The crowd's roar echoed like distant thunder, but to Annie, it was all meaningless noise. The declaration of victory didn't register. The arena could have collapsed around her and she wouldn't have noticed. Nothing mattered now—except Mae.
From the moment Xain had first seen her, something inside had stirred. Annie had felt it instantly. Mae reminded him—them—of someone. A man buried deep in memory, someone Annie had been made to destroy. Xain hadn't realized it, but Annie had. And now that Mae lay unconscious in the dirt, Annie moved—not to celebrate, not to offer a hand in sportsmanship—but to finish what she'd started.
She stepped toward Mae in slow, deliberate strides. There was no anger in her expression. No smugness. Just intent. She didn't win fights. She broke people.
*What are you doing!?* Xain's voice exploded in her head, full of panic.
*You saw what she tried to do to you,* Annie replied, her tone cool and lilting, a hum curling at the edge of her words. *This is just me returning the favor~*
The crowd didn't see it. Most were too busy cheering, chanting Xain's name. Those who did glance her way thought nothing of it—assumed she was going to help Mae up, or raise her arm in sportsmanship. Even Quincy, watching from above, let out a soft chuckle, assuming this was like before—that Xain would snap back to normal any second now.
Inside the mindspace, Xain wasn't chuckling. He was freaking out. "Ercale! Stop her! Please!" he shouted, turning sharply toward the Demon Lord beside him. "You have to, or she'll—"
"You don't have to elaborate, ape," Ercale cut in, raising one hand toward the screen in front of him, his tone neutral, almost bored. "She's too much trouble."
Annie froze mid-step. Her hand had just started to reach toward Mae.
*What do you think you're doing?* she asked sharply, displeasure threading her tone—not angry, not yet, but annoyed at being interrupted.
*Stopping you, obviously,* Ercale replied flatly. *Nice to know that even if you act smarter, you're still as dumb as the ape next to me.*
*Is now really the time to make fun of me!?* Xain shot back, exasperated.
Ercale didn't answer. He kept his hand out, eyes locked on the screen. On the outside, Annie's muscles twitched violently—every nerve lit up like lightning had just ripped through her spine. She stumbled.
*Ah~ whatever,* Annie exhaled with a disappointed sigh. I'll be back. *And next time? I'll have something for you, little warden. So you better be ready, Demon Lord~*
Her body pitched forward—but didn't fall. Xain caught himself, staggering a little before steadying, arms at his sides. He blinked. Then looked down at his hands.
"I'm… back in control," he muttered. He tilted his head slightly, listening. No trace of Annie's voice. Only Ercale remained.
*She's gone, ape. For now, anyway. I'll see if I can find a way to get rid of her permanently,* Ercale said, *but don't count on it.*
Then, silence.
Xain looked down at Mae—unconscious, breathing faintly. Guilt twisted in his chest.
"I'm really sorry for what she did," he said softly, knowing she couldn't hear him.
A whisper crackled in from above. "Uh… Xain? If you're done, could you go back now?" Quincy's voice was hushed, awkward.
Xain blinked, suddenly aware of the dozens—maybe hundreds—of eyes still on him. His cheeks burned. "R-right, sorry," he muttered quickly, stepping aside as medical staff jogged over to tend to Mae. Without another word, he turned and made for the exit.
In the stands, Zee abruptly rose to her feet. "I have to go," she said, already weaving her way through the crowd. She didn't wait for Larkin to speak or for Nori to scribble anything on his notepad—her thoughts were locked on one thing: Mae. She had to check on her sister.
Elsewhere, perched among the murmuring audience, Amara's gaze tracked Xain as he exited. Her head tilted slightly. "You've improved a lot…" she muttered under her breath. "No. That wasn't you, was it?" Her eyes sharpened, a twisted glint flashing in them. "Was it Cain again? Or…something else?" Her fascination was already bordering obsession, but now, even Larkin had begun to fade from focus. Her curiosity had shifted fully to Xain—how he worked, how he thought, and most of all…how to kill him.
In another corner of the stands, Sarandel's tone was thoughtful, her eyes narrowed. "There was a surge. Faint, but unnatural… Ercale interfered," she said. Her gaze hadn't left Xain since the end of the match. X sat beside her, silent, fingers twitching slightly as he thought back to what he'd seen. That wasn't a technique. That was a takeover. A possession. *He became someone else.* His humming buzzed low through his skull mask, a distorted, eerie sound. *You're spiraling into something far more fascinating than I expected, Xain.*
Elsewhere in the stands, Clara sat quietly, hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. "He won… but it felt off," she said softly. "The way he won… it didn't feel like I was watching him fight." Her voice trembled just slightly.
Elsa let out a slow exhale beside her. She didn't need to ask—Clara was emotionally swayed, as always. She cared too quickly, got attached too easily. "You have something to answer later today, Xain," Elsa whispered under her breath, her arms tightening across her chest.
Meanwhile, Xain trudged down the corridor, the cheers behind him now just a blur. The victory meant nothing. All he could think about was what waited for him back in the fighters' waiting room.