Survival in Akame ga kill.

Bane didn't respond right away. He simply took another drag of his cigar, letting the smoke roll lazily from his lips as he stared at the window, watching the sun dip lower behind the mountains.

"…Yeah," he finally said, his voice flat. "I know."

Geralt didn't say anything at first. He just watched Bane with a level gaze, taking in the way the man's shoulders tensed ever so slightly—the only sign that he actually gave a damn.

Bane leaned back in his chair, running a hand on his bandaged head.

"It was the price I had to pay," he muttered, his voice devoid of regret. "In order to use Jormungandr's trump card."

Geralt stiffened slightly, his gaze narrowing. "You unlocked Jormungandr's trump card?"

Bane exhaled, his fingers idly tapping against his knee. "Yeah. Miraculously, I was able to tap into it."

He recalled the exact moment it happened. When he woke up in the midst of that chaos, barely conscious, his body broken, his mind teetering on the edge. 

It was then that he felt it, the instinctive call of his Teigu's ultimate ability.

Amplification.

Its trump card. A power that could take any single trait of his and push it beyond its limits, amplifying it in proportion to his emotions.

And in that moment, surrounded by death, with Sheele and Tatsumi on the brink of slaughter, with Seryu, a Rakshasa, and an entire horde of Imperial soldiers blocking any chance of escape—he knew what had to be done.

He wasn't sure if it was the right decision or if he even had other options.

But he chose to amplify his Hydra gene.

As a half-human, half-Hydra, he sometimes experienced uncontrollable bursts of animalistic aggression when he felt his life was at risk, where his instincts took over and his emotions ran wild.

The equation was simple—more emotional outbursts meant greater amplification.

Of course, it had possible negative consequences.

But he still pushed it further, staking everything on his trump card.

He gambled.

The transformation had been immediate, his body twisting, warping, growing into something monstrous. 

The moment his cells adapted, he became a killing machine, an obsidian nightmare with the raw power of a top-tier monster. His strength had skyrocketed, his regeneration turned limitless, and in exchange for his humanity, he had overwhelmed them.

He ripped through Kuro like paper. Imperial soldiers were crushed beneath his fists. Even the Rakshasa demon faltered before him.

He had won.

But at a price.

The moment he transformed, he lost himself. His rationality had crumbled beneath the overwhelming instincts of a beast. And in that moment of bloodlust, he had almost killed Sheele.

Almost.

By sheer luck or willpower, he had managed to stop himself before it was too late. But if he hadn't… if he had killed her in that form…

Bane didn't finish the thought.

But none of that changed the other negative outcome.

His body, which was already unstable due to his incompatibility with Hydra's blood—had deteriorated even further. His remaining lifespan, already short, had been cut down even more.

Which aspect specifically caused it, he still can't be sure.

A thick silence settled between them.

Geralt exhaled, rubbing his temples. "You dumbass."

Bane let out a dry chuckle, tapping the ash from his cigar. "Yeah, well... took you long enough to say it."

Geralt shook his head, his usual scowl deepening. "You really don't get it, do you? You had months, maybe even years, left. And you chose to burn through it in a single fight?"

Bane exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "Not much of a choice, was it?"

Geralt clicked his tongue in frustration, but didn't argue. 

It was Leo's own choice in the end.

Instead, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"You always were a reckless son of a bitch."

Bane smirked. "And yet, you're still here, watching over my sorry ass."

"Tch." Geralt rolled his eyes. "Not by choice. Someone's gotta make sure you don't do anything even dumber before you croak."

The air between them grew still again, the weight of unspoken words pressing down.

After a long pause, Geralt finally spoke. "...Do you regret it?"

Bane didn't answer right away. He flicked the cigar between his fingers, watching the ember glow faintly in the dim light.

Finally, he sighed.

"Regret?" He gave a small, lopsided smile. "No. If I hadn't done it, they'd be dead. And then what? I'd be sitting here with even less time left, drowning in the same old guilt? Nah."

"Did the doc tell you?" Geralt asked.

Bane smirked, though there was no humor in it. "Didn't need to."

Geralt studied him for a moment before sighing. "And?"

Bane finally turned his head toward him, his aquamarine eyes unreadable. "And what?"

"What the hell are you planning to do with the time you've got left?"

Bane exhaled, flicking the end of his cigar into the ashtray. The embers smoldered before finally dying out.

"…Talk to Sheele first." His voice was quiet. "Then visit my parents before I die."

A heavy silence followed.

Geralt didn't speak, didn't push further. He knew Bane well enough to understand that this was a subject the man rarely, if ever, touched.

Instead, he asked something else. "...Will you be okay?"

Bane let out a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back against the chair. "I don't know." He sighed, shaking his head. "Even if I'm a coward and a hypocritical bastard, even if I don't deserve parents like them... I'll go."

His fingers tightened slightly around his cigar.

"Funnily enough," he muttered, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, "that was one of the reasons I fought so damn hard at the end."

"After that?"

"Then… I don't know."

Geralt scoffed. "Bullshit. You know exactly what you're gonna do."

Bane shot him a side glance.

"You're gonna do something reckless," Geralt continued. "Throw yourself into some suicidal mission to make yourself feel useful before you drop dead."

Bane shrugged. "That's a strong possibility."

"Dammit, Leo."

Bane grinned, tapping a finger against his temple. "C'mon, old man. Did you really think I was the type to sit back and rot in bed? You know me better than that."

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering curses under his breath. "You're such a goddamn headache."

Bane chuckled. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

Another silence stretched between them. But this time, it was different. Heavier.

Geralt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "You sure about talking to Sheele?"

"No," Bane admitted. "But I'm still gonna do it."

Geralt sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Alright. I won't stop you."

Bane smirked, standing up and stretching his sore muscles. "You couldn't even if you tried."

Geralt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Just try not to make things worse."

Bane didn't respond. He simply stood up, grabbed his coat, exhaled one last plume of smoke, and walked toward the door.

As Bane moved toward the door, Geralt let out a gruff sigh.

"Wait."

Bane stopped, but didn't turn around. He simply stood there, one hand gripping the door frame as if bracing himself.

Geralt hesitated for a moment before reaching into his coat pocket. With a small grunt, he pulled out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and tossed it toward Bane.

Bane caught it effortlessly, fingers brushing over the familiar packaging. His brows raised slightly.

Geralt scoffed. "Figured if anyone's gonna need it, it's your sorry ass."

A long silence followed.

Then, to Geralt's surprise, Bane chuckled, low, quiet, almost amused.

"Old bastard," he muttered under his breath, stuffing the pack into his coat.

"Tch." Geralt clicked his tongue. "Just shut up and live, will ya? At least long enough to make it to your parents."

Bane tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he simply nodded.

Geralt watched as he finally stepped through the door, his silhouette framed against the dimming light of the corridor.

"…Leo," Geralt called out, just before he disappeared.

Bane paused.

Geralt exhaled. "You're not alone in this."

For a moment, Bane didn't respond. Then, with a lazy wave of his hand, he walked away, his voice carrying softly over his shoulder.

"I know."

"Oh, by the way," Geralt said casually, "Najenda is here."

"She's been waiting for you," Geralt continued, watching him closely. "And, uh… she's pissed."

Bane froze.

For a second, he didn't move. Then, slowly, almost stiffly, he turned his head just enough to glance back at Geralt.

"You're joking."

Geralt grinned. "Nope."

Bane blinked. Then, in a rare moment of complete lack of composure, he stumbled, catching himself against the doorframe.

Geralt burst out laughing.

"Oh, you should see your face right now—oh, you can't even see that because you look like a mummy."

"Goddamn it," Bane hissed under his breath, rubbing his temple. "That woman is actually gonna kill me—"

Geralt wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. "Serves you right."

Bane groaned, before shoving the cigarette pack into his coat and storming off down the hallway.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath as he walked away.

Geralt watched him go, shaking his head with a smirk. 

Then, as soon as Bane was out of earshot, his smirk faded.

He exhaled and muttered under his breath.

"Dumbass."