The leopard had struck like a spear, her whole body thrown forward with lethal intent; slamming the demon against the wall. The impact made the gate quake, and the beast slumped to the ground, its grotesque head shaking in disarray.
Simma's breath froze when he turned toward his companion. Ms. Shady stood there, the sleek muscles beneath her spotted coat coiled like springs of vengeance. At a glance, he saw the grim truth: the demon was easily twice her size.
The two predators locked eyes. A low growl; deep and furious, rose from both throats. They circled each other like gladiators, wrestlers burdened by lifetimes of rage and unresolved grudges.
Then, without warning, Ms. Shady launched. Her claws gleamed as they carved through the air, her leap charged with a killing intent sharp enough to curdle the blood. But the demon was quick, unnaturally quick.
It slashed upward, catching her mid-air, and hurled her savagely into the stone wall. The crack of her body striking it echoed like a bone snapping in silence.
Yet she did not stay down. Shaking with anger, her amber eyes burning like torches in the red light, she sprang again.
This time, the shadows themselves bent to her will. She vanished into them mid-leap, her form dissolving into darkness - then erupted out of the void like vengeance reborn. She struck the demon with a force even greater than before, slamming it to the ground. Her claws sank deep, pinning it, while her jaws tore savagely at its throat.
She was merciless. Her fangs ripped into its thick hide, and emerald thick blood sprayed across the cracked earth, hissing where it struck. The demon writhed, its guttural cry echoing in pain, as though the abyss itself screamed through its lungs.
Simma, who was sprawled on the ground, watched her with unspoken awe. His heart swelled, not just with gratitude, but with something deeper, something sacred. His love for Ms. Shady now burned so fiercely it could not be caged by words. She was his saviour, his partner, his soul's guardian and more.
But then… everything shattered.
What happened next, had occurred so fast.
The demon's body twisted unnaturally. From its ribs burst jagged protrusions; sharp-pyramid-shaped spikes, glowing as though forged from molten metal. They lashed forward with impossible speed. Tearing through Ms. Shady's heart not once but three times.
Her roar split the air, not of rage, but of pain.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The cry ripped from Simma's throat, shaking his body with such violence it felt as though his very veins had turned to fire. His vision blurred. His head throbbed. His heartbeat thundered, each pulse echoing like war drums in his skull. Sweat poured down his skin, stinging his eyes.
The world slowed. Every movement became an echo, every sound stretched thin.
"It can't be…" he whispered. The words stumbled from him, frail, trembling, unbelieving.
Ms. Shady staggered backward. Her blood stained the stone. Then, like smoke returning to its night, she dissolved into the shadows. The demon, still panting, staggered back to its feet, green ichor dripping from its wounds.
Simma tried to rush it, rage exploding in his chest.
But-but the gate behind him groaned. The iron doors, massive as mountains, began to close.
Panic overtook fury. He spun and ran, his legs burning, his lungs clawing for air. The demon thundered after him, each gallop covering six of his frantic steps.
Just then, through the rage, it came.
Scarlet scales flared to life along his wrist, translucent and glassy, like molten glass forged in lightning. Electricity crackled down his arm, and from his palm bloomed the hilt of a blade. In a flash, a sword forged itself, its edge glowing, thick and flame-coloured, its body alive with storm-light.
Simma didn't hesitate as he threw the sword forward.
The weapon spun with a hollow whistle, the blade rippling with scarlet lightning.
And before the gate would close, it stuck in between, wedging the gate sword-length apart.
The demon was just a few inches away from Simma as it dived for him. But Simma who had approached the gate, slid through beneath his sword.
But the demon collided with it. The blade cleaved through its body, splitting it from skull to spine, tearing it down through the center like parchment ripped by furious hands.
Green blood exploded across the gate, showering Simma as he tumbled to the ground. Half of the demon collapsed to the left, the other half to the right, its organs spilling, its lungs collapsing into view. Followed by the heart, spinal cord, and others.
But Simma did not care. He staggered toward the shadows where Ms. Shady reappeared, her body trembling.
She was still alive. Barely.
"Please… don't die, please…" he choked, his tears smearing with the demon's blood across her fur.
"Shady, roar for me. You're all I have. Please!" His sobs rattled from deep within, his voice fractured, desperate. He smeared his tears against her wounds, pleading with fate to undo what had been done.
As he cried, he held his hand around her eyes, though he knew that her tears had healing powers, but also knew that her own tears could not heal her, but yet he wished.
"Please... get the tear, let's try it. Please, let's just try."
He cried, sniffling loudly. He even rubbed his own tears all over her punctured heart side, but nothing happened.
Except from…
Her eyes, soft yet fading, met his. Then slowly… they closed. Her breath ceased. Her heartbeat stilled.
"No…" Simma whispered, his voice breaking into pieces.
From the shadows crept her cub, small and trembling, its wide eyes reflecting grief beyond its years. The sight shattered Simma's soul. He cradled the cub against his chest, his tears falling onto its fur, his arms tightening as though holding it might somehow bring her back.
But something inside him broke.
He stood. His grief turned molten. His pain congealed into rage. The tournament no longer mattered. The citadel no longer mattered. The only thing left was vengeance. He was going to go back and kill every last one of them… all those demons deserved to die.
His steps grew heavy, unsteady, his vision a blur of red as he moved toward the still-open gate. Rage blinded him, guiding him forward, until a voice split the air.
That particular voice he could never forget, the one that always haunted him in his dreams, turning them into nightmares.
The suited guy.
Simma froze. His eyes, blazing red and dripping flames that licked up his arms, locked onto the figure standing calmly beyond the gate.
The man's long overcoat draped to his knees. His eyes gleamed with the same lucent fire raging in Simma's own. In his hand, a staff tapped lightly against the ground, each sound deliberate, yet commanding.
"Don't hold back," the Suited Guy said, his tone smooth, venomous, and very much insidious.
Simma's rage surged higher.
"Why not let it all out?" The man's words slithered into his marrow, inflaming him, urging him.
Simma's vision blurred red. The voice, though hateful, was irresistible, as though it spoke with authority carved into his soul.
"Yes," the man pressed. "Look at what they did to her. To you. To the only thing that carried you this far. And still… they betrayed you."
The suited guy went on, his voice tempting and very luring, searing down Simma's spine as chill anger followed it.
"I know you may think this demon killed Ms. Shady"
Simma's mind flashed back to Ms. Shady. Her body. Her cub. His blood boiled.
"Ms. Shady? How… how do you know her name?" Simma snarled; teeth bared.
Though Simma didn't know how the suited guy was out of his dreams, preying on him in reality but he still strangely paid attention to him. Maybe it was the rage, or maybe he was already consumed by the Umbrax.
The man smiled faintly. "I am the Umbrax. I know all."
The words struck like a hammer. Simma's fury began to twist into something darker.
But the suited guy continued:
"This demon would have not killed or attacked you if you were at the right place like the other recruits, which was the Soulnexer's Lair."
Simma looked up at him. His anger might have just diverted to someone else... the Citadel. Just if what the suited guy is saying is true.
"How... how did you know?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"I am the Umbrax... I know all," the suited guy replied yet again.
"Just like I know what they did to you... the way they locked your potential, your Within Beast and its weapon, making you defenceless even until now... the way they left you for dead in the hands of the Singriths that had tortured you since. Just because your father was great. And even after everything, they took you back and yet hid these truths from you. And nothing hurts more than…"
"AAAARRRRGGGHHH!"
Simma yelled as a wave of lightning burst out of him and swept through the whole place.
It all made sense why he found his Within Beast so out of reach, also his weapon, and also how he wound up with no one to raise him as his parent. So it was all the fault of the Citadel.
"Yes- yes... let it out," the suited pressured,
"… the rage, the violence. They need to see you for who you are… that you are no more that innocent child abandoned for death in a desert. You are more and should be feared."
Simma now raised his head. He no longer cared whether the Umbrax was what spoke to him, or that if he did his bidding, like Zolomon had warned, that he would be turned into a Nexer. All he cared about now was revenge for a lifetime of suffering and agony.
But then the second suited guy appeared with his blue calm eyes and subtle voice as he burst out:
"Liar! He is lying to you, ... please, don't listen to him."
Simma stared at him. It was as if he was now a vessel filled with rage and now confusion.
"He is the Umbrax…." Blue eyes said, "Remember all you learned. He is playing you to turn you into something worse… something lifeless, with no soul."
The other suited guy (red eyes) spoke:
"Simma, this man here wants your suffering to continue, and I say you shouldn't listen to him."
But the one with the blue eyes interjected: "No, think of what you are fighting for…."
"Simma, THOSE YOU ARE FIGHTING FOR DID THIS TO YOU!" the red-eyed suited guy tapped in fiercely.
But the other, as calm and convincing, continued:
"You see, rage… this is what brings your doom. This man here is my nemesis. Don't believe whatever he tells you."
Simma had already bent his head again as their words lashed at his head, causing it to stumble and entangle.
When he raised his head, his eyes were flickering, trying to turn back to their normal colours. And the blue-eyed suited guy saw it as he walked up close to him.
"Yes, you are doing the right thing... fight that rage…Push him away."
"Simma, I know you are wise," the red-eyed one said. "Make the right decision."
The blue-eyed suited guy cut him off.
He walked up to him and held him by the shoulder.
"Let me in… sync with me"
Red eyes exploded; "No Simma… No"
But Blue eyes was persistent ", think of Sa…."
He couldn't finish when the thick, flame-coloured blade ran through him.
The blade was held by Simma, who held no emotion for what he had just done.
"The only thing that makes me pathetic," Simma said coldly, "is you."
"No…" Blue Eyes coughed, fading. "If you do this… you will be broken." His final words dissolved into silence as his body vanished like smoke.
At once, patterns began crawling across Simma's skin, like serpents of fire etching his flesh. They spiralled from his hand up to his neck, a final sigil burning above his left eye. They glowed faintly red, not tattoos but living brands, marks of the broken.
The Umbrax's chosen.
Simma's eyes blazed crimson as veins spread like cracks across the whites. His canines elongated, his teeth sharpening into a predator's grin. His aura thickened, foul and monstrous, like blood curdling in the air.
His fingers curved into claws, jagged and foul, while the patterns writhed deeper across his body.
The energy surging through him was intoxicating, a storm of power never before tasted. Rage clung to it like a parasite, binding to his veins, consuming him whole, just as Zolomon had warned.
For Simma did not become a Soulnexer.
He became something worse.
He became a demon.
Raising the same blade that had struck down Blue Eyes, a wicked smirk cut across his face.
But then… darkness.