The arena's loud buzz began to subside, the echoes of the battle between Iris and Mira still lingering in the air. The dust from the arena floor settled slowly, and the crowd, still caught in the aftershocks of the spectacular fight, murmured among themselves. It was a strange silence that followed the chaos—tense, expectant, and full of anticipation for the next wave of battles.
Orion stood among his cohort, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. His eyes were on Iris, who stood a little apart from the rest, her rapier sheathed with a kind of quiet pride, her eyes distant as though still processing the battle.
The announcer's voice, rich with authority, boomed once again, cutting through the arena's lingering tension.
"With that, the first round of the tournament has concluded. The victors will advance, but before the second round begins, there will be a brief interlude of two days. This time is allotted for you all to rest, recover, and prepare for what lies ahead. Rest well, for the battles to come will test not only your strength but your will."
The crowd erupted into applause at the announcement of the break, some cheering and others murmuring about the next phase of the tournament. A brief, much-needed pause in the action. But for those who had fought, it was a fleeting moment to catch their breath before the storm resumed.
Orion exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of both the external and internal battles press in on him. Two days. That was all the time they had. His thoughts wandered briefly to the Hollow Star, the cold weight of its presence still lingering in the back of his mind, like a shadow stalking him, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"Two days," Azrael muttered beside him, his voice low. "Enough time to plan… or to lose ourselves."
Serah's fiery gaze flicked to the announcer's stand. "I'll be ready for whatever comes next," she said, her tone carrying the edge of someone who thrived in battle.
Iris's smile was faint but genuine, though her eyes remained distant, unfocused. Her victory had been earned, yes, but she hadn't escaped unscathed. The battle had taken something from her, too—perhaps more than anyone could see on the surface.
"Iris," Orion said, stepping closer to her. "You fought well."
Iris's gaze met his, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something—gratitude, understanding, maybe even vulnerability. She nodded quietly, the weight of the moment pressing on her too.
"Thanks, Orion," she replied, her voice steady but quiet. "I wasn't sure I'd pull through, but… you know. I had to."
"You always do," Azrael added, his voice soft yet tinged with respect. His eyes, usually so reserved, held a quiet approval.
The group stood together for a moment, letting the stillness of the arena wrap around them, each lost in their thoughts.
Then the sound of footsteps approaching broke the moment. A figure appeared from the shadows of the arena, and the familiar form of Lirael emerged—her expression unreadable as she walked toward them. Her clothes were tattered from the battle, and there was a faint bruise on her cheek, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable.
"You were incredible," Lirael said to Iris, her tone more than just polite—there was a flicker of genuine admiration there, though it was fleeting. "I didn't think anyone would be able to overcome Mira's speed and precision. But you… you did."
Iris tilted her head slightly, offering a slight smile. "Thanks. It wasn't easy."
Lirael's gaze shifted toward Orion. There was something in her look—an unspoken understanding, a connection forged in battle. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment too long before she spoke again, her voice more somber this time.
"Two days… it's a brief respite, but we're not the only ones taking the break. Everyone will be preparing. The second round won't be like the first. It'll be even harder."
Orion nodded. He knew. They'd all known.
"We'll be ready," he said, though his voice was quieter now, as if the weight of the coming battles was pressing on him more than he cared to admit.
And so the first day of the interlude began—a strange mixture of rest and preparation. The cohort members would scatter to their corners, to their rooms and chambers, each trying to shake off the fatigue of the first round, but also preparing themselves for what the next round would bring.
Orion, however, couldn't shake the feeling that this time wouldn't be so simple. There was something in the air, something ominous that tugged at him. It was more than just the Hollow Star. It was the rising tide of something darker—something waiting in the wings.
As the cohort dispersed, Orion found himself walking alone toward the quiet solitude of his chambers. The corridors of the arena complex were eerily silent, the noise of the crowd muffled by thick stone walls. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to rest, to step away from the constant battle of mind and body. But even in the quiet, the weight of the looming storm pressed against him.
Two days.
It wasn't nearly enough time to prepare for everything that was coming.
The crowd had already begun to disperse, the grand arena emptying in waves of murmured speculation and lingering awe. But within the inner circle—where the Cohorts gathered behind veils of crystal and shadow—tension still lingered.
Orion exhaled slowly, the aftershocks of the final match still reverberating in his bones. Iris had stood tall under pressure, but he could see the faint tremble in her fingers, the way she flexed her hand when she thought no one was looking.
She caught him watching.
"I'm fine," she said quietly. "Just… a lot."
"You were brilliant," Serah added, tossing a flask of cold water toward her. "And terrifying. Mira didn't even know which frequency to scream at by the end."
Azrael nodded. "Her rhythm was broken the moment you made her listen to herself."
"I had to be careful," Iris murmured. "Too much sound, and I would've unraveled too."
They walked the long corridor back to their wing of the academy, torchlight casting long, flickering shadows on the stone walls. The excitement of the crowd was behind them, but something heavier had settled in the air—a sense of gravity. The second round was no longer some far-off event. It was real, and it was coming fast.
The four of them entered their shared training hall, the doors whispering shut behind them.
Orion sat on the steps near the central dais and looked up at the dome above, where false constellations danced slowly in shifting colors. Selene's light was faint tonight. She hadn't spoken in hours.
Azrael leaned against the far pillar, silent as usual. He hadn't said much since his own match. When Orion had pressed earlier, he'd just muttered: "The Void never sleeps."
Serah began to pace.
"Let's not pretend this break is a gift," she muttered. "It's just enough time for us to worry. And overthink. And guess who's fighting who."
"You think the brackets are already decided?" Orion asked.
Serah shrugged. "They knew who was going to win half of those fights before they even started. They're watching how we tick. We're just pieces in a game."
"I'm fine being a piece," Iris said, voice low, "as long as I can choose how I'm played."
A long pause.
Then, Azrael finally spoke, eyes still fixed on the wall. "They'll pit us against each other. Eventually."
No one responded.
The silence wrapped around them like a second skin.
And then—
A chime echoed through the chamber. A sound only the Cohorts heard—clear, crystalline, and final.
A message shimmered to life in the center of the room. Text formed in glowing letters of starlight.
SECOND ROUND INITIATES IN 48 HOURS. NEW BRACKETS TO BE UNVEILED TOMORROW.
Underneath it:
Prepare accordingly.