The narrow streets of London's slums bustled with life, the air filled with the sounds of laughter and cries, and the scent of food cooking over open fires. Young Jack, with his dirt-smudged face and bright eyes, navigated the chaotic maze of alleys with ease. His mother, a kind woman with a heart full of love, always managed to make their tiny, decrepit home feel warm and inviting despite the hardships they faced.

"Mama, look what I found!" Jack's voice rang out with excitement as he burst through the door, holding up a shiny button he had discovered in the street.

His mother turned from the small stove where she was preparing their meager supper and smiled warmly. "That's wonderful, Jack. Maybe we can sew it onto your coat to make it look new again."

Jack grinned, his heart swelling with pride. Life was tough, but his mother's love and care made every struggle worth it. They had each other, and that was enough.

One evening, everything changed. Jack came home to find strange men in their small living room, their faces stern and unfriendly. His mother stood apart from them, her expression cold and detached in a way Jack had never seen before.

"Mama, why are these men here?" Jack asked, his small voice trembling with fear.

His mother looked at him with eyes devoid of the warmth he was used to. "Jack, they're here for you. You're going with them now."

Jack's heart pounded in his chest. "But Mama, why? I don't want to go! Please, don't make me go!"

She turned away, her voice icy and final. "I don't care what you want, Jack. They paid for you. Do whatever you want with him, I don't care."

One of the creditors, a burly man with a cruel sneer, grabbed Jack by the arm. "Come on, kid. Your new life starts now."

Jack's screams and pleas echoed through the alley as he was dragged away, his world shattering around him. The once warm and loving home became a distant memory as he was sold into a slave camp. Days turned into years, each one filled with back-breaking labor and brutal beatings. The boy who had once laughed and played in the streets of London became a shadow of his former self, his spirit crushed under the weight of relentless cruelty.

After more than five years of torment, Jack managed to escape. He returned to the slums, his heart clinging to the hope that his mother had made a terrible mistake and would welcome him back with open arms. But when he arrived, he found her living with another man, their home filled with the warmth and love he had once known.

When they saw him, his mother's face twisted with disgust. "What are you doing here? I told you I wanted nothing to do with you."

Her new husband joined in, his voice filled with venom. "Get out of here, you wretch! You're not welcome."

They beat him and chased him away, their harsh words and blows shattering the last remnants of Jack's hope. He fled into the night, his heart broken beyond repair. As he wandered the dark streets, something inside him twisted and broke. The boy who had once been filled with love and laughter was gone, replaced by a dark, maniacal force that would become known as Jack the Ripper.

---

Back in the Grand Arena of Olympus, tears streamed down Jack's face as those buried memories surged to the surface. The pain, betrayal, and loss he had long tried to suppress now overwhelmed him. Through the haze of his anguish, he saw Amaterasu, bloodied and battered, yet still smiling warmly at him, her light a beacon of compassion.

Jack's vision blurred with tears as he looked at Amaterasu. For a moment, he saw a reflection of his past loving mother in her eyes. Despite the brutality of the battle, she had fought to save him, not destroy him. The realization struck him deeply, and he found himself smiling back at her, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank you... for saving me."

Amaterasu's smile widened as she opened her arms. "Come here, Jack. Let me heal your pain."

Jack stepped forward, allowing her to embrace him. The warmth of her touch brought a fleeting sense of peace, but suddenly, a grieving, dark voice echoed inside Jack's head, urging him to kill. The voice grew louder, insistent, drowning out the calm that Amaterasu's presence brought.

In a reflexive motion, without any conscious thought, Jack's blades lashed out. To everyone's shock, he severed both of Amaterasu's arms. The goddess gasped, her light dimming but not extinguishing. The voice inside Jack's head urged him on, demanding more blood, more death. He raised his blade again, this time aiming for her heart.

"No!" Jack's scream was filled with anguish as he drove his blade into Amaterasu's chest, his eyes wide with horror at what he was doing. The voice in his head exulted, but Jack felt only a profound sorrow.

As Amaterasu fell, her life force ebbing away. To Jack's surprise, she reached out and embraced Jack once more. "It is not your fault," she whispered, her voice soft and forgiving. "I forgive you."

Her words and her touch broke something inside Jack. The darkness that had consumed him for so long shattered, leaving him feeling empty and lost. Amaterasu's light flickered and then went out, her body going limp in his arms.

Hermes stepped forward, his voice solemn as he announced the outcome. "The winner is Jack the Ripper. But this victory is tainted with sorrow."

Jack felt a hollow emptiness inside him, a sorrow unlike any he had ever known. It was not the familiar sorrow of destruction and death but the aching pain of losing someone he had come to care for. As he stood amidst the ruins of their battle, he realized that the victory meant nothing. All he felt was the profound loss of Amaterasu's light.

The gods and humans watched with mixed emotions. Even the humans he had fought to protect looked at him with disdain. He had won the battle, but he had lost something far more precious. Jack walked away from the arena, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders.

In the stands, Sherlock Holmes stepped forward, his voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "Jack fought to protect us. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption."

Jack looked up, hearing Holmes's words with a sense of gratitude. Despite everything, there was still a glimmer of hope, a possibility of finding a path out of the darkness.

The aftermath of the battle left the gods and humans grappling with their emotions. They had witnessed a clash of light and darkness, of redemption and despair. The fate of the combatants and the future of the tournament hung in the balance, each moment charged with uncertainty and hope.