand, he gave me a quick glance, sizing me up from head to toe.
— You must be Danme. — Why did his voice feel like it was slipping into my ears and sliding down my spine like an icy blade? — Mercil, close the door, please. — His voice was calm, yet so sharp, it felt like he was splitting my skull in half just by speaking.
I tried to straighten my posture, even though the floor seemed to pull me down. The bloody lighting in the room made everything worse.
— Nervous, Danme? — Alvo undid the knot in his hair, letting his black strands fall loose like the darkness of his soul.
— No! Not at all... I’m just... a little hungry. — DAMN IT! Posture, Danme! With that shaky, scared-kitten voice, you’re not convincing anyone!
Alvo placed the human skull on the armrest of the couch and slowly stood up. His defined physique was marked with brutal battle scars, cuts all over his body except his head. But what caught my attention most was the Blood Moon tattoo on his chest—he was marked by the faction right down to his heart. He adjusted the belt of his ripped jeans, which didn’t even seem to fit his proportions.
— Tell me, Danme. — He stepped closer, staring me down with his dark eyes. — How far are you?
I broke. "How far am I?" What does that even mean? — What do you mean?
He walked back to the leather couch, picked up the skull, and held it out toward me. — Nature is intriguing, isn’t it, Danme? Man came from nature, but nature never left man. — He sat down. — Since ancient times, man has fought for his own convictions and goals. In the face of chaos, humanity remains the same. — He placed the skinless skull on the floor. — Tell me something that hasn’t changed since man emerged from nature, Danme.
I pondered my words. Something that hasn’t changed? Maybe... — Society?
— Wrong answer. — He lifted the skull in front of his face, like a representation of death itself. — Survival.
Why is he talking about this? I don’t get it. What does this guy want?
— The primary law of nature. Survival. What do you do to survive? Do you work? Conquer? Dominate? Kill?
Suddenly, he slammed his forehead violently against the skull, splitting it in half. Warm blood began to trickle down his forehead, but he didn’t even flinch.
— Humanity has never let go of that, Danme. It’s embedded in our DNA. It’s inevitable that you’ll fight for your survival. Like a damn traitor in our faction. — Alvo pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pocket, taking a slow drag. — Do you happen to know... Niik Bowskovi?
Niik?... — I... I do know him... Why?
Alvo smoked his cigarette slowly, blowing the smoke into the air. — Survival, Danme. Everyone fights for theirs. And we fight for ours. Let me break it down for you.
Alvo snapped his fingers, giving an order to my brother, who then handed me a pistol. My hand trembled, my chest hollowed out with agonizing discomfort.
— We’re going to bring down the system, and I have a plan for it. But Niik is a bastard who works with the D.G agents, a real traitorous insect, getting in the way of my plan. However... — he relaxed into the couch. — You’re in charge of handling this. Don’t let him stop me from achieving my goals. I’ll see you in hell.
Kill... Niik? My friend... I... I can’t kill him.
— When you kill him, Danme, you’ll answer my question. — Alvo pressed, then crushed the cigarette into the cut on his forehead.
— What... What question?
— How far are you? — he replied.
Mercil grabbed my shoulder — Let’s go. By now, he’s probably already there.
My eyes were locked in place. Scenes flashed through my mind. The first person I’ll have to kill is my best friend? How far am I?