("The ultimate goal of evolution is the attainnt of perfect beauty, without which this world is not worth existing.")
At the announcent of his na, Kritos made his way toward the arena of fire.
As he crossed it, there was no heat, no sensation. An illusion, he might have thought, if it weren’t for Gramm’s will not to reduce him to ashes before those flas.
He didn’t have ti to linger and observe the ring.
His opponent was already there, wearing an expression just as neutral and unreadable as his own.
Kritos’ gaze then fell upon Sirius’ appearance: ssy cyan hair, one missing arm, an ordinary yet strangely elegant deanor, and an aura that seed unremarkable at first glance.
He might have been mistaken, thinking Sirius was nothing more than that... if he hadn’t had the opportunity to heal him and thus study his body down to the smallest detail.
("A true diamond, carefully sculpted, and yet nothing about it shows.")
Casting a glance at Iris, he couldn’t help but wonder:
("Who could have given birth to such twins? A single human lifeti would not be enough for to fully dissect them.")
Few specins had ever stirred Kritos’ curiosity to such an extent. Now, he only had one desire: to see what this confrontation had in store for him.
And he didn’t have to wait long.
Sirius made the first move.
He closed the distance between them, advancing with a slow, relaxed step until he stood still before Kritos. Only a few centiters separated them.
Kritos was intrigued by this strategy... until he felt a faint tickle in his chest, followed by the sound of a thick, reddish liquid dripping onto the ground.
His hand instinctively moved to the wound.
There... where a sword was now embedded.
Sirius was still staring straight into his eyes, wearing the sa expression. He could have seed innocent... if his hand hadn’t been firmly gripping the hilt of the blade lodged in Kritos’ chest.
"Incredible..." Kritos murmured before collapsing backward.
He hadn’t felt any threat, any killing intent, any danger... until he saw the wound with his own eyes.
His blood began to spill rapidly.
His breathing grew heavy, slow.
Sirius then turned his back on him, his face marked by slight disappointnt, as if he had expected more from this fight.
But unlike him, Kritos did not share that feeling.
Lying on the ground, he understood what had just happened.
Sirius’ nonchalance had, without him realizing it, lowered his guard just enough. Sirius had taken advantage of it to deliver a fatal strike, with reflexes, speed, and composure worthy of a seasoned assassin.
Kritos would have called him a genius for that alone.
And yet... there was sothing even more unsettling.
("He had no intention of killing .")
That realization sent a thrill of excitent through him.
("Our fight cannot end like this.")
>
A pulse ran through his entire body.
He spat out black blood... then stood up.
"You diverted your blade from my heart at the last mont, piercing only my right lung.
If I were an ordinary human, even an average initiate, this wound would have certainly taken out of the fight... but I could have been saved with rapid dical intervention."
Those words, spoken aloud, made Sirius stop just as he was about to leave the arena.
When he turned around, he was surprised to see Kritos standing again.
"I owed you a favor for healing . Consider it repaid."
Kritos pulled the sword out of his chest in one firm motion, then tossed it to Sirius, who caught it.
"Very fine material, this sword."
"Thanks," Sirius replied.
A silence settled.
The two opponents remained still, asuring each other once again, while the spectators could feel the pressure rising.
As if the slightest breath could shatter this fragile calm and give way to violence... to the horror of a clash between two beings whose boundary between good and evil was defined only by their own logic.
Kritos slowly closed his eyes.
He let his body be flooded by the surrounding stimuli the diffuse heat, the coldness of his own body, the sound of his blood flowing through his veins...
He completely surrendered to his senses.
So when Sirius attacked again...
His reflexes warned him.
The blade missed him, leaving only a light scratch on his shoulder.
But if he thought for a mont he had escaped... Sirius had not revealed everything yet.
>
The sword seed to implode.
An explosion violently hurled him backward, while fragnts tore into him from all sides.
Kritos didn’t even have ti to catch his breath.
Sirius was already upon him.
His fist slamd into his stomach, unleashing a dull, brutal pain.
Kritos dropped to his knees.
Sirius looked down at him.
"What if you stopped pretending?"
Kritos’ eyes widened.
"How...?" he let out, deeply shocked.
Sirius sighed, visibly annoyed.
"You don’t teach an old monkey to make faces. What you’re doing, I’ve done hundreds of tis. You observe how I fight, you analyze my resonance, you study the way I think... You let grow confident until I lower my guard just a little."
He scratched his head.
"Put like that... I almost feel sorry for everyone I’ve done this to."
"Hm... hm..."
Kritos couldn’t help but let out a faint laugh.
"So this is the first ti I try deception... and I get caught imdiately. How unfortunate. I would have liked to gather more data... but oh well."
He paused.
Then he smiled.
A smile that, sohow, wasn’t one at all.
"Don’t lose too quickly... and above all, don’t die," he muttered.
His scarlet eyes briefly glowed.
At those words, Sirius’ heart skipped a beat.
His instinct scread.
Imminent danger.
He leapt backward to create distance.
But it was already too late.
His speed exceeded anything Sirius had anticipated.
A hand brushed against his body.
Thin red sparks burst forth.
>
"AAAAH!"
Sirius scread.
He clutched his stomach.
No visible wound.
But the pain... unbearable.
As if his body were being twisted from within.
Tears stread down his face.
Blood gushed from his nose.
He collapsed, rolling on the ground like a child.
Iris and Lucy froze, in shock.
They had never seen him react like this.
Not even the worst tortures he had endured had ever torn such a scream from him.
Kritos observed the scene with fascinated attention.
The balance of power had reversed.
Now, Sirius was on the ground.
And he... stood above him.
"Will you evolve... or die as if your life were no longer worth existing?"
A smile slowly stretched across his face.
"I can’t wait to see the answer, Sir-i-us."
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