Nova and Anna stood under the flickering neon lights of the registration center, waiting as the long line crawled forward at a glacial pace.
The air inside the arena's outer lobby was thick with sweat, voices, and the scent of oil and leather.
Dozens of would-be champions loitered nearby—some stretching, others sizing up the competition with narrowed eyes.
Anna glanced at Nova, who hadn't said a word since they stepped inside. His arms were crossed, his foot tapped with irritation, and his expression hadn't changed in the last fifteen minutes.
Eventually, it was their turn.
The booth attendant was a young woman with overly glossy lips and an expression that suggested she was seconds away from falling asleep.
She perked up a little when she saw Nova step forward.
"ID, please."
Without a word, Nova flicked his wrist and summoned the holographic projection Nyx had provided—an identity forged and stored long ago for emergencies like this.
It glowed faintly in the air before the attendant's eyes.
She blinked, squinted, then leaned back in her chair with a syrupy smile.
"Oh dear. This one's... outdated. According to regulation twelve-seven, you need a current ID issued by our central circuit. This version was... let me see... two updates ago?"
Anna stiffened beside him.
She could feel Nova's irritation like a storm building beside her. His eyes narrowed, and she saw the twitch of his fingers. His patience was burning out fast.
Before he could react, Anna stepped forward with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Oh, come on. We've been traveling for a while. Things got hectic. You know how it is."
She said, her voice light and sweet. She slid a small stack of bills across the counter.
The woman glanced down at the money, feigned consideration for a few seconds longer than necessary, then pocketed the bills with the same plastic smile.
"Of course. I completely understand. You're all set now."
Anna nodded gratefully, grabbed Nova's arm, and quickly pulled him away before he could decide to throw the woman through the booth window.
Once they were out of earshot, she let out a breath.
"Do you always look like you're about to blow someone's head off?"
Nova didn't answer.
Anna rubbed her temple.
"Look, scams like that happen all the time. They know you're desperate to get in, and the circuit doesn't exactly pay them well. It's easier to just pay them off and move on."
Still no response.
She sighed.
"Okay, look. Why don't you head to the arena grounds and get a feel for the place? Walk around. Burn off some steam or something."
She glanced up at him, trying to read his expression beneath the mask.
"I'll find us a place to stay nearby. Somewhere low-profile."
Finally, Nova gave a short nod. He said nothing as he turned and walked off toward the inner gates of the arena.
Anna watched him go with a strange mix of exasperation and admiration.
"Seriously. If the whole universe ends one day, it'll probably be because someone gave that man the wrong paperwork."
She muttered under her breath.
Nova walked toward the arena with steady steps, his gaze fixed forward, indifferent to the bustling crowd around him.
His presence, though veiled under the disguise Nyx provided, carried weight—an aura that made people step aside without realizing why.
Behind him, Anna sighed in relief. For once, she hadn't needed to pull him out of a fight or an argument.
But as she watched him disappear into the crowd, a knot of worry began to form in her stomach.
Nova wasn't exactly the most subtle person. His power spoke louder than his words, and his temper wasn't something easily controlled.
If anyone provoked him, things would spiral quickly. But she exhaled and shook her head.
"I'll trust you… this time."
She muttered to herself before turning to find lodging.
______
Nova followed the sound of roaring voices until he reached the outer ring of the arena. The structure loomed like a beast in the center of the city, its steel ribs humming with energy and bloodlust.
The open viewing area allowed citizens to observe ongoing battles without entering the official seating. Nova moved closer, his sharp gaze locking onto the fighters below.
Inside the ring, a brutal match was taking place. A towering lizardman was pummeling a humanoid opponent—a young male, thin and light on his feet, but visibly exhausted.
His breathing was labored, and his movements sluggish from the blood dripping down his temple.
Every time he tried to strike, the lizardman countered with brute strength, knocking him back.
The crowd was eating it up.
"Finish him!"
"Break his spine!"
"Damn hybrids, can't take a hit!"
Nova's eyes narrowed slightly. He watched the humanoid struggle to rise again, only to be slammed back into the ground with a sickening crunch.
The announcer's voice boomed overhead, calling the crowd to place last-minute bets.
As the lizardman raised a clawed fist to end the match, Nova's attention was pulled to the side by a voice.
"Hey! You there! You look like one of them human-hybrids, right?"
A gruff man said, approaching him. He looked Nova up and down with a mix of curiosity and greed.
Nova's gaze shifted lazily to the man, but he said nothing.
The man took his silence as permission to continue.
"You interested in earning some quick coin? Got good reflexes? If you can take a few hits and put on a show, you'll have people throwing money your way. Hell, that kid down there's getting his skull caved in, but at least he'll get paid for it and he'll live as well…just not as well as before."
Nova turned back to the arena without acknowledging the man.
"Suit yourself. But don't be shocked when people keep calling your kind weak. It's just nature."
The recruiter said with a shrug.
Another cheer erupted from the crowd as the lizardman roared in triumph, standing over the crumpled form of the humanoid.
The announcer declared the match over and called for the next contestants to prepare.
Nova watched the medical staff drag the battered fighter out of the arena. His fingers twitched slightly, the aether inside his body stirring at the sight.
Weak?
No.
Nova didn't speak, but a cold fire flickered behind his eyes. The world was far too used to mistaking silence for submission—and mistaking restraint for weakness.
He turned from the railing and walked toward the sign-up area for challengers.
The organizer looked Nova up and down with mild interest, chewing on the end of a toothpick as he leaned against the sign-up booth.
"You here to fight too?"
He asked, nodding toward the arena where the crowd was still roaring from the last brutal match.
Nova gave a single nod.
"Yes."
The man let out a sharp laugh.
"Didn't peg you for the suicidal type. But hey, you've got that quiet-crazy look about you."
He straightened, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
"Tell you what. We've got something special. Life-and-death matches. Sign the waiver, fight without limits. You lose, you might not walk out. But the payout? Triple."
He pushed forward a tablet, expecting Nova to hesitate or walk away like the others usually did.
Instead, Nova scanned the document once, pressed his thumb to the screen, and stepped back.
"Done."
The organizer blinked, stunned.
"Wait—you're actually doing it?"
Nova didn't reply. He just turned his gaze toward the arena entrance.
The man scratched his head, whistling low.
"Damn. Either you've got a death wish… or you're about to be my best show this week."