The roar of the crowd was deafening.
Confetti cannons fired into the air, streamers raining down across the packed stadium as Phase 3 officially came to a close. I stood among the remaining 32 contestants, breathing hard but standing tall. The massive holo-screen overhead displayed the surviving fighters—my name, Astrid's, Jay's—all etched in glowing letters.
Above it, the announcer's voice boomed with theatrical pride:
"PHASE THREE… COMPLETE! 64 entered the Gauntlet of Survival, but only 32 survived! Give it up for our warriors!"
The crowd erupted, stomping, cheering, chanting names.
From the stands, I saw him—Kuro, waving his arms wildly, a wide grin splitting his face.
"YEAH! THAT'S MY BOY!" he shouted, voice carrying even through the noise. "CONGRATS, TAREK! AND YOU TOO, ASTRID!"
I smirked behind my mask, shaking my head.
Astrid stood beside me, adjusting her gloves with her usual composure. "He's loud," she murmured.
"Loud," I agreed, glancing up at Kuro's waving form, "but loyal."
Kuro cupped his hands and bellowed again, "BRING HOME THAT TROPHY FOR ME, WILL YA?!"
I gave him a thumbs-up, and he punched the air, laughing like he'd won himself. For someone who'd already been eliminated, Kuro was having the time of his life.
Fireworks lit the sky as the announcer continued:
"REST WELL, WARRIORS! FOR TOMORROW, PHASE FOUR BEGINS!"
I exhaled slowly. Tomorrow…
I left the arena with Astrid and jay, but while they walked ahead, I noticed something strange. Down in the tunnel beneath the stands, out of view of the roaring crowd… a shadow moved.
Kuro was still in the stands, cheering and waving, completely oblivious to the figure slowly circling beneath him.
I narrowed my eyes. That presence… cold and sharp like a blade sliding across the back of my neck.
But when I blinked, it was gone.
Hours later, I returned to my hotel room. My muscles ached from the Gauntlet, my mind replaying every blow, every tactic. I barely made it to the bed before collapsing backward.
"Phase 4…" I muttered to myself. "What's next? What else can they throw at us?"
I stared up at the ceiling, feeling my heartbeat slow.
Maybe tonight I can actually sleep…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My eyes shot open.
The sound came again—a knock on the window.
I sat up instantly, reaching for the blade at my bedside. Slowly, I approached the curtains and yanked them open—
And froze.
Lucien stood there.
Hood drawn low, rain dripping from the fabric, his sharp-toothed grin wider than ever. His piercing blue eyes glowed faintly in the dark. He raised his hand and tapped the glass again, mouthing two words that made my stomach drop:
"Missed me?"
I slammed the window open, blade raised, but he was already gone.
"Over here."
His voice came from behind me.
I spun, weapon ready—but Lucien was lounging casually in the chair across the room, boots kicked up on the table as if he'd been there all along.
"Relax," he said smoothly, hands folded.
I sighed. "What do you want, Lucien?"
He tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Straight to business? No reunion talk?" He gave a mock sigh. "Fine. I came to warn you, little brother."
My grip on my sword tightened. "Brother?"
Lucien chuckled. "Not in the way you think. But blood calls to blood, tarek or should i say mydeimos … and you and I? We share more than you realize."
mydeimos....that name how does he-
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Kuro is the key," he whispered.
I froze.
"What did you say?"
Lucien's grin widened, sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. "They planning to marked him, With a sigil. Once he is mark, he'll be nothing more than a vessel. And then the Demon King will rise through him."
My chest went cold.
"Kuro doesn't even know," Lucien continued. "But I do. I've been watching from the shadows… and so has he."
Suddenly, Lucien's eyes unfocused, and I realized he wasn't fully here. His voice dropped into a low, almost reverent tone.
"Yes, my lord," he murmured. "I understand…I return immediately."
I stepped forward sharply. "Lucien! Who are you talking to?"
He blinked once, then smirked, looking at me like I was a child who didn't understand the rules of the game.
"You'll see soon enough," he said. "Tomorrow, Phase 4 begins. Watch closely, mydeimos. Watch how easily even the strongest fall."
He stood, brushing himself off.
"But don't worry," he added, heading toward the window. "When it's your turn, I'll make it quick."
"Oh, before I forget, take these custom-made dragon daggers, they're gonna help you in the future."
I was going to say something
But Lucien dissolved into mist, vanishing into the night.
Below the arena, in the hidden tunnels, ??? stepping into the ritual chamber. The sigils glowed brighter than ever, illuminating his sharp smile.
He approached a bound, unconscious figure—one of the missing contestants—and dragged him across the floor, laying him over the circle.
"It's almost time, my king," he whispered. "Phase 4 will be the harvest."
The bound man stirred awake just in time to see ??? sharp teeth glint.
"Don't worry," ??? cooed, pressing his claws to his throat. "You're just one of many gifts for the Demon King."
Above, thunder cracked in the night sky.