Trudging the short distance between rings felt like being sent to his execution, with Zahn’s stamina still so low. Seeing the foursome waiting for him a mere thirty steps away felt like he’d been woken from a pleasant nap after a long day just to be set back on task with no sleep. Even his eyes ached, the skin around them feeling tight and dry as the sun’s bright light reflected at him off the sands. Pausing in his stride to shade his eyes with one hand and rub at his sore back with the other, Zahn got an idea that almost made him grin out loud.

He came to a stop and reached into his bag for his flask and focused on his magic muscle keeping the mana in his body at the right concentration. Taking a long drink from the cool leather pouch, he pushed harder on the channeled spell and felt the warmth in his chest give off a pulse of vibration before a tingling trickle of heat spread through his body. The energy rushed just under his skin, feeling like the first reaction to strong whisky on the rocks. Weakened mana flooded his body and poured out his skin, filling the millions of tiny reservoirs of magic he’d been building with his meditation sessions. As his body’s cells took in power like dry sand, Zahn felt a rush of optimism and straightened up.

By the time he lowered his drink, he felt like he’d been given fresh springwater all through his body and could even see his stamina bar ticking up to nearly full. With the little health he’d lost in the first clash, the Custom wasn’t worried about dying immediately but it was pleasant to see his red bar ticking up to full as well thanks to his regeneration. This physical enforcement stuff is like charging up my healing. I wonder if I can’t burn off the energy during a fight, recover from something crippling? Before Zahn could ponder the question longer than a second, his canteen was snatched from his hand as Burnato upended it and glared at the water droplets.

“What’s the meaning of this?” His large red face bore no sign of the previously normal grin, and his heaving shoulders did nothing to hide his rage. “Some kind of potion? Explain, Monk! What’s he drinking!?”

Zahn took his waterskin back and tucked it away, giving the brute a raised eyebrow. “Water. From the fresh barrel? What else would it be?”

“You guys don’t fill up from the fountain?” One of the walking corpses spoke up from the fight ring, his face twisted up in confusion. He looked from the Players to his instructor, “Is that even clean?”

Ethan yelled at him from the sides, impatiently waiting for the fight. “Not all of us have fully furnished commons, newbie. You’ll see once you’re done training under fifth here. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Dismissing the spat and shaking out his legs, Zahn resumed his walk to the fight ring and palmed his dagger. Should start off with another big Shift, maybe it’ll buy me enough space to split them up. It’s something like twenty feet across, so I should dump mana once I step in. As he reached the edge of the buried stones marking the circle, he looked around at the gathered audience again and was surprised to find four of his Barbarian friends clustered together near Ethan. Gardor found his gaze and raised a fist, shaking it once before crossing his arms. Zahn nodded back, seeing his resource pools refilled and relaxing the gut pressure that kept his mana flow at its lowest tier.

Stepping over the stones caused an immediate vibration behind his left ear, and with a shimmer of color the four lads with him summoned their weapons and lunged at him. By leaving their weapons dismissed until the last moment, they showed him multiple things he wasn’t ready for in his mentality to begin casting the ground. First, they showed their considerable reach as a long sword blade came slicing through the air and forcing him to roll just to stay in the fight. Following, they showed him a measure of teamwork as a heavy spiked mace just missed his last spot and sent up a puff of sand, pursuing him with a thick axe blade almost taking his arm at the elbow. Rising to his feet and jumping to the far wall, Zahn spun to see the final of the quartet mid-charge with fists raised. The boy held different weapons than the last boxer, where the first had full metal gauntlets this lithe teen had leather-wrapped fists with metal plates across the backs and acting as knuckles.

Taking the hit solidly to his gut, Zahn folded over the fist and let his considerable size help him for once. Wrapping his left elbow around the surprised lad’s neck, he spun to the right and pulled his prey’s legs over his own, sending the duelist to the ground hard and knocking the air out of him. Following up on his half-spin, the Player pushed mana out his planted foot as he lifted the other to stomp on a delicate wrist. His tactic was blocked by dreaded teamwork, the mace-wielder slamming into him with a full body tackle and sending both into the shield as it shook from the impact and lit up blue.

Snarling at the chubby lad, Zahn shoved the body off of him as he felt the thuds of approaching feet through the ground. Seeing the cloud of mana beneath them, the Custom slapped his free hand on the sands and cast. “Spikes!” Trusting the spell to leave him alone, he went back to the task of freeing himself from the mace wielder before his teammates could capitalize on the struggle. He saw the shift from blue to green from the edge of his vision before grunts of pain and cries from the charging teens sounded out. Finally tugging his legs free from the burden, Zahn stood and found his opponents either at his feet or dancing away from his trapped ground.

Expecting the second boxer to be futilely punching the ground, he was taken back seeing the boy straining under the weight of his teammate as he slowly levered them away from danger in a push-up position. With each breath the boys were slowly lifted further from the spikes, but Zahn wasn’t about to just let them escape without punishment. “Shape,” he intoned as he pushed mana through his leg and called the design into being. A simple rectangle rose from the sand like a buried tombstone, rising into place inches from the boxer’s confused face in the seconds it took to fully form. Zahn waited as the shape solidified, before pushing mana into the Spikes spell as it ebbed beneath their feet and sent the energy up into his newly formed wall.

Rolling to the side and away, the pair dodged spikes from punching into the boxer’s face and continued their roll together until they landed past the spiked ground. With all four opponents lightly injured and stepping carefully, Zahn felt trapped against his curved wall as the team regrouped. They silently tilted heads towards one another as each in turn spoke in their group chat, but instead of forcefully disrupting the psychic network again the Custom opted to make their plans useless. Focusing on the hexed ground, he could feel the warm pocket of power he’d buried for the cast and could see where it lay under the sands. Stepping forward into its area made the teen team jump and prance back, but as amusing as their reactions were, he was already lost in his spellcasting. Stopping within his field of danger he could feel the mana built up under him, and pushing more power into the field merely extended how long the spikes would repair themselves and maintain his control over the area. He spread his arms to each side, eyes unfocusing as he tried to expand the area affected and reach out with the spiked sands.

He could still easily see the rippling pond of mana beneath him, and could see the edges widen and shrink in response to his movements but the effect created remained static in place. He slowly moved his arms together, dragging them through the air as he held his arms out straight and brought his hands in front of him to nearly touch. The feeling of warm comforting mana flowing down and out through his feet into the hot ground was calming, even as he felt his frustrations build at the magic. Come on, move, grow. Channeling just five minutes ago made this work, come on magic, work. His arms began to tremble from being held out, and Zahn could feel his face twist to betray his inner struggle. Just as his eyelid started to twitch on its own, the Custom gave up on the task and refocused on the world with a snarl.

Jufuin stepped slowly, keeping his team out of the insane Player’s spiked ground territory. His sword felt heavy in his sweaty hand, the day’s heat doing no favors for his team as they tried to kill the deceptively low-leveled beast. The man stood in the middle of his treacherous ground, arms spread wide as he stared at nothing and mumbled incoherently to himself. The mumbling grew faster, formless words dribbling out his mouth as his arms slowly came together as if he were cursing all the lands before him.

“Watch out,” Ohsofu’s voice came thready over their chat. “I don’t like the looks of this, it only took him a second to make that little wall.”

“Shut up about the spiked wall,” Icabur retorted. “You dodged it, you’re fine, and you even got Gerb out safely. Just stay alive, whatever’s coming.”

Glancing between his mates, Jufiun saw their drawn faces and settled on the role he’d been thrust into. “Enough chatter. He’s trying to keep distance, so let’s rush him. Gerb, break spikes enough for Ohs to punch in again. Depleting his stam is the fastest way to a kill. Break!”

Finishing his own statement by leaping into action, the youth crossed the sands towards his opponent in three easy strides with his sword held low and to the side ready to strike. The mumbling man’s arms trembled visibly, sand rattling as it vibrated along with him and making Gerb whimper into the chat. Using his gathered momentum, Jufuin rotated his hips on the last step and swung his longsword with both hands, the long blade shining in the bright sunlight as it arced through the air at the gray-leveled Player they’d been set to kill once more.

The thing’s eyes snapped open, shining blue like a constellation behind disks of furious roiling darkness. The mystery patterns of light waited another day to be solved, with his face contorting into a furious visage of flushed red skin and gritted teeth. The shining silver light of the blade swung ever closer, moving far too slowly to strike down such a vile hated foe.

As if he could hear Jufuin’s fears, the man’s magic eyes tracked over to his own before passing him with utter dismissal to land on the approaching weapon. His wrist twitched, fingers curling and uncurling in the seconds before impact as the wretched beast of a human uttered a single word to spare his own life.

“Shift.”

The syllable rang through the air, nearly shaking the whole world as it passed through Jufuin’s body faster than he could think and leaving him behind. The pull of the word remained, dragging inside his chest and neck to pull him back mid-strike. Jufuin’s blade still sang as it moved, the air still giving way before its mighty edge, even as the world around him lost its balance and pitched him backwards off his own feet. The ground beneath him lurched, the sands he’d been training on and rolling over for weeks betraying him as suddenly as a storm and nearly ending his part in the fight altogether. As the valiant Gladiator fell back, he saw in the same endless time stretched through a single moment as his sword tip crossed through the space in front of the Player’s neck and continued its path uselessly to the ground.

Tumbling head over ass through the suddenly ample sand clouds covered his face and took away his vision, blinding him to the cries and impacts sounding around him. He could still see his display, with the status bars of his party members flickering each time they took a hit and steadily dropping from the barrage. As Jufuin tried to stand against the tumult, he felt another body slam into his lower half and drop both to the ground again as they rolled together. Thankfully, the barrier of their fight ring behaved more solidly than their fickle footing and let the swordsman lean against a solid wall for a breath.

He saw Gerb’s health drop by a solid third before he heard the cry of pain ring out in chat as well as their match. Furiously scrubbing at his face to clear it, the teen finally cracked open a lid to find the no-class freak kicking out at the duo facing off with him and stomping the ground between strikes. Ohsofu darted in, his legs a blur as he moved and feinted, his whole body wrapping around to where the Player couldn’t see from blocking before lashing out with a rapid pattern of short strikes. The first two landed, sending the Player reeling back before he continued to lean and slapped the ground behind him barking another word.

“Shape!”

With the new spell cast Gerb tried to get clear, his soft body fighting back as he hustled the dozen steps to cross the area affected by the ongoing Shift and position himself behind the thin duelist. His positioning didn’t help, as the spell activated and a squared pole ripped out from beneath the sand sending a spray skyward. The beam tapered from a hand-wide base thinner towards the tip, looking like an extreme stretched version of the Player’s own grave. The strange construct missed its target as Ohs jumped to his right and Gerb squealed as the attack passed overhead.

The Player rolled from his prone position, rising to one knee as he studied the battlefield. Even with the thing’s eyes glowing, it was hard to not think he was constantly staring into one’s soul. When the blue lights did settle on him, Jufuin felt like there were two sets of eyes boring into his own - as if he were always being watched, yet when the man used his real eyes he was being seen doubly so. Unnerved by the staring contest, the intrepid leader was left trying to gather his thoughts when another voice sounded over their chat.

“Keep together! Get us out of the pile of sand, we’re sitting bulls here!”

Icabur’s voice snapped him from stupor, making Jufiun want to smack himself for falling into such immobility. “Gerb! That’s you! Pull Ica out, then come back for me. Teamwork! There’s only one of him!”

Jumping to obey, the chubby boy turned and wheezed to his companions as Icabur tossed his axe away into Oblivion before reaching out to grab the other’s weapon with both hands. Dragging him clear of the flowing sands, the large teen was about to dive back in when their monster chose to make his move.

“Shift.”

The thing’s voice was smooth and carried, as if the flowing ground and panting teammates made no noise at all. Once again Jufuin had the impression the very air vibrated with the word, though the distance between them made it hard to tell. The missed attack pole shuddered before it sank backwards into the sands, looking for all the Colliase like some creature’s tail as it swam into the depths. The Player kept moving his unarmed hand, keeping the limb level with the ground as he directed his next attack from below.

“It’s coming from below, probably the same attack!” For a moment Jufuin wasn’t certain he was the one speaking, the lack of movement needed for chat not helping his confused state. The message seemed clear enough as his teammates silently nodded and braced themselves, with Ohsofu even dropping his gaze from the threat to study the sands around him.

Breaking eye contact proved to be a mistake, as the greedy Player let a smile slip before violently jerking his wrist and thrashing the hand around. From behind the duelist, a small mound of sand rippled up like a bubble bursting before it stopped and repeated the action with a complete pillar bursting out of the ground. Gerb made an inarticulate wailing noise out loud as some form of warning before the blunt pyramid atop the pole slammed into Ohs’ back and dragged against his spine as it traveled upwards. Each knob on his spine made the rocky beam shudder and jump as it trekked up its victim The boy screamed, arching his back as the pain shot up his spine and even toppling over when the spell shot over his shoulder to free him. His body armor did little to blunt the already blunt-force attack, dropping his health below half and leaving him with a heavy Stunned debuff.

“Ohs is down! Kite him away!” Despite their earlier assignments, it seemed like Icabur was intent on leading this match as well. “We need to keep him busy! Aso move in!”

“Aso’s dead, stupid! And you’re not in charge!” Rolling to the other side and finding solid ground, Jufuin scrambled to his feet and dismissed his weapon to re-summon it again with the next gesture. The foul Player stalked around the three remaining upright, forcing Jufuin to keep his sword up in a high defense to ward him off. The heavy blade was starting to make his arms shake, even with all of their extensive training. He took a steadying breath, banishing the fond memory of his lighter tier-one sword in favor of his much heavier and stronger second rank weapon. “We don’t have longer weapons than mine right now, I’ll keep him busy. Gerb, flank his right side, I don’t want him moving away from those fucking spikes!”

Running in with his heavy sword held high, he felt like he could make two or three more attacks before his stamina would need to recover. Already, the strain of holding his weapon aloft so long was counteracting his natural stamina regeneration and making his breath come short. The headlong charge was led by the tip of his blade, held close to his body as if he were coiled to launch a short spear. Out the side of his eye, Jufuin could see Gerb obediently charging silently to his left and holding his thorned mace high in both hands. The look on the former fat kid’s face was one of stark terror, but he tried to cover his fear with the enthusiastic yelling that only echoed within chat.

The Player’s eyes sparked red, the blue surrounding the new glow seeming to dance behind the shimmering light as the man’s face lit from within. His mouth opened, the light revealing itself to be shining and flickering from within the depths of his too-red throat. He fell into a crouch with both hands held up before him, his fingers splayed and flexed as if he gripped some great melon and was eager to feast upon it. Ducking so low, he had dropped into the perfect position for an overhead strike and could only dodge to one side, leaving such a tempting target that Jufuin couldn’t refuse. He’d only just changed his angle of attack to trigger the Skill when the wretched monster in human form struck first.

Air hissed out like a punctured lung before the rush of wind erupted into a flash of light and heat. Fire exploded out from the thing’s mouth, spreading like a fan as it engulfed the entire field before him. Flames shot from both hands, the red light burning its way up both arms and down the Player’s neck as he spat fire out three ends. The ongoing stream was blinding, red and orange light that forced the fighters to shield their eyes even as they were driven back by the blast. Their internal resistances held up against the initial heat, built by taking attack after fiery attack from the elemental Monsters for days on end. As the heat grew, the air seemed to choose the enemy as breathing came harder and Gerb fell to a knee holding his neck.

In the chaos of the ongoing stream, Ohs regained his wits and picked up his head only to bury it further into the sands. “Holy chaos that’s hot! I thought stream-type attacks could only last for five seconds?! When is this asshole gonna breathe?”

“He’s shooting out both hands!” Gerb was surprisingly the first to articulate an answer from the ground. “He can probably breathe whenever, the middle is already covered by the ground dragging thing!”

As if answering the statement, the flames died down and light was restored to its proper place in the sky. The foul Player remained on both feet, panting heavily as he held up both hands in fists. The red light had disappeared at some point during the assault, leaving only the creepy blue dots of light inside the man’s eyes and the steam that faded from each overheated breath. Glancing around at his team and eyeing the status bars, he could see each member of his team remained above a quarter health and Icabur had even managed to tank the fire attack well. With the highest health, their axe-wielder had now become their de facto meat shield until they could drain the Player’s stamina.

The Player straightened up and kicked out, seeming to be stretching its legs during their fight. He sucked a breath from above, only glancing up long enough to take in the fresh air before turning his harsh eyes upon them once more. “So, it’s all about piercing then.” He didn’t seem to be speaking to any of them, and this team was already trained enough to not give him the satisfaction of conversation. As if he’d expected the lack of answer, the foul thing spat a wad of dull red into his hand, looking as if he’d been holding a coal or part of tongue in his own mouth. He held up the wad of spit on his splayed palm as if he were spinning brandy in a glass as the dull red colors began to take on new lights and fires started dancing above it.

“That’s an attack. He’s readying some kind of fire piercing attack, get ready!” Once again, Icabur tried to step outside of his role and take control of the team, even if he was right.

“That much is obvious! Cut the non-essential chatter!” Repeating something Fifth Burnato told them once seemed to do the trick and bring the unruly axeman back in line. “Move in, take the spikes if you have to!” Jufuin followed his own advice, charging just behind his tank with the heavy sword held up high.

The Player cocked his arm back, gripping the fiery thing tightly as it flared with inner red and yellow light before he stepped closer and threw the spell like a child’s ball. The spell seemed unstable, pulsing as it stretched and collapsed on itself mid-flight to stretch back out just before striking Ohsofu as he ran up from his buried sand shield. The impact shocked their duelist as it hit, taking a chunk of his remaining health and making him stumble to a knee instead of joining the charge. Gerb made his way in close, stepping on the spikes and crying openly from the pain as he brought his mace down on the Player’s still-outstretched throwing arm.

By some horrible happenstance, the wretched Player saw the coming strike and twisted his arm in to cushion the blow before striking up with his knee and taking poor Gerb under his chin. Gerb’s health flashed to under a quarter as he was hit with a Stunned debuff, letting the chubby body fall onto the spiked ground.

Reaching their foe, the duo struck together with well-practiced motions. Icabur slashed across from right to left, driving the prey to lean leftwards to dodge the attack. The axeman rolled to the left in his follow-up to give Jufuin space to perform his own overhead strike following the same line, ready to cleave the infernal Player’s neck. The wretched monster instead simply rolled back in a somersault to cleanly dodge the blade, slapping the ground before him as he landed in a crouch.

“Shape!”

The casting launched another tapered square pole from the sands, bursting up from beneath Gerb’s prone body to pulp the boy’s shoulder and slam into Icabur’s helmet as he ducked to catch the body. The Player snarled for a breath then turned to the team, straightening up. Jufuin desperately pulled at his longsword, the blade wedged into the sands for far too long as purple light began to shine behind the foul Player’s eyes. Just as his weapon tugged free and Jufuin began his backpedal retreat, the man opened his mouth once more to attack.

Instead of red light shining down an endless tunnel, the new spell started as impossible darkness just past the monster’s teeth. From somewhere deep inside the darkness, in less than even a second’s time, a star of purple light shined from the back before the flicker of starlight erupted into the shrillest noise the fighters had ever heard. The darkness banished by the purple lights, Jufuin could see into the wretched Player’s mouth as pulses made of rings of light rippled along the inside of his mouth and came out as a warbling screech washing over the team. Each ring came out as its own shrill whine, the ongoing noise drowning out even chat as he tried to communicate with his team members.

When the Player finally stopped his ongoing screeching attack and lowered his arms, the ringing that echoed in their heads remained. Looking again at the bars he could see his entire group was in the red, his own health bar standing the highest at just over a tenth. It looked like Gerb had been mostly shielded by Icabur, though the Gods only knew if he meant to do that. Planting his sword in the sands, Jufuin gasped for breath and wished his regeneration would work faster as his eyes found the Player once more.

The foul thing stood unsteadily, blood trailing from his eye and both ears as he faced the team. His latest attack had some apparent consequences, and if his half-depleted health bar was any clue he took at least some of the damage they’d been subjected to. Even only on one stiff leg, the caster still had tricks up his sleeve. Holding up his right hand and flexing the arm prompted a small flame to burst into life above his palm. Wobbling with each motion, the Player planted a back foot before reaching back to once again toss the silly fire spell. As he threw the shot he fell forwards, landing in his own trapped ground and not seeing the missile streak past a shocked Jufuin’s ear. The heat made him gasp and grab at his head, eyes wide and not believing the Burn debuff newly applied.

The Player grouched something and said something muffled before another squared pillar emerged from beneath, this one slowly moving as it held him up by his chest armor. With arms dangling and a crooked smile, the evil thing flexed to bring forth another charge of the fire spell and Jufuin’s internal chat finally crackled back to life.

“-so we need to move fast, he’s not gonna miss again. The guy’s shocked to a still, we have to stop the next strike!”

Icabur’s voice was dreadful and grating at the best of times, but in the second it arrived Jufuin could have kissed him. Snapping back to the present with a blink, he saw the Player rearing back to throw another shot and immediately plucked his two-handed sword from the ground to block the missile.

Amazingly, the spell hit the flat of his blade exactly and rocketed off to explode into sparks against the barrier above. His eyes traced the path back down to the Player as he recovered, balancing on both legs again as he shook himself back into working order. Blood had stopped flowing freely, and if his vigor wasn’t a bluff his stamina was still high. Jufuin raised his sword into a high guard once more, stalking close to his teammates as he moved in for the next attack.

“I’m back, I’m better. That scream is nasty, watch out for purple eyes going again. Let’s go for plan six. If we don’t win fast, we’ll be out of time at this rate.”

With the team organized and moving together, confidence returned to his stride. Even at such critical health, the Player was still weak to anything they could land with melee attacks and their weapons were chosen for their attack power alone.

As if he’d heard the chat, the Player leaned against the pillar he’d used to stand and leveled a glare at the trio. “Now, that won’t work much. Let’s try this instead.” Whatever he was referring to became a mystery as the man’s eyes lit up purple once more and locked onto Jufuin’s. His gaze seemed to carry the same endless darkness that colored his throat before the scream, only at the center instead of inverted. The same darkness seemed to reach out, threatening to swallow Jufuin whole even as he stood with his party ready to strike. The endless darkness poured out of those infinitely small specks, wrapping around and enveloping Jufuin’s mind as a blanket swaddles a babe. The dark was cold, feeling like roots digging through soil before a sudden glare drove it away. Bright, radiant, glorious purple light shone down and all around, driving the clinging darkness to the furthest corners of Jufuin’s consciousness as he embraced the warm, loving purple light.

The light held him in return, wrapping around him with arms like a lover’s would be. The endless kindness promised only more of the same, comforting and holding him close in the space between moments. “You must,” the voice came from everywhere and nowhere, echoing and rippling within the purple light. Whatever the light needed him to do, he was ready. He loved the purple light. “You must,” the same rippling voice came back, and he was eager to hear it. “You must fight for your life!”

The sudden volume snapped Jufuin out of his trance, seeing the urgency rise alongside bile in his throat. All around, enemies were bearing weapons and turning to face him. Somehow, the foul Player’s ranks had grown and surrounded him! To his right and left, and even far to the right on the other side of the wretched sand trap the minions of the Player had somehow sprung up and armed themselves, ready to turn and rend him immediately. Finding the weakest on his left, the swordsman raised his blade high to guard before swinging the stroke to end his hated foe’s minion’s life.

A head sailed over the sands, Gerb’s scared face not even recognizing what happened as he stared down the enemy before him. The boy’s head and body vanished together, crumbling into dust even as the axe-bearing teen turned on his murderous companion. Jufuin’s eyes were filled with color, the whites so heavily stained with bright purple light it seemed he’d been dunked into wine barrels along with the good napkins. The light stretched out from the centers of his eyes, wide and staring at the vanished body of his fallen friend. Jufuin turned the same sightless stare upon his next ally, who didn’t hesitate to remove the problem.

Zahn watched fascinated and out of breath as the team collapsed and killed one another. Striking the mind of the swordsman worked better than he’d hoped, and even if using Psychic like this was breaking into another’s mind he was willing to try it again later. Sending a single command through a forced link was almost simple, downright easy thanks to his super-charged mental weave. Connecting to his mind only took a tendril of mana and the thought to do so, even if he’d been forced to attach the mana thread by nearly getting cut down.

Leaning on his Shaped creation, he tried to gain back stamina as the green bar continued to flash at him every few seconds and drain away what little energy he’d recovered. Something went wrong just after he unlocked the new Psychic Scream spell, when the vibrating air struck the shield around them and sent the echo of the attack right back at him. He’d been helpless to stand as the spell cast itself, depleting the mana he fed it even as the shockwaves battered his body in return.

Watching the axeman finally kill his sword-wielding brother felt like peeling off a particularly annoying scab and finding clean skin beneath. The second body to fall in as many moments almost made him smile and cheer, but sucking in the air to stand felt like a needle in his lung. “That worked, even better than I expected,” he finally allowed himself as the teen fell to his knees sobbing at the death he’d wrought. “I can probably snag his mind too and-”

His next muttered plans were rudely silenced as the wrapped fists of the final forgotten member stuck solidly, landing a rapid series of punches to the back of his ribs. Each shot landed below his shoulder blade and he could feel his poor ribs cracking and snapping with protest. Air was driven out of his body, each punch landing hard enough to rock him forward into the post he’d summoned to help him stand. The assist he’d crafted quickly lent itself to his death, as he couldn’t breathe or think enough to even dismiss it before the screaming teen behind him vented enough fury to finally kill him.

Zahn could only stand and take the beating, helplessly clinging to the rocky pole as his health dropped with each hit and his stamina dropped to the negative, taking its toll in his health after each damaging strike landed. In his breathless state, he couldn’t even focus enough to count the attacks as he stared blankly at his health and the sobbing broken axe teen on the ground in front of him.

Coming back to life at the hearth felt like regaining the ability to breathe, and had Zahn gasping and heaving for air even as he rocked back and forth on his couch. Clutching at his chest and panting heavily, time seemed to pass far too quickly for him to notice before a hand was shaking him by the shoulder.

“Come on, break’s over.” Ethan’s voice lacked pity even as its owner hauled him to his feet. “That’s just one death man, they’re bringing you down to level three today. Good fight though.”