The Next Day
Even with the thoughts from last night refusing to leave his head, Xain forced himself to concentrate on what was coming—his fight with Even. The atmosphere in the fighters' waiting room was far calmer than before. With only four people competing today, the tension was thinner, the weight of the moment spread between fewer shoulders. Two of the fighters didn't radiate the same kind of intensity as most of the others, and the rest were just observers, no different from the audience beyond the walls. This was the last stretch—the last four.
"Today decides who the final competitors will be, and you are distracted."
The voice snapped him out of his haze. He turned slightly and found Zeva at his side, her sharp eyes watching him.
"What's on your mind?" she asked, her tone not demanding, but probing.
"Nothing much," Xain answered quickly, trying to deflect with humor. "Just existential dread, you know? No big deal." He gave a nervous chuckle, though his eyes betrayed the weight in his thoughts.
Zeva raised a brow, unimpressed by his joke. "Well, get yourself out of it. You want to help him, don't you?" She gestured toward Roland.
Roland looked far better than before, no longer forced to press his back against the wall for support, his posture steadier, his face not as strained. Seeing him like that reminded Xain of the reason he had stepped into this arena in the first place. His chest tightened, then slowly loosened as he drew in a deep breath, letting it ground him. His eyes focused again, the haze of doubt lifting just enough.
"Yeah… I do want to help him," Xain admitted, turning back to Zeva.
"Get ready for tomorrow's loss, because I will definitely win," he added with conviction
Her lips curved into the faintest smirk at his boldness, but her reply was sharp. "Win against the Mathers first," she said flatly, "and then we'll see about beating me."
Zeva gave a small nod of acknowledgment before turning and walking off.
"Are you expanding?"
The sudden question pulled him around. Mae had strolled up with a grin plastered on her face, clearly amused about something.
"What? Expanding?" Xain asked, his expression turning puzzled. "What are you even talking about?"
Mae smirked, her amusement bubbling over into a light, very entertained giggle. "It's adorable when you act like you don't know what I'm talking about."
She didn't explain further, just let the tease hang in the air as she shifted her gaze toward Even, who stood near the viewing window. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his posture rigid as he stared out at the arena, every line of his body steeped in seriousness.
"How confident are you in beating magic man over there?" Mae asked, tilting her head toward Even.
Xain's mouth tightened. He let out a low hum, eyes flicking toward his upcoming opponent. "I don't know…" The words left him quieter than before. His earlier conviction wavered when faced with reality—Even's skill set was vast, his arsenal deep, and every possible strategy Xain imagined seemed to tilt in the other man's favor. Yes, there were things he could do to swing the fight, but each of them felt wrong. Especially now, knowing the reason Even was fighting, the idea of exploiting certain advantages left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I'll just have to do my best," he admitted finally, voice steady but weighted. "Because that's all I can do right now."
Mae's grin softened just enough as she placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in close until her lips brushed the edge of his ear.
"Don't worry too much," she whispered, her tone almost sing-song. "You beat me—even if it was Annie guiding you, it was still your body. I'm sure you can beat him too."
The whisper sent a sharp shiver down Xain's spine. Heat pricked at his face as he jerked back slightly, a faint flush rising while he rubbed at his ear. Mae didn't budge an inch—her grin only deepened, utterly unbothered by his reaction.
*That felt way too intimate!* Xain's mind shouted, flustered.
"Uh, yeah," he muttered, stumbling over his words as he kept his gaze down. "Thanks for… believing in me and all that."
"You're welcome~" Mae replied smoothly, her grin stretching just a little wider.
Meanwhile, Calvinel's eyes followed Zeva as she approached, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. "It's like you've already decided I'm going to lose and went straight to your future opponent," he said, his tone lighthearted.
Zeva came to stand beside him, her posture composed and steady. "You're half right," she replied, her voice calm but certain. "I already know that you are going to lose against me." She paused, tilting her head as she gestured subtly toward Xain, who was still wrapped up in his flustered conversation with Mae. "But whether he wins against the Mathers and becomes my next opponent—that's not something I can predict."
Calvinel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Your confidence in my loss is unwavering, I see," he remarked, a faint grin on his face. He leaned back slightly, hands resting casually at his sides, before adding with a thoughtful tone, "He's definitely fighting an uphill battle, that's for sure. But who knows? He's surprised us twice before. Who's to say he won't do it again?"
At that moment, the arena erupted in movement as Quincy soared into the sky, her wings cutting through the sunlight. She hovered with effortless grace, scanning the crowd below before her voice rang out, clear and commanding, reaching every corner of the stadium. "Welcome, everyone, to the sixth day of The. Tournament. Of. Greatness!!! And the semi-finals!!!"