13. Kuana

The dim antechamber was buzzing with anticipation, fighters preparing for the impending battles in the pits, their shouts and roars echoing off the cold walls.

But among the chaos, a lone figure sat quietly in a corner, legs crossed, and eyes closed.

That was me, Kuana.

A soft rustle from my pocket broke my concentration.

Reaching inside, I pulled out a tiny folded note, the paper slightly crumpled.

It was from Violet.

Her unmistakable, delicate handwriting filled the page.

She had sneaked it to me earlier.

We leave tonight. Win and Claim me, Kuana. We'll be free.

A warmth spread through me, a mix of joy, hope, and fear.

Violet and I were so close to our escape, yet the challenge ahead loomed large.

Drawing in a deep breath, I began to meditate.

The cacophony of the antechamber faded away, replaced by a deep inner stillness.

Every part of my body relaxed, and my mind cleared.

I visualized myself in the pit, weapons in hand, opponents falling, one after the other.

I saw Violet's radiant face, the promise of a life together outside these walls.

The meditation brought a heightened sense of purpose and sharpened focus.

Emerging from my trance-like state, I stood up and approached the weapon's table, where a vast array of lethal instruments lay, glistening under the muted lights.

Each weapon had its strengths, its unique killing power, and its story.

First, there was the Jaxal Blade, a curved, double-edged sword with a hilt covered in intricate carvings from ancient wars.

It was well-balanced and favored by many fighters for its speed.

Next was the Eront Spear, a long, razor-sharp weapon, with a shimmering metal shaft, perfect for keeping enemies at a distance.

Several other blades, daggers, and blunt weapons occupied the table, but my eyes were drawn to the Votar Whip.

The Votar Whip wasn't a weapon many chose.

It was a black, coiled rope, looking deceptively simple, but when activated, it pulsated with energy.

With a flick of the wrist, the whip could extend, its tip capable of piercing the toughest armor, and its length could be manipulated to bind or trip adversaries.

It was a weapon that required immense skill, precision, and patience.

I had trained with the whip in my earlier days, long before Ikmal, during times I'd rather forget.

But those memories came with a unique understanding of the weapon.

The whip's versatility was its greatest strength.

It wasn't just about brute force; it was about strategy, timing, and exploiting your opponent's weaknesses.

Picking up the Votar Whip, I activated it.

A soft hum emanated from it, and the whip vibrated gently in my grip.

I practiced a few swings, the whip lashing out, then retracting smoothly.

Perfect.

It felt like an extension of my arm.

Next to the weapons table, a guard motioned for the fighters to line up.

The first match was about to begin.

I joined the queue, my senses alert, the weight of the upcoming fight pressing on my shoulders.

Each heartbeat, each breath, felt magnified in those final moments.

The pit's entrance stood before me, the large metal gate slowly beginning to rise.

The faint roar of the spectators reached my ears, a mix of cheers, boos, and the unmistakable sound of anticipation.

The other fighters were mostly larger, bulkier, carrying more conventional weapons, their eyes scanning the opposition, some with confidence, some with fear.

They noticed my Votar Whip, some snickering, thinking I was at a disadvantage.

Little did they know.

With the gate almost fully raised, I took a moment to ground myself.

This wasn't just another fight; it was the key to our freedom.

Violet's face flashed in my mind, a beacon of hope and love.

As the light from the pit flooded in, and the cries of the audience grew louder, I took one last deep breath, gripping the whip tightly.

I was ready.

The gate lifted completely, revealing the vast pit arena.

Without hesitation, I stepped forward into the chaos.

* * *

My vision blurredat the edges as I staggered out of the pit.

Every inch of my body throbbed, echoing the blows I had received in my previous matches.

My right arm hung limply by my side, fresh blood trickling from a deep gash.

I had narrowly survived the last bout, and the subsequent bouts had been progressively grueling.

My once bright hopes had dimmed as I realized the magnitude of the challenge.

Clamor from the eager audience intensified as I leaned against a cold metal pillar, catching my breath.

The anticipation for the final fight was palpable, almost suffocating.

I clenched my fists, feeling the pain as the wounds on my knuckles reopened, staining the floor with fresh drops of my blood.

A medic approached hurriedly, his tools and syringes clinking softly in his bag.

His cold blue eyes examined me, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You're not in good shape," he remarked, his voice a detached monotone.

I grunted in response, pain flaring as she prodded my wounded arm.

Without preamble, he produced a syringe filled with a fluorescent green liquid and plunged it into my arm.

The effect was almost immediate.

An intense heat spread through my veins, making me gasp.

My senses sharpened, and I felt a temporary surge of strength.

But I knew it was just that — temporary.

The pain still lingered, reminding me of my vulnerabilities.

"You have a few minutes before the drug wanes," the medic said, packing up his equipment. "Make them count."

As he left, I looked down into the pit, my final battleground.

There, a figure stood, shimmering under the lights.

My last opponent.

He was like no being I had ever encountered.

Standing tall, he appeared to be carved entirely out of crystal, his form catching and reflecting the lights in myriad hues.

I had heard of his reputation.

The Crystal Titan.

A fighter with the unique ability to harness and manipulate ice from the air around him.

Nearly indestructible, he was renowned for leaving his adversaries frozen in defeat — literally.

Trying to shake off my doubts, I took a deep breath and stepped back into the pit.

My footfalls echoed eerily, the audience's shouts dimming as I entered the battleground.

The Crystal Titan's piercing blue eyes locked onto mine.

The final fight had begun.

He moved swiftly, more agile than his bulky frame suggested.

With a mere sweep of his arm, a barrage of icicles flew towards me.

I dodged, but a few grazed me, their cold bite searing my skin.

The chill reached my bones, sapping my already waning strength.

My Votar Whip came alive in my grip.

I tried to bind him, but the whip merely glided off his crystalline surface, unable to find purchase.

My usual strategies and moves were rendered ineffective.

The Crystal Titan seemed to anticipate my every move.

A direct attack.

Perhaps that was the key.

I lunged at him, using the whip as a distraction.

But he merely sidestepped and caught me off-guard with an icy blast, knocking the wind out of me.

I skidded across the floor, the chill of the ice creeping up my body.

The effects of the medic's shot were wearing off, and my wounded arm screamed in agony.

In that moment, amidst the cold and pain, the realization hit me.

I might lose this fight.

The weight of that thought crushed my spirit.

I thought of Violet, the freedom we yearned for, and the life that beckoned beyond the prison walls.

Was it all slipping away?

The Crystal Titan advanced with confident strides.

Ice shards formed around him, ready to strike me down.

I had mere moments to act.

Rising shakily to my feet, I readied myself, though every fiber of my being screamed in protest.

Summoning every last ounce of energy, I launched myself at him, the whip unfurling with a desperate fervor.

It felt like the very universe conspired against me.

Every lunge, every swing of my Votar Whip, seemed a fruitless endeavor against the Crystal Titan.

It wasn't just his icy defenses that were formidable; his counterattacks were relentless.

Strategizing quickly, I tried to exploit any potential weakness.

But to my growing despair, each assault resulted in me landing on my back, my whip proving ineffective against his crystalline form.

The crowd's raucous enthusiasm grew, drowning my thoughts.

They reveled in the display, eager for a victor, but equally eager for a defeat.

I knew I was their entertainment, but the stakes for me were not about pride or victory.

They were about Violet, our shared dreams, and the possibility of a life together.

With every failed attempt, the Titan's confidence swelled.

And with a mere gesture, he summoned the moisture in the air, freezing it instantly.

Before I knew what was happening, tendrils of ice snaked around my legs and arms, pulling tight and locking them in place.

I struggled, but the ice held firm.

Encased in this frosty prison, I became a sitting target.

The Titan moved closer, his glistening form refracting the lights in a blinding dance of colors.

Each step felt like an eternity as I attempted to muster any remaining energy to break free.

But my strength was waning, drained by the cold and the relentless onslaught.

Desperation and fear gripped me.

The icy prison crept further, numbing my limbs, sapping my willpower.

The thought of failing Violet overwhelmed me, the weight of my responsibility pressing down like a planet's gravity.

In the dim haze of my vision, I spotted the Prize Pool hovering above.

It shimmered and gleamed, a tantalizing promise.

For me, it wasn't just a prize; it was the embodiment of a future with Violet.

The image of her flashed before me — her eyes, her smile, and the dreams we had woven together.

As these thoughts swirled, the Crystal Titan readied his final assault.

Ice particles hovered around him, concentrating into a lethal weapon.

The crowd's anticipation grew to a fever pitch, the cacophony reaching a climax.

My mind raced.

If I had one shot, one opportunity, I had to make it count.

I needed to dig deep, to find that reservoir of strength and will that had always been my lifeline in the bleakest moments.

I closed my eyes, letting the noise of the audience fade, the cold bite of the ice numbing my body.

I focused on that core, visualizing the energy, the heat, the fire that lay dormant.

The Titan was almost upon me, his weapon poised for the fatal strike.

The very air around us seemed to freeze in anticipation.

Then it happened.

A warmth began at the base of my spine, surging upwards.

It was a feeling I had only experienced once before, five years ago when I was zapped by the weapon the researchers were working on.

The power had been new to me then and I had been frightened, terrified.

I had lost control.

And I was in the process of losing control again now.

The sensation intensified, building up, seeking an outlet.

My heartbeat echoed in my ears, each thud resonating with the burgeoning heat.

My eyes, previously clouded with despair and fatigue, flared to life.

They glowed, radiating an intense heat.

I could feel it, the very essence of my being.

The Titan, sensing this change, hesitated for a split second.

That was all I needed.

As the heat reached my eyes, they became twin stars, shining with a fury and determination that promised retribution.

The next moments would decide it all.

* * *

I had always knownI possessed an untapped potential, an energy lying dormant within me.

But its full extent, its sheer force and magnitude?

That I had not expected.

As the heat reached its pinnacle, I could no longer hold it in.

My scream echoed, a raw, guttural release of agony and determination.

It was as if every fiber of my being was unleashing the pent-up emotions and energy of a lifetime.

Then it came — two brilliant beams of plasma erupted from my eyes, shooting forth with such velocity and intensity that it took even me by surprise.

The arena, so loud and chaotic moments before, seemed to go eerily silent, save for the sizzling of the twin lasers.

The Crystal Titan, so confident and imposing a mere moment ago, could only muster a look of shock.

He hadn't seen it coming — no one had.

The beams pierced his crystalline form, creating gaping holes through his once impregnable body.

Molten streaks carved through him as the lasers bore on, rendering him more glass than solid crystal.

Beyond the Titan, the power of the beams was evident as they scorched the sand, leaving it glassy and melted in their wake.

The walls of the pit took the brunt of the beams next, superheating them and causing them to crack, releasing plumes of steam and smoke.

When the onslaught ceased, a hushed silence descended upon the arena.

My lasers dimmed, and I fell to my knees, the outpouring of energy leaving me drained.

The once icy encasement around my limbs had been vaporized, and steam rose from my body in wisps.

The Titan lay in shattered fragments across the pit.

The once formidable being reduced to shards of its former glory.

The audience was stunned into disbelief.

In all the history of the Ikmal pits, never had such a display of raw power been witnessed.

Whispers began to circulate. "Who is he?" "What is he?" "Did you see that?"

They morphed into louder conversations, gasps of awe, and murmurs of fear.

This crowd, which had once cheered for my defeat, now looked upon me with a mix of reverence and apprehension.

The leader board blinked and my name was highlighted once more.

The crowd's response was mixed.

Some cheered, perhaps thrilled by the spectacle or pleased by the underdog's unexpected triumph.

Others whispered among themselves, their faces etched with doubt and concern.

I staggered to my feet, every part of me aching.

The medic rushed in, but I waved him away.

I didn't need his drugs or devices.

What I needed was Violet — to see her, to know she was safe, to let her know we were one step closer to our dreams.

As I made my way to the exit, the implications of what had just occurred began to weigh on me.

My unknown ability, the power that I'd unleashed, was a double-edged sword.

While it had saved me and had secured our path forward, it also exposed me in ways I hadn't anticipated.

It painted a target on my back, drawing attention I didn't want.

The weight of my newfound ability and its implications pressed heavily upon my heart.

Yes, I was the victor, but at what price?