The air shifted. There was no need for a bell or a signal—Eros' quiet voice was enough.
Eros: "Next match… Maz vs Mona."
Shiebe blinked and turned toward him, brows furrowing slightly as he stepped off the field.
Shiebe: "You really put them against each other?"
Eros didn't respond immediately. He scribbled something in his book, his eyes flicking up only for a second—just long enough to catch the question behind Shiebe's words. A flicker of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, subtle, almost dismissive, but not unkind.
Eros: "It's necessary."
That was all he gave. No explanation, no elaboration. But it was clear he saw something the others didn't.
Shiebe sighed and walked to the side, still catching his breath, sweat cooling on his skin. His eyes stayed on the field, though, knowing this fight would be… something.
Mona was already stepping forward, her strides measured and calm. Maz followed slower, electricity crackling faintly around his hands, shoulders tense like he hadn't truly rested in days.
The distance between them closed. Neither spoke.
Eros watched silently again, book in hand. His pen hovered. The garden seemed to hold its breath.
Maz cracked his knuckles, sparks dancing.
Maz: "…Guess we're doing this."
Mona's answer was silence. She only raised her hand, steady, waiting.
The wind shifted. And just like that, the fight began.
Maz stepped forward, fists clenched tight, electricity flickering faintly across his arms. His voice was low, rough with hesitation.
Maz: "Mona… before we do this, I just want to say—"
Mona: "Save it."
She didn't even glance his way—eyes forward, arms folded. Cold. Final.
Mona: "I'm not interested in whatever half-hearted regret you've come to spit out right before a fight."
Maz flinched, jaw tightening. But this time, he didn't swallow it down. His voice came back—sharper, louder, pissed.
Maz: "You never listen! You never care what I have to say!"
That got her attention. Mona's eyes shifted, meeting his, calm but icy. She didn't blink.
Mona: "Because it's always the same empty talk with you. A storm with no direction."
Maz's aura sparked, blue bolts dancing across his shoulders. His hands flexed at his sides, barely holding it in.
Maz: "You don't know anything about what's in my head. You just shut people out and pretend you're better for it."
Mona: "And you think yelling makes you different? You think you get to throw words around now, after you stayed silent when it actually mattered?"
That one landed. Maz's energy crackled dangerously, the sound sharp like breaking glass. For a second, it felt like the air around them dropped a degree.
On the sideline, Shiebe muttered under his breath.
Shiebe: " It already feels like war…"
Eros leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable but focused, quill hovering just above the page. His gaze stayed locked on the two.
Eros: "Let's see what kind of power words hold… when they're backed by real strength."
And with that, silence fell—tense, heavy, humming with static.
They weren't just opponents anymore.
They were unfinished business.
The silence between them was unbearable.
Maz's breathing had quickened. His fists were still clenched, arms trembling—not from fear, but restraint. For all his rage, some part of him still hesitated. He didn't want to fight her. Not really. Not like this.
But Mona? She didn't flinch.
Mona: "You're too soft for this, Maz. You always were."
And with that, she moved.
No warning. No hesitation.
She rushed forward, low to the ground—quick and sharp like a blade unsheathed. Her palm charged with an invisible force aimed right for his chest.
Maz's eyes widened.
Maz: "Tch—!"
He barely dodged to the side, the edge of her hand grazing his arm. In an instant, he felt it—his electricity wavered, like her touch had snuffed out a fuse inside him.
Maz: "So you can block my Syreum with a touch..."
Mona spun to face him again, her expression still cool, unreadable.
Mona: "And you're slower than I thought."
That was it. The last push.
Maz exhaled sharply, and the hesitation in his stance vanished. His feet dug into the ground, sparks whipping around him like snakes of light.
Maz: "You wanted a fight? Fine. I'll show you what I've been holding back."
He shot forward, not even trying to avoid her anymore. Bolts screamed from his body, hitting the ground around Mona like thunder cracking in a bottle.
She darted left, then right—trying to close the distance for another disabling strike.
Maz didn't let her.
He leapt back and fired a bolt into the sky. It arced downward in a controlled strike, slamming into the dirt in front of Mona, forcing her to retreat.
Maz: "You don't get to shut me down without hearing me out."
Mona: "Then stop whining and fight."
She charged again, this time faster.
Their powers clashed mid-field—her hand connecting with his shoulder, cutting his surge in half. But Maz twisted with the momentum, bringing an electrically charged kick toward her side.
She caught it.
Their eyes locked for a split second—rage and ice.
Eros, scribbling with precision from the edge, smirked faintly without looking up.
Eros (murmuring): "This... is going to be a hard one to judge."
Off to the side, the rest of the group stood in a heavy silence, eyes glued to the clash in front of them.
Shiebe crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed.
Shiebe: "I knew putting them together would get intense, but this is different…"
Julius flinched as another bolt of electricity cracked through the air.
Julius: "They look like they hate each other."
Eros didn't say a word. He simply watched with sharp eyes, tapping the tip of his quill against the page like a ticking clock. Focused. Calm. Intrigued.
Shiebe: "Is this still training, or something personal?"
Eros gave no answer. He didn't need to. The answer hung thick in the air.
Maz and Mona stood apart for a heartbeat, both breathing hard. Dirt and scorch marks stained the ground between them.
Maz's fists glowed faintly with flickering electricity. His shoulders rose and fell like he was holding back more than just power.
Maz: "Are you seriously going to act like nothing happened? Like you didn't walk away and leave me wondering for months?"
Mona rolled her eyes, wiping a smear of dirt from her cheek.
Mona: "Still talking, huh."
Then, without warning, she reached to her back.
The smooth metallic whisper of a blade being unsheathed broke the air like ice cracking.
The others tensed.
A gleaming sword—slim, elegant, and deadly—flashed in Mona's hand, catching the sunlight.
Mona: "Let me show you how I end conversations."
Even Eros looked up at that.
Shiebe took a half-step forward.
Shiebe: "Is she seriously pulling out a sword?!"
Julius: "Is she even allowed to?!"
Eros finally spoke, calm and measured.
Eros: "I said test your strength. Not limit it."
He didn't stop them.
And Mona… she moved forward again, blade lowered, gaze locked on Maz with deadly focus.
Mona lunged forward, fast and sharp like the blade in her hand. Her other hand reached out—fingers spread—aiming for Maz's arm.
She didn't want to hurt him. Not yet.
She just wanted to shut him down.
Her Syreum flared—an invisible force humming around her palm. If she touched him, it would be over. His power would short out, like a switch flipped off.
But Maz wasn't the same as before.
He slid back at the last second, electricity crackling around his feet as he moved. Fluid. Controlled. His dodge was clean.
Mona: "Tch."
Her teeth clenched.
She spun, blade slicing through the air, eyes scanning for a second chance.
Maz: "You're not the only one who's changed."
He said it low, calm—but his tone carried weight.
Mona: "You think dodging means anything? You're just stalling."
Maz: "Or maybe… I'm not playing your game."
Mona's glare sharpened like her blade. Her arm twitched—Syreum still pulsing, eager for contact. But Maz didn't give her the chance.
He stayed just out of reach, always watching, calculating. Waiting.
From the sidelines, Shiebe leaned over to Julius.
Shiebe: "Okay, now it's personal."
Julius: "Y-You think?"
Back in the ring, Mona's patience thinned like a fraying wire.
She stepped in fast again—this time feinting low, then reaching high with her free hand.
But again, Maz shifted—his movement a beat faster than before.
A spark burst from the ground as his heel pivoted. He was getting warmed up.
Mona: "Stop running."
Maz: "Then stop trying to shut me up."
The air between them pulsed with more than just energy now—it was pride, frustration, and things left unsaid.
And neither of them looked like they were backing down.
Maz's eyes narrowed, no more dodging. No more stepping back.
His breath slowed as electricity rippled through his fingers, up his arms, coiling at his shoulders. The ground beneath him gave a faint buzz, like a storm brewing from the soles of his feet.
Maz: "Alright. You want it? You got it."
A sharp crack echoed across the garden as a bolt surged from his palm—not aimed to hit Mona, but close enough to rattle her sword with static. She flinched, just for a second, and that's all Maz needed.
He moved.
Fast.
Faster than he had any right to be. In a blink, he was beside her, another bolt already humming between his fingers. Not for a strike—yet—but a warning shot.
Maz: "I've held back long enough."
Mona gritted her teeth, adjusting her stance, but the charge in the air was messing with her rhythm. Every time she raised her blade, it felt like it twitched the wrong way, drawn to the energy pulsing from him.
Maz: "You think you're the only one hurting?"
Another snap—a bolt zipped past her ear.
Maz: "You shut people out and act like you're the only one who gets to be cold. But I'm done freezing for you, Mona."
Mona didn't answer—not with words. She lunged, her blade swinging up in a wide arc.
Maz ducked low and slammed a palm into the earth. Lightning arced out in a web across the ground, cutting off her footing. She had to leap back or be zapped where she stood.
Shiebe (off to the side): "He's not playing anymore…"
Julius: "They were playing?"
Back in the center, Mona landed in a crouch, panting slightly. Her grip on her sword tightened.
For once, she wasn't just annoyed.
She looked rattled.
Mona: "Fine. Let's see how far you've really come."
And just like that, it wasn't about apologies anymore.
It was war.
Just as Maz readied another bolt in his hand, Mona was already in motion.
Fast.
She closed the distance like a shadow—silent and sharp. Before Maz could react, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other gripping the hilt of her blade.
Mona: "Got you."
In one swift motion, she twisted her body, dragging Maz's weight off balance, and slammed him hard into the dirt. The impact kicked up a cloud of dust, and a sharp grunt escaped Maz's lips as the wind was knocked out of him.
The moment her skin met his, her syreum activated.
Mona: "Your lightning's gone, sparkplug. Ten minutes."
The electric hum that had filled the air vanished, just like that. Maz's eyes widened as he felt the shift inside him — like a light switch being flicked off.
Eros stepped forward, raising one hand.
Eros: "That's enough."
He didn't need to say more. The tension had peaked, and the point was clear.
Maz stared up at the sky, breathing heavily. Defeated—not because he was weaker, but because he got caught slipping.
Eros (scribbling in his book): "Mona wins."
Mona stood, brushing dirt from her uniform like it was nothing. Not a single glance spared for Maz. Not a single word.
Eros (looking at Shiebe): "You're up."
Shiebe blinked, glancing at Mona, then back at Eros.
Shiebe: "Me? Against her?"
Eros: "You're the last one standing. Let's see what you've learned."
Mona rolled her shoulder, cracking her neck to the side with a small smirk.
Mona: "Don't keep me waiting."
Shiebe inhaled deeply, stretching out his arms as three small orbs formed behind him, slowly circling like moons.
Shiebe (quietly): "Alright… Let's do this."
Maz stood slowly, brushing dust from his clothes. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between frustration and numb acceptance. He didn't look at Mona. Didn't glance at Eros or anyone else. Without a word, he turned and walked off the field, the hum of his once-active syreum still absent in the air around him.
Even Shiebe, who had been mentally preparing himself, paused to watch Maz's back as he left.
Shiebe (thinking): He didn't even say anything… Not even to Eros. That must've stung.
Shiebe stepped forward but didn't enter the ring just yet. His heart was beating fast—not from fear, but from uncertainty. He turned his gaze down to his hands, watching the faint glow of his orbs as they orbited him.
Shiebe (thinking): What am I really capable of? I can throw these things around, sure… but is that it?
The memory flashed again—faint, distant. That strange, calm voice in his head… a woman's voice. It hadn't spoken since that night. But it lingered in his mind like a whisper stuck between dreams and reality.
Shiebe (thinking): Was that… part of my syreum too? Or something else entirely?
He looked up. Mona was already in the center of the training field, sword in hand, eyes cold and fixed on him like she'd already decided how this would end.
He took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Shiebe (thinking): Whatever this power is… I'll figure it out. I have to.
Eros (closing his book momentarily): "Begin when ready."
The air was heavy now. The earlier tension between Maz and Mona hadn't lifted—it had simply shifted, settling now between Shiebe and Mona like an invisible pressure.
Shiebe stepped fully into the ring, trying to steady his breathing. Across from him, Mona stood silently, her sword angled low but ready. Her eyes were unreadable—calm, but sharp. Focused.
Shiebe: "I won't hold back… just a heads up."
Mona: "You shouldn't."
There was no flair, no grand declaration—just raw, mutual acknowledgment. Shiebe's hands began to glow as three orbs flickered into existence, spinning slowly around him like quiet sentinels.
Mona moved first. Fast—like a shadow crossing sunlight. She was in front of him in an instant, blade arcing upward.
Shiebe reacted by instinct, leaping back and sending two orbs toward her mid-swing. The first she deflected with her sword, the second exploded just to her left, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Shiebe (thinking): She's faster than I thought…
From the smoke, Mona appeared again, this time flanking him. Shiebe barely spun in time to send an orb her way—forcing her to disengage.
Mona (thinking): He's learned to use them for spacing…
Shiebe backed up, buying himself a second. He was breathing harder now.
Shiebe (thinking): She's probably waiting to touch me—to block my syreum. If that happens… it's game over.
He focused, channeling more energy into a single orb. It grew larger, pulsing with power as he held it at the ready.
Shiebe: "You've got a cool power, Mona… but so do I."
She didn't respond. She just charged again.
Shiebe's vision wavered. His body was exhausted, every movement slower than the last. Mona's relentless strikes pushed him further and further to the edge. He could feel his strength waning, and his thoughts were growing clouded. Focus, focus!
He barely managed to dodge one of Mona's swift strikes, but the next one caught him off guard. The tip of her sword sliced through his side, and pain erupted across his body, sharp and searing. He staggered back, breath coming in ragged gasps.
Before he could even react, the world around him seemed to tilt, and his legs gave way beneath him. His body crashed to the ground, unable to rise. His thoughts were muddled, drifting.
And then, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, he heard it.
A voice.
It was unmistakable—a voice he hadn't heard in days, but one that echoed in his mind as though it had been with him forever.
Voice: It's time.
The words were soft, yet filled with an authority that seemed to echo through the very fabric of his being. Shiebe's eyes fluttered as he tried to stay awake, but it was as if his body was betraying him. His limbs were heavy, his head spinning.
Voice: Time for you and me to meet, Shiebe.
The voice was so clear, so close. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, like the calm before a storm. But there was no room for fear, no space for hesitation. Only... waiting.
Shiebe's head lolled to the side as the world blurred, the pain of his wounds fading away into nothing. His breath became shallow, his heartbeat slow, like the fading echo of a distant drum. He couldn't fight it anymore. The darkness swallowed him whole.
Voice: Rest now... Our meeting has only just begun.
As the last of his consciousness slipped away, Shiebe's mind spiraled into nothingness. The world around him faded, leaving only the voice, pulling him deeper into an unknown abyss.