[Day 3 of the Tournament – Semi-Finals]
[Location: The Arena Floor]
Elena hit the ground and rolled, her white uniform now stained brown with dirt and red with blood.
She gasped for air, her ribs screaming from the impact of Alaric's punch. If he hadn't pulled it at the last second, her sternum would be dust.
She scrambled to her feet, swaying slightly.
Across the arena, Alaric was already charging again.
He looked like a nightmare. His armor was scorched black from her plasma beam. His skin was blistering.
His eyes were still red and watering from the flashbang, but he was locking onto her silhouette with terrifying focus.
"Stay down, Elena!" Alaric roared, swinging The Anvil in a low arc.
"You can't take a hit! I'm the tank! Let me fight him!"
Elena jumped, using a burst of wind to propel herself into the air, dodging the massive blade by inches. The wind from the swing whipped her braided hair across her face.
"No!" Elena shouted back, hovering for a split second.
