"Hey… you okay?"
Lunara asked, peering at Kael as he sat slouched on the bench.
Kael looked up, pointing a thumb at himself with that cocky grin she'd already grown used to.
"Me? I've never be—"
~ SMACK!
"Agh!" Kael jerked forward as Lunara's palm connected squarely with the back of his head.
"Glad you're okay," She said with a warm smile, completely ignoring his glare.
"Not anymore…" He muttered, pouting and rubbing the sore spot.
---
It had been barely twenty minutes since their last match.
The arena healers had worked fast, patching up Kael's bruised ribs and sealing the small gashes across Lunara's arm. This was a tournament of speed — rounds firing off back-to-back, one team after another, until only the strongest remained.
As they strapped their gear back on, one of the white-robed doctors patted Kael on the shoulder.
"Try not to come back here too quickly, yeah?"
Kael chuckled. "No promises."
They thanked the healers and stepped toward the arena tunnel. The deep, booming voice of the announcer rolled over the loudspeakers.
---
"NOW… WE'RE MOVING INTO THE FIRST MATCH OF ROUND TWO!"
Cheers erupted from the audience, the entire coliseum vibrating with excitement.
"FIRST UP — THE CROWD FAVORITES FROM THEIR LAST FIGHT… KAEL AND LUNARA!"
The crowd roared again, stomping their feet and chanting their names. Some held hastily scribbled signs, others just yelled at the top of their lungs.
Kael smirked and glanced at Lunara.
"You hear that? They love us."
"They love me," she replied flatly.
---
They walked out onto the battlefield — the scent of iron and blood heavier than before.
The ground was stained dark from the earlier matches. The high walls of the arena loomed above them, the crowd's noise pressing down like a wave.
The announcer's voice thundered again:
"AND THEIR OPPONENTS… GAZEN AND HASEN — A SIBLING DUO KNOWN FOR THEIR PERFECT WIN STREAK!"
The mood changed immediately.
The crowd's cheers shifted to a strange mix of excitement and tension, like they knew something Kael and Lunara didn't.
From the opposite tunnel, two figures emerged.
---
The girl was first — half-gray, half-black hair tied into a short tuft on top of her head, a simple black mask covering her mouth. Her cyan eyes glowed faintly, and her oversized white hoodie hung loosely over short black shorts. She looked almost casual… if you ignored the way she moved, every step unnervingly fluid.
Her brother followed — black hoodie, black jeans, white boots, and already holding a dagger loosely in his grip. His cyan eyes were just as sharp, his gaze fixed on Kael with unsettling focus.
The two teams stopped about twenty paces apart. Silence blanketed the arena.
Kael felt it — that cold, creeping weight in his gut. The same kind of feeling that had kept him alive in fights he should've lost.
Something's wrong.
Very wrong.
---
The girl tilted her head slightly, giggling under her mask.
The boy didn't smile. Didn't blink. Didn't move his eyes from Kael.
The announcer's voice cut the tension.
"FIGHT!"
---
No one rushed.
The air between them grew heavy, every heartbeat stretching longer.
Then Kael decided to break it.
"Alright, let's do this—"
In one explosive movement, he dashed forward.
Triple dash.
One, two, three blurs of speed — and somehow, a fourth burst squeezed from sheer willpower.
The way he was moving, he knew it.
He was faster than most opponents could track—
~SHNKKK!
The world spun sideways.
His body stopped moving.
Something wet and warm spilled down his neck.
Kael's eyes darted — the ground, his own legs, the fountain of blood erupting from a stump where his head should be. His head… which was rolling across the dirt.
Standing over him was the brother, his dagger dripping.
"These guys are weak," The boy muttered, voice almost bored.
"I'll take care of them quickly."
---
Darkness.
---
Then—
Light again — but the roar of the crowd was gone. The air was still. The stone beneath his boots felt different.
Kael blinked, heart pounding, and realized he was no longer in the arena.
He was in a large, dimly lit chamber — couches, tables, and dozens of other fighters lounging silently, some nursing phantom pains, others staring blankly at the wall.
A glowing sign above the doorway read in bold letters: LOSERS' LOUNGE.
...
---
...
Before he could speak, Lunara materialized beside him in a swirl of light.
Her bow was gone. Her eyes were wide.
"…Kael?"
He didn't answer at first. Instead, both of them turned toward the massive crystal wall at the far side of the room, where a live replay was being projected.
The recording showed Kael's dash — but instead of any visible movement from Hasen, the screen simply glitched.
One frame Kael was moving forward, the next his head was already separated from his body.
It didn't even make sense.
---
A soft ding chimed overhead, followed by the announcer's voice, calm and almost mocking.
"Kael and Lunara — eliminated."
The lounge murmured. Some fighters glanced at him with pity, others smirked knowingly.
Kael just stared at the crystal replay, then at his own hands.
"Huh?!"
It was all he could say.
Somewhere, far above, the crowd erupted again —Butnot for him this time.