The gate's silence cracked.
Something stepped into the arena, its form barely tethered to reality. At first, it looked human — tall, gaunt, its body veiled in smoke. But when it moved, its limbs bent too far, too fluid, like bones had been broken and rearranged a thousand times. Its face was a mask of bone-white porcelain, split down the center with a crack that leaked pale light.
The faceless crowd screamed, stamping their formless feet against the stone terraces. Their shrieks sounded like blades grinding against one another, eager, starving.
From his throne above, Hades raised a hand. His voice rolled out like thunder across the pit.
"Begin."
The figure blurred.
Kairo barely saw it move before the world tilted. An impact slammed into his chest, throwing him across the sand. He struck a pillar of bone and slid down, his ribs screaming, his chains rattling at his sides.
The whispers inside him surged.
"Faster than you."
"You will need us."
"Let us out."
He pushed himself up, crimson eyes narrowing. Across the arena, the shadow-figure tilted its head as though mocking him. Its crack widened, the pale light spilling brighter.
In the stands, Igron leaned forward. His armor caught the glow of the torches, his face twisted into something between amusement and disdain.
"He moves like a corpse dragged by willpower alone," Igron said. His voice carried, meant for Hades to hear. "How long until he breaks?"
But Hades did not look at him. His gaze never left Kairo.
"Watch. He does not break. He resists."
The figure vanished again. Sand hissed as the air warped. This time, Kairo turned — his shackled wrist catching the strike. Sparks exploded as the shadow's blade-arm skidded off iron. The force drove him backward, heels grinding trenches in the sand.
The crowd shrieked louder, sensing blood.
The mask cracked further. The light inside pulsed like a heartbeat. And with every pulse, the voices in Kairo's head grew sharper.
"That light is ours."
"Rip it out."
"We will feed on it together."
Kairo's jaw clenched. He forced the whispers down, but his body trembled, not entirely his own. He drove his palm into the figure's chest. The sand rippled outward, air concaving with the blow. The figure flew back, smashing into the arena wall.
A pause. Dust drifted.
Then the shadow rose again, more twisted than before. Its mask split completely, revealing a hollow void leaking blinding light. Its movements grew jagged, erratic — like a reflection unraveling.
From the stands, Igron barked a laugh.
"Good! Let it carve him apart! This is what happens when mortals defy gods."
Hades' voice cut through, cold and unshaken.
"No. This is what happens when gods fear a mortal."
The crowd fell into a frenzy, howling for the kill. The figure lunged again, faster, brighter, claws of light reaching for Kairo's throat.
And for the first time, Kairo felt his body move before his will commanded it. His hand lashed out — not his hand, but something deeper, older. His crimson eyes flared, silver threads in his hair pulsing with a violent rhythm.
The whispers roared as one.
"Yes. Break it."
The arena trembled.