The final needle found its mark.
Four mosquitoes. Four kills. No bites.
Dirga exhaled a slow, hissing breath between his teeth, the tension bleeding from his shoulders only slightly.
"Really, Sasa?" he muttered, eyes still scanning the edges of the arena. "Even during rest?"
Above him, Sasa's voice drifted down, sugar-sweet and insufferably smug.
"Oh come now, Dirga. What's a rest if your senses go dull?" A lazy pause. "The whole point is to keep them sharp."
Dirga didn't argue. He couldn't. The logic was maddening — but undeniable.
His gaze rose toward the illusory sky.
08:47.
Still time on the countdown.
But not peace.
Sasa descended from above like a cloud made of mischief, lounging midair as if supported by invisible silk. He reclined with all the flair of a bored nobleman watching a circus.
"But!" he chirped suddenly, voice rising like a bell toll in a quiet room, "I do have some good news!"
Dirga didn't respond. Just narrowed his eyes, already bracing.
Sasa floated upright, arms wide like a game show host announcing a grand prize.
"When you reach Match 100 — drumroll, please — you get to face a boss."
He grinned like a devil dangling a contract.
"If you win, you earn a full day of rest. One day! No fights, no mosquito torture, and yes — food, water, even dessert. On. The. House." He gave a theatrical wink. "I call it… the Heaven Round."
Dirga chewed another bite of hard bread. Dry. Tasteless. Functional.
The timer above ticked down with no mercy.
08:39.
"…So I just have to win 49 more," he muttered under his breath.
From nowhere, Sasa produced a crimson drink in a floating glass — glowing faintly like it was alive — and slurped from a bendy straw with cartoonish joy.
"Mhm," he said around the straw. "Easy, right?"
Dirga didn't answer.
He clenched his fist instead, and the six hovering needles began to hum, shimmering in midair.
With a silent pulse, they dissolved — melting back into the Crimson Core in his palm like droplets of red mercury returning to the whole.
It pulsed once in his grip.
Warm. Responsive. Alive.
And ready for the next fight.
…
And for the next 49 rounds,
Dirga fought like a demon possessed.
Monster after monster poured out of Sasa's infernal portals — each a different nightmare pulled from the edges of myth and madness.
A reptilian beast, like a Komodo dragon the size of a truck, armored in obsidian scales.
A werewolf with glowing yellow eyes and claws like sabers.
A minotaur that shook the ground with each step, swinging a blood-soaked axe the size of a car door.
A rotting zombie swarm that hissed like boiling oil.
An oni with red skin, two horns, and a grin full of jagged iron teeth.
Too many to name. Too many to count.
But Dirga won.
Every. Single. Time.
He fought like someone with nothing left to lose — and everything left to protect.
But the victories were not clean.
Wounds painted his body like war tattoos.
Long slashes across his ribs.
Claw marks down his arms.
Bruises, burns, bone-deep exhaustion.
And then — the mosquitoes.
By the sixth day, there were six of them, always hovering just out of reach, waiting for a lapse in focus. Camouflaged. Patient. Vicious.
In the middle of battle, Dirga often didn't have the energy to track them.
So he let them bite.
The pain was hellish — like being injected with boiling needles.
But better that than taking a sword to the stomach, a claw to the throat, or a bat to the spine.
Still, if he could sense them — if even one came into range during a lull — he killed it. Always.
Now, finally, after the 99th match…
Dirga stood, barely.
His body a canvas of wounds, dried blood flaking from his skin. Fresh cuts stung with every breath. His sweat smelled like rust and smoke.
But he was still standing.
Status: 60 minutes of rest. 5 meals. 5 waters.
The arena cracked and hissed beneath him, still steaming from the corpse of the last opponent — a giant armored golem whose death had shaken the entire dimension.
Dirga slumped down, panting hard.
"Rest, Sasa," he said hoarsely. "All of it. Just… use it."
His voice was dry, his lips split, blood smearing the corners of his mouth.
From above, Sasa floated down, still grinning like a devil in a velvet chair.
"As you wish, my patron," he said, and with a snap of his fingers — the arena went dark.
Soft.
Still.
Safe.
Dirga collapsed.
No fancy pose. No heroic gesture.
Just a man falling backward, eyes closing before his head even touched the ground.
And finally — mercifully — sleep took him.
Deep and dreamless.
Because next… was match 100.
And the boss was waiting.
…
But the world didn't pause just because Dirga closed his eyes.
The mosquitoes came.
Silent. Swift. Six of them — no, seven. Eight.
Drawn by the stillness of his body. The scent of exhaustion. The weakness.
They darted from the shadows, wings whispering death.
But something stirred before they could strike.
The Crimson Core.
The dice hummed in the dirt beside Dirga's outstretched hand. It vibrated like it sensed a threat — then pulsed once with eerie red light.
And then —
Shhhk.
Ten needles erupted from its form, forged in a blink from the cube's shifting body. They hovered in the air like a swarm of blades, each one humming with violent intent.
The mosquitoes struck.
But the needles were faster.
Fffffwhip! Thuk. Thuk. Thuk.
One by one, the mosquitoes were impaled mid-flight. Some burst into sparks, others sizzled with venom, their invisibility undone by the Crimson Core's vigilance.
The last needle spun in place — then dove into the final mosquito with surgical precision.
Silence returned.
The needles floated a moment longer… then melted back into the dice.
The Crimson Core landed softly beside Dirga's hand, buzzing faintly — not with aggression, but comfort.
Like a cat purring beside its master.
It had protected him.
Without command. Without hesitation.
From his seat in the sky, Sasa watched — eyes narrowing.
"Well now…" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "That… is interesting."
His smile widened, but it was no longer playful.
It was calculating.
"There's a bond forming between that boy… and that weapon."
He tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming like twin suns.
"Let's see how far it goes."