"That was... Strong." She said, placing her drink down on the table next to her. Her eyes looked at him, watched the remaining blood dribble down his body until it dried in the warm air. Saw the purple and black skin of his face and the missing teeth that would take a few days to grow back. She saw how he floated there, his form now back to his composed, proper, almost regal like stature unable to stand on the ground. Incapable of relaxing or letting his guard down. She, saw, him.. the good, then the bad.
She noticed how he looked at the corpse lying dead in the sand filled Arena. The impossibly faint and fleeting look of pain and regret. At killing him? She thinks. At killing someone weaker than yourself? He should feel proud, he should feel glorious! But he didn't. And she doesn't understand why.
Nevertheless her eyes nearly sparkled before she reigned the unneeded excitement in. Leaning closer to Nathaniel she brings her hand up and wipes the blood from his busted cheek, appreciating how charming he looks covered in it, even if it is his own.
"I need a shower." He pushes her hand aside, looking into her eyes. He had just killed another Viltrumite, another sentient, breathing, living being. He felt remorse, slightly, but it was overwhelmed by the strength he'd already felt he'd gained, and he hasn't even healed yet.
He wanted to, no, needed to be stronger. He needed to be strong enough, to do what he wanted to instead of fight endless wars and commit endless atrocities for the glory of the Viltrum Empire. He didn't want to be a conquer of worlds, an ender of civilizations, reviled by the entire universe. He knew Anissa felt different, that Viltrum and her duty to its empire were paramount. He doubted that would ever change, it was the same for every Viltrumite he's ever met, consumed and entirely devoted to enhancing the glory of the Viltrum empire. He didn't see it.
He saw the Empire for what it was. Built on the blood of trillions, held up by brutal and cruel imperial values that leave depleted planets and starving civilizations in its wake.
No, he Couldn't see it.
"I need a shower, then we should get back before Thula notices, she never sleeps after all." He said turning around and heading toward the communal showers shared by the Gladiators. Anissa stood there watching him float away, his sturdy back looking especially strong to her eyes. She didn't know what to call that feeling, that.. emotion, but she had to admit.. she kind of liked it.
"Of course." She said as he turned the corner, her eyes looking at the shattered glass on the floor, the drink Nathaniel had given her.
...
In a dark corner of the Arenas Thula sat hooded and disguised. She saw both of them leave the moment they did. She saw Anissa wait for Nathaniel at the park like some Arousian couple! A sneer built on her face at the mere thought. It was unbecoming of the future of Viltrum to go out parading in the middle of night, and to come to the Arena of all places. Her instincts screamed to shoot down and shover her blade right down Nathaniels throat for the disobedience alone, but her interest was piqued and completely surpassed when she learned that instead of a mindless disgrace of an opponent, he would be fighting another Viltrumite, someone who would truly test him.
So here she was waiting and watching him fight. 'Horizon', how ridiculous, she thought. As if anyone with an iota of intellect wouldn't be able to put one and two together. Nathaniel, Nolan, Anissa and around 12 others were destined to fight on the frontier, her job as taskmaster was to ensure they were ready and prepare them to do their Duty. However, she doubts Nathaniel's conviction, his loyalty, she dares say. This alone would have been enough to gut him like a south Viltrum thornfin but, he showed promise in other aspects. Like his strength for example.
"You're fast." Stirik says as Nathaniel blasts forward, spiderweb cracks climbing up the reinforced wall from the force. He was stronger than most, no, all, of his peers which meant she let him live, let him continue to fight these fights disgusting as they may be.
The crowed around her roared as Nathaniel was blasted into the wall, proceeding to receive a pummeling that would be worthy enough to be his day of adulthood celebration. This time a scowl grew on her face, her eyebrows, crunching, her teeth grinding seeing his teeth fall to the sand from a particularly strong punch from Stirik.
"Fight him." She mumbled under her breath.
"Kill him." Without being able to hold back, she got angry seeing her student begin to lose, to be weak. If he died to this no-name planet locked weakling of a Viltrumite he should've never been born in the first place. She thought, but the thought itself felt empty to her. Its truth fragile from the fact that Nathaniel, was, not, weak.
A sonic boom from his punch vibrated the seat she sat on, her eyebrows quirking in surprise seeing such a comeback after the brutal beating he'd taken. If only she could make him more motivated to fulfill his Duty to Viltrum, he would be such an asset.
Stiriks head is punched off his body and the fight is over, Thula felt satisfied with the way he performed. She watched him leave the arena, smirking watching him float out, unable to stand on his disabled foot. A few moments later after the crowds roars quieted and a new fight began she stood up to leave, she wanted to be back at the training field before they were to 'greet' them.
Walking down the tall and long steps down the bleachers her eyes look forward, and by chance, lock onto Nathaniel and Anissa up in the Gladiator box, Anissa's hand resting on his face. Which is when it struck her. If Nathaniel was not motivated to bring glory to Viltrum, then she would motivate him using Anissa instead.
A dark chuckle escaped her lips as she hooked a left, leaving the East Viltrum Arena.