The cheers and the chants of the crowd carried on for far longer than they should have. Even with the teachers shouting over the noise, demanding order, the voices of the students rang out in excitement, awe, and fear. It was a kind of hysteria that fed on itself, every shout and cry growing louder until it became a deafening roar in the arena. Cain remained where he was on the blood-soaked stage, his boots sticky with what was left of Abel. His violet eyes dimmed, no longer glowing, but the memory of them was burned into every onlooker's mind.
The teachers worked relentlessly, waving their arms, their voices raised in commands that carried across the stone arena. Slowly, the sound began to fade, one cheer dying after another until silence finally fell once more. The crowd, though hushed, was restless. The air was still electric, heavy with fear and fascination. Cain could feel their eyes on him, hundreds of them, waiting to see what he would do next.
