Zeke - Arena 1
Throb... throb...
It was utterly miserable.
He fought. He burned. His dying hand even moved to reach out to her. But he couldn't defend against the kick. Even the heat that smoldered her was nothing more than a cheap shot. He could take no pride in that. Such was the difference between the two. Thus, the kick connects.
Thus, the kick impacts.
Need... to cling on... the heart... must salvage the heart...!
His back crashed against another pole, molding it like play dough with a booming crash. Smoke seeped from the area she kicked... shockingly, his forearm. Had he blocked it? No, that couldn't be right. It must have been a fluke. His bruised, broken arm was enough of a tell. As a martial astist, he stood no chance against Valerie. But he didn't mind. He smiled.... sincerely at her. That must have been the emotion she glimpsed before.
And there was silence.
But the moment he heard the jeers of the audience, his face darkened. It was small, lifeless as he was... but his brow twitched. How dare they look down on his opponent like this? And how dare they-
"Shut up." 'He' didn't speak per say, but the darkness utterly shouted these words in the coldest, calmest manner. Chillingly. The vampire lord might think for a second he was talking to her, but shockingly, his dark gaze immediately shot back at his own fake followers. Those miserable, complacent humans. "Don't you dare command me, vermin. If you want a miracle, fight for it in the ring with your own hands. Bleed and die for it like a real man. But don't expect my actions to save you. I fight for my own sake, and mine alone."
Within the audience
A lone man of ash watched down the fight, observing it. Frankly, even he thought he had little chance against Valerie. He would know better than anyone. But somehow, beyond his own schemes of expectations... these words resonated with him.
Reached him.
...hey.
"I know."
It wasn't a vampire king, his master, a dojo master... not even Eruaviel or Amanda had reached through that man's heart. They hadn't touched his feelings.
It was a single human. He managed to strip an inch of that grinning veneer. What was beyond it... was surely a monster.
Yet it felt human.
Right now, a dark shell of a man rose and struggled, spewing that same ooze painfully. But it looked at his opponent in earnest. Another dark shell of a woman. And to her, he smiled just like before... only to stumble back and gasp.
"Even if I could be a good boy, that isn't what this world needs right now. This system of conformity... of complacency... don't you see how it has poisoned humans full of potential?" He waved his hand, filled with the black ooze he spewed, and grinned. He grinned to those pathetic wretches in the arena, then his own torn heart. The darkness that threatened to consume. No... it was bubbling. Dark organisms were being born and killed simply to create a new, false heart. A string to anchor him, no matter how fragile it was. But it was clear that those slashes were fatal, that it was all just borrowed time.
But his eyes burned. They burned with the same smile. It had no doubts about its path. Like a burning black sun. It reached for everything around him, searing it in its evil radiance. It wouldn't stop until it died, even after it died. Even though he nearly fell to his knees, the temperature was somehow slowly... immensely slowly... rising.
"This is my answer. My way. It deserves no respect or grace, its evil. But it is my choice." And he wouldn't have chosen it if he didn't find joy and fulfillment in it. "Killing me won't...ahh...kh! It won't... change a thing. As long as humans.... bear dark desires, I am inevitable."
Gasping, he fell and vomited more of that black ooze. He scratched at the ground, clawing at the mortal coil like a beast without any pride. Only the desire to go further.