The battlefield was a warzone. Blood stained the churned ground, its copper scent hanging heavy in the air. Bodies littered the field like discarded dolls, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. The atmosphere was thick with exhaustion and tension, the ragged breathing of survivors mingling with soft moans of the wounded. Of the original 750 competitors, only 200 remained standing amidst the carnage.
At this stage, brute strength wasn't enough. It was about survival.
Raiden & Hiro's Survival Strategy
Raiden crouched low behind a ruined stone pillar, the rough surface pressing into his back as dust cascaded from its crumbling surface. Watching the battlefield unfold through his sightless eyes, he sensed the electrical signatures of everyone around him. Hiro and Josuke flanked him, their glowing licenses marking them prime targets, the golden light pulsing against their skin like beacons in the dimness.
"As long as we survive," Raiden said, his tone measured, the faint scent of ozone emanating from his body, "we progress. No need to fight unless absolutely necessary."
Josuke wiped the sweat from his brow, the salty droplets stinging his eyes as he still adjusted to how ruthless this trial was. "Survive? Yeah, tell that to the lunatic tearing through competitors."
Hiro smirked, his amphibian-like features stretched into a grin, his moist skin catching the light in an unsettling gleam. "I might be our best shot at stalling him."
Josuke frowned, the caffeine in his system making his heart race uncomfortably. "How the hell do you plan to stall that psycho?"
Hiro flexed his fingers, webbing briefly visible between them. "Simple. I don't stay dead."
Across the battlefield, Hiro spotted his target.
Gojima, the Axe-Wielder stood amidst the chaos. His tank-like build was imposing, broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms visible beneath his armor plates. Silent and calculating, Gojima's eyes were cold beneath his helmet, scanning the field methodically. His massive frame cast a long shadow across the ground, his armor catching the light with a dull gleam, the weight of his presence alone making other competitors give him a wide berth.
The axe came down. A delayed swing. The blade seemed to lag behind the movement, leaving a trail of distorted air in its wake.
Hiro dodged—the ground where he stood splitting open with a thunderous crack—
SHINK!
A delayed slash ripped through space, severing Hiro's arm clean from his body. The limb fell to the ground with a wet thud, blood spraying from the stump in an arterial arc.
Josuke recoiled, horror etched on his face, bile rising in his throat. "Holy—!"
Raiden didn't flinch, his face impassive beneath his blindfold. "Relax. He's fine."
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Hiro's arm regrew instantly, bone extending from the stump followed by muscle tissue and skin flowing over it like water, the entire process taking mere seconds.
Gojima exhaled sharply, a plume of condensation escaping his helmet. "Annoying."
His attention shifted—to a wind user nearby who manipulated the air into lethal blades.
The wind user grinned, teeth flashing white against his dirt-streaked face. "A challenge, huh?"
Their battle erupted into a storm of clashing elements, the air itself distorting around them.
Hiro walked back toward Raiden and Josuke, completely unfazed, not a speck of blood remaining on his regenerated limb. "Told you. Don't stay dead."
Josuke paled, his stomach churning. What kind of monsters am I working with?
Raiden barely had time to let Josuke recover when—
A speed-blitz attack came out of nowhere.
A flurry of sword swings crashed down, metal whistling through the air, the glint of blades almost too fast to see.
Raiden reacted instantly—electricity arcing across his skin—he grabbed Josuke and dashed away at blinding speed, the scent of ozone filling the air around them.
A figure landed smoothly, blade in hand, the impact cracking the ground beneath his feet. Bernard, the Blitzkrieg, stood before them with calculated poise, his movements precise and controlled. His voice was calm, detached. "No matter what, I need to progress."
Then—he attacked again, his body becoming little more than a blur.
Raiden barely dodged each sword strike, the blades missing him by millimeters, slicing through strands of his hair. The thunderous crackling of his lightning responded to each of Bernard's movements.
But—
Bernard ignored Josuke.
Raiden began matching his sword and attacks blow for blow. Raiden grabbed Bernard's sword upon it swinging toward him. He turned and planted his feet, sending electricity into the metal blade, thus stunning the swordsman. Before Raiden could make his next move, Josuke moved behind the attacker.
He placed his palm lightly on the back of Bernard's head, the heat from his hand making his hair sizzle slightly.
His concept activated.
The fighter's head heated by 5 degrees, a faint steam rising from his scalp.
At first—nothing.
Then—
- Dizziness overtook him, his eyes losing focus.
- Body overheating, a flush spreading across his visible skin.
- Unsteady breath, coming in ragged gasps.
Bernard staggered, his body wobbling—then collapsed in a heap onto the dirt, his sword clattering beside him.
Raiden stared in disbelief, his blind eyes widening behind his mask. Raiden asked what his concept was. Mind control, telepathy, genjutsu? Josuke arrogantly replies, "I can increase the temperature of whatever I touch by 5 degrees exactly! Isn't it great!" Raiden looked so confused, his mouth slightly agape, clearly questioning how such a simple concept could be so effective.
Raiden stepped forward, the dust settling around them. "Take his license. You earned it."
Josuke hesitated, looking down at the defenseless fighter, Bernard's chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
Then he shook his head. "Nah."
Raiden frowned. "Why not?"
Josuke sighed, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "He fought to survive. He didn't try to kill us. He deserves to keep going."
Raiden studied him, then exhaled, a small smile tugging at his lips. "That's noble. But don't expect the world to be noble with you."
Josuke swallowed, the metallic taste of blood and dust coating his tongue. He knew Raiden was right.
Final Countdown -- 5 Minutes Left
The battlefield was now split—
- The final push for survival began, the desperation tangible in the air.
- The rest of the participants can relax and wait the five minutes, but those enthralled with fighting continue their fights, the clash of weapons and concepts creating a symphony of violence.
- Gojima, who was slaughtering a bulk of the competition with rhythmic precision, and The Wind User, who snatched licenses from the skies with gusts that cut like knives, the battle ensues between them, the very air distorting with their power.
From afar, Haikito watches with piercing blue eyes that seem to glow in the dimness, his lips curved into a satisfied smile—not only at the competitors fighting for the thrill of war but also with Rei's progress versus Kage. Haikito begins walking towards the battlefield with measured steps, the ground seeming to tremble slightly beneath his polished shoes, knowing he will need to get involved shortly.