The arena lay in ruins, its sanded floor a chaos of cracked stone and scattered rubble, the air heavy with dust and the sharp tang of scorched earth. Rune-etched pillars flickered, their glow dimmed by the haze, while the stone tiers loomed silent, no crowd to fill them. The faculty watched from above, their gazes sharp—Lyra's silver-trimmed gown catching the midday sun, her eyes unreadable, the headmaster's crimson robes smoldering, sparks curling at his fingertips. The God Wand's case gleamed in the corner, its adaptive aura pulsing, a quiet reminder of the stakes driving every heart in the arena.
Kai climbed the tiers, his earth-motif robes dusted with ash and sand, his steps steady despite the fight's toll. The serious edge he'd worn against Sylas was gone, replaced by his usual grin, wide and teasing. "Guess I overdid it," he said, gesturing to the wrecked arena, craters and gouges marking his victory. "Think they'll bill me for this?"
