Jael… you not having powers does not make you weak.
The voice came softly, like a memory trying not to be remembered.
Strength does not only flow from power. It comes from the heart.
For a fleeting second, the world blurred.
Jael's breath hitched.
"Wrong," he whispered hoarsely, lips barely moving. "You're wrong, ma…"
His fingers curled weakly into the blood-soaked sand.
"If power wasn't absolute," he continued under his breath, bitterness leaking into every syllable, "you would still be alive. Everyone would."
The memory shattered.
Heat slammed back into him—sunlight beating down mercilessly, iron and blood clogging the air. The roar of the colosseum returned in full force, thousands of voices screaming for death, for entertainment, for gods that never answered.
Jael slowly raised his head.
Across from him stood Lucas.
The man's expression was calm, almost serene, yet his grip on the spear was tight, knuckles white. Bloodlust rolled off him in suffocating waves, pressing against Jael's skin like a physical weight.
Their eyes met.
Jael's gaze was different now.
Calm.
Still.
Empty.
As if something behind his eyes had shifted.
A translucent shimmer flickered into existence before him.
DREAM WALK — ACTIVATED
The words burned themselves into his vision.
Then—
Silence.
The chanting died instantly, as though someone had reached down and ripped sound out of existence. The screams, the laughter, the prayers to the gods—gone.
Jael heard nothing.
Not even his own breathing.
Lucas lunged.
The spear tore through Jael's thigh with brutal precision, ripping flesh, shattering muscle. Pain should have followed—searing, blinding pain.
It didn't.
Jael didn't flinch.
His eyes never left Lucas's.
Lucas froze mid-motion.
"What—" His breath caught.
Then Jael blinked.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Not the comforting dark of closed eyes, but something deeper. Vast. Endless. A place that felt wrong to exist in.
Jael staggered forward instinctively, boots scraping against nothing.
"Where… am I?" he muttered.
His voice echoed, stretched, distorted, as though the space itself struggled to understand sound.
Then—
A scream.
High-pitched. Panicked. Raw.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"
Jael spun.
A child stood a short distance away, back pressed against an unseen wall. His eyes were deep red, glowing faintly in the darkness. His body trembled violently, hands raised in desperate defense.
Jael's breath caught.
"…Lucas?"
The child looked just like him.
Younger. Smaller. Broken.
"No—no—no—" the child sobbed. "Don't come closer! You're a monster!"
Jael took an involuntary step forward.
The child screamed louder.
"GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"
The darkness trembled.
"GET AWAY!"
Lucas screamed.
The real Lucas.
Back in the colosseum, his body shook violently. His spear clattered to the sand as he staggered backward, clutching his head. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with sweat and blood.
"No—no—stop—please!" he howled, eyes wide with terror.
Jael stood before him, unmoving.
Watching.
His eyes glowed a deep, unnatural violet.
The crowd fell silent.
"What… what is that?"
"Is that witchcraft?"
"Look at his eyes!"
Whispers spread like rot through the stands.
Fear replaced excitement.
A pity.
The ancient voice slithered into Jael's mind, heavy with disdain.
A mortal body unable to endure even this trivial expression of power.
Jael's vision warped.
A mere fragment—and already you are breaking.
A sudden, vicious pain exploded inside his skull.
Jael screamed.
"ARGHHHH—!"
His body convulsed violently as he collapsed to his knees. Blood poured freely from his eyes, streaking down his face and dripping onto the sand below.
His head felt like it was splitting open from the inside.
Something pushed against his consciousness.
Mortals are weak indeed.
Jael's hands clawed at the ground uselessly as his vision flickered.
A final crimson message burned itself into his fading sight.
PENALTY — ACTIVATED
Then—
Darkness.
Total. Absolute. Suffocating.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then the colosseum erupted.
"GLORY TO THE GODS!"
"GLORY TO THE GODS!"
The crowd screamed in frenzied joy, hugging one another, laughing hysterically as if they had just witnessed divine justice. Some fell to their knees in worship, others pointed at Jael's unmoving body with glee.
Blood soaked the sand beneath him.
Jael lay still.
Broken.
Unconscious.
High above, in the shadows where even light feared to linger, two deep green eyes stared down at the arena.
The glow within them flickered.
Dimmed.
"…Interesting," a low voice murmured.
The wyvern's gaze remained fixed on Jael's body, unblinking.
"What are you," he whispered slowly, something dangerously close to unease creeping into his tone, "human?"