Lina Ro didn't speak.
She walked to the center of the arena with eyes lowered, hands relaxed. Her posture wasn't passive—it was controlled. Like the silence between lightning and thunder.
Zach nodded once, a gesture of respect.
The crowd was quieter now. Not reverent—more alert. If Kira was all flash and speed, Lina was a whisper in the dark. She didn't even flare her essence when the match started. She just stood there.
Then her domain rippled out like silk.
A flicker of heat shimmered at her feet, but it didn't rise. Instead, it flowed around her like a mirrored tide. Red-orange threads of flame, thin as hair, extended from her limbs—controlled, not chaotic. They didn't lash. They waited.
Zach moved first.
He pushed gravity down slightly as he stepped into range, testing her field. Lina twisted with the pressure like she was born in it. She sidestepped smoothly, flicked one wrist, and a flame-thread snapped toward Zach's thigh.
He blocked it—but not with force. He rotated his core mid-stride and let the thread miss by half an inch. Good choice. I'd seen flame like that before. Dense. Laced with paralytic essence.
Lina flowed behind him in the same motion, whipping a kick toward his shoulder. He caught it and redirected the weight. She didn't fight it—used it. She spun through the air, her hair catching fire mid-rotation as she snapped a crescent arc of flame toward his head.
Zach ducked and released a short gravity pulse.
The crowd flinched as she slammed downward—but landed in a three-point stance, burning threads cushioning her fall.
It was one of the cleanest exchanges I'd seen all day.
"She's good," Deya whispered.
"Really good," Amir muttered.
I nodded silently. It wasn't just power. It was control. She made Zach work.
And he was working. More than before.
Zach adjusted his stance. The air around him bent slightly—his domain pressed down just a bit harder.
Lina didn't respond with force. She walked toward him, calmly, like pressure was an old friend. Then, in a single motion, she raised both hands.
Her domain pulsed—not as a burst, but a lure.
Zach hesitated a beat too long.
Two flame threads lashed forward, one from above, one below—barely visible. He sidestepped the upper one, but the lower snapped against his shin. A small burn sizzled along his pants. He winced. Barely.
But I caught it.
So did Suri, leaning over her platform. "Ohh, she got him."
Elarin smirked faintly. "She measures before she strikes. I like her."
Zena didn't speak. But her eyes were narrowed.
Juno flicked her fan open without saying a word.
Back in the arena, Zach retaliated.
He dropped his weight entirely—his domain compressing to the point that the stone beneath him cracked. Gravity pulled inward, dense enough to distort Lina's movements.
She braced.
He charged.
They met in the middle.
Zach's elbow struck her flame barrier and shattered it on contact. She whipped a flame thread around his neck—but he ducked under it and countered with a shoulder into her ribs.
She didn't fall. She rolled with it, flipped over his back, and landed behind him—but not cleanly. Her ankle skidded, throwing her just slightly off.
Zach seized the moment.
He pivoted hard, swept her legs with a compressed pulse, and planted his palm into her chest. A surge of domain force launched her backward.
She landed hard.
Not out cold. But down.
Still… she smiled.
"Yield," she said gently.
Zach stood breathing just a touch heavier now. He didn't answer, just extended a hand. She took it.
There was applause this time. Light, but real.
"You alright?" I asked him as he returned to our section briefly for water.
He didn't answer right away.
"Getting warm," he said finally.
"You look it," Amir muttered, handing him a cold cloth.
I could see it—his breathing wasn't labored, but it wasn't effortless anymore. His domain had been sharp, clean. But holding back enough not to crush her while still fighting at full speed was draining.
Zach glanced toward the final fighter, already walking to the center of the arena.
Makai Jin.
The one whose gravity domain had been tugging at the world since he first stepped forward.
"Final match," Ronan announced. "Zach Break… vs. Makai Jin."
The crowd hushed.
Even the air felt heavier.
And Zach… rolled his neck once and walked forward without looking at any of us.
He wasn't tired. He wasn't nervous.
He was ready.
But so was Makai.