The monolith's dust still hung in the air like a bad omen.
Fighters scattered like roaches under a light—some screaming accusations, others diving straight into brawls. The crimson sky pulsed darker, almost like it was breathing. Or laughing.
Haru Cyrius stood frozen, palm still tingling from the stone's touch. The vision replayed in his head, over and over, like a cursed loop he couldn't pause.
It wasn't just flashes anymore. The details hit him hard now, expanding, filling in the blanks like poison seeping into cracks.
He saw it clear: Eight years ago, in the Kingdom of Aetherion. Baby Haru, glowing with the Hero's Crest fresh on his chest. Divine light everywhere. Priests chanting. Then shadows crept in—literal shadows with hands. A cloaked figure, face hidden under a hood that swallowed light, reached out. Fingers like claws. The Crest ripped free, golden energy screaming as it got sucked into a black orb.
The thief laughed—a voice like grinding bones. "Destiny's just a toy for the gods, kid. And you're not invited to play."
Then the vision zoomed out. Way out.
The Eternal Arena wasn't some fancy coliseum. It was a massive, glowing seal slapped over a bottomless pit. Cracks spider-webbed across it, pulsing with dark energy. Below? A writhing mass of forgotten horrors—tentacles, eyes, teeth. The catastrophe the synopsis whispered about. Ancient, pissed off, and hungry for the world.
Champions like Haru? Not heroes. Bait. Every death in the tournament fed the seal, patching it up. But the winners—the final two—they'd be the keys. Their "divine wish" would shatter the last lock, letting the nightmare loose.
Why? The gods' sick game. Or maybe something worse. The vision hinted at betrayal among the deities themselves. One god stealing power from another. Haru's stolen Crest? Part of it.
He blinked back to reality, heart slamming like a war drum.
Clara grabbed his arm, voice shaky. "Haru? You look like you saw a ghost army."
Leonhardt loomed closer, sword ready. "Spill it, kid. What did the stone show you?"
Haru hesitated. Trust these guys? They were temporary allies at best. But the paranoia was already spreading—fighters eyeing each other like prey.
Before he could answer, the announcer's voice boomed, shaky for the first time.
"TRUTHS OUT! PARANOIA MODE ACTIVATED! FIGHTERS, REMEMBER—ALLIANCES ARE TEMPORARY. DEATH IS OPTIONAL... UNTIL IT'S NOT!"
The scoreboard flickered:
FIGHTERS REMAINING: 3,512 TIME LEFT: 19:22:45
Then chaos exploded fresh.
A group of twenty fighters nearby turned on each other. One dude with fire fists yelled, "You stole my clan's relic! The stone showed me!"
His buddy countered with ice blasts. "Liar! You're the god's puppet!"
Explosions rocked the islands.
Haru snapped back. "We gotta move. Now."
The trio leaped across floating chunks, dodging stray blasts.
But the vision's details kept flooding Haru's mind, pulling him deeper.
He saw more: The cloaked thief wasn't alone. Flashes of other faces—some familiar. Yura's cold eyes, but younger, watching from shadows. Xyphira's seductive smile, whispering to gods. Even Azra's beast form, chained in a lab, created by divine hands.
And the pit's monster? It had a name. Whispered in ancient tongues: "The Void Eater." Born from gods' wars eons ago. Sealed by the first tournament. Every thousand years, the seal weakened. Needed blood to hold.
Winners didn't get wishes. They got used. Their souls twisted into the final patch—or the breaker.
Haru stumbled on a rock. "Shit... it's all rigged."
Clara pulled him up. "What is?"
Before he could explain, a massive wind gust hit them.
Prince Wildane landed in front, cape flapping epic, sword drawn. Wind magic swirled around him like a loyal storm.
"Tempest King's Wrath!"
He wasn't attacking them—yet. His eyes darted wild. "The stone... it showed my kingdom's fall. Orchestrated by one of you Divine Seeds!"
Leonhardt stepped up, lion mane bristling. "Back off, princeling. We're all screwed here."
Clara raised her spear, holy light flickering. "We can talk this out!"
Wildane laughed bitter. "Talk? In a death game?"
Then more joined the standoff.
Luna, the Moon Oracle, floated down on silver waves. Gentle face, but eyes sharp with curiosity. "The prophecies lied. We're not saviors... we're lambs."
Her Silver Eclipse Wave rippled the air, ready to barrier or blast.
Mireille Ezdella appeared in a flash of silver—elegant rapier drawn, sharp-tongued as ever. "My family's purge... tied to this seal. Someone here pulled the strings."
Silver Thorn Strike poised.
Even Rhaizen Al-Mutahhir, the Purifier, strode in, sacred blade glowing. "The black fog on Zahir... it's leaking from that pit. We end this now."
Light Purification Burst charged.
The group formed a tense circle—Haru, Clara, Leonhardt, Wildane, Luna, Mireille, Rhaizen. Divine Seeds and top fighters, all legendary in the dim light.
The announcer hyped it:
"STANDOFF OF THE CENTURY! VISIONS CLASH—WHO STRIKES FIRST?!"
Haru felt the Crest burn. "Wait! The vision showed me—the Arena's a seal. Our fights feed it. Winners break it open!"
Gasps. Eyes widened.
Wildane's wind faltered. "Break it? My wish was to restore my kingdom..."
Luna whispered, "Live as human... but at what cost?"
Mireille's rapier trembled. "Expose the nobles... but if the world's ending..."
Rhaizen's light dimmed. "Punish the destroyer... but we're the tools?"
Clara's voice cracked. "My sister..."
Leonhardt growled. "Then we change the game."
But trust? Zero.
Wildane struck first—wind blades whipping at Rhaizen. "You! The stone showed your church involved!"
Rhaizen parried with light burst. "Lies!"
The circle exploded into mythic mayhem.
Luna raised barriers—silver waves blocking stray hits.
Mireille danced in, rapier thrusting like thorns. "Silver Thorn Strike!"
She tagged Wildane's arm, drawing blood.
Wildane roared, summoning tempest. Winds hurled everyone back.
Haru charged through, golden energy exploding. "Celestial Breaker—Chain Release!"
Chains shattered more, power surging. He punched a wind blade aside, tackling Wildane.
They rolled, fists and swords clashing.
Clara healed mid-fight, spear reversing damage on allies.
Leonhardt tanked a light burst from Rhaizen, roaring back with Lionheart Awakening.
Luna's eclipse wave slammed down, stunning half the group.
It was pure epic—slow-mo clashes, glowing powers, roars echoing.
Haru pinned Wildane. "Stop! We're playing their game!"
Wildane's eyes flashed. "The vision... my family screamed as the catastrophe leaked through. Because of thieves like your thief!"
Haru froze. "My thief... the one who stole my Crest. It's connected."
A shared vision fragment hit them both—linked somehow.
They broke apart, panting.
The fight paused. Everyone breathing heavy, wounds glowing from partial heals.
Rhaizen lowered his blade. "Truce. For now. We share visions."
Murmurs of agreement.
But shadows shifted.
Yura Zahdavel stepped out—silent as death.
"Sharing? Cute."
Void blades drawn.
The announcer screamed joy: "THE EXECUTIONER JOINS! GOD-HUNTER VS ALL!"
Yura dashed—Voidstep Decapitation.
Blades aimed at Haru.
Haru blocked, golden fist meeting shadow. Shockwave cracked the island.
"Why me?!"
Yura's cold smile. "Your vision calls to mine. The gods who killed my clan... they're watching through you."
Clash after clash—Yura's shadows vs Haru's light.
Others jumped in—truce turning alliance against the anti-hero.
Luna's waves slowed Yura.
Mireille's thorns nicked him.
Rhaizen's light burned shadows.
Wildane's winds pushed him back.
Clara healed the group.
Leonhardt charged with lion roar.
Haru landed the big hit—uppercut sending Yura flying.
Yura landed graceful, wiping blood. "Not bad. But the truth hurts more."
He vanished into shadow.
The group collapsed, exhausted.
Scoreboard updated:
FIGHTERS REMAINING: 3,289 TIME LEFT: 18:59:12
Haru stared at the sky. The vision's details burned deeper—the thief's hood slipping, revealing a godly emblem. Same as the Arena's.
"The gods stole my destiny... to force me here."
Clara touched his shoulder. "Then we slay them."
Nods around.
But deep down, Haru knew: The seal was cracking faster now.
And the Void Eater was whispering back.