Down on the battlefield, Aaron had finished resting.
He opened his eyes slowly.
The lazy pretense fell away in an instant, replaced by cold, focused intent.
"Alright. You all. It's time to call it a day," Aaron informed the encircled participants, voice carrying effortlessly across the isolated spaces.
The participants stared back at him.
No fire remained in their eyes.
No defiance.
Only exhaustion, dread, and the desperate wish to be done with this nightmare.
The tournament had long ceased to matter.
All they wanted now was escape, from him.
None of them could stomach another second of Aaron's brutal, casual cruelty.
"Worry not," Aaron said, his voice dropping into a low, chilling register that seemed to suck warmth from the air. "I plan to end everything now."
Darkness began to creep from his feet.
It started as thin tendrils, coiling upward like living smoke.
The shadows felt wrong, cold, oily, alive.
