I messed up.

The thought passed through Muzazi's brain like a bullet as he watched Radiant Almighty be devoured by the Unthroned void. The preparations he'd made for this attack had come to naught. The gamble he'd taken with the Embolden was just as big a failure. He'd granted his opponent greater power at no benefit to himself.

Why hadn't it worked? Had the Nebula lied to him? Was Mereloco just that strong?

He had no time to think about it.

Mereloco finally dispelled his Unthroned, the dark rift disappearing -- and immediately, he leapt through the space it had been occupying. It was no surprise that Mereloco had only used it for a second the first time. The hand he'd been guiding the ability with was flayed up to the elbow, and he was visibly exhausted -- massive bags pulling down on his face.

Still, he had more than enough in the tank to kill Muzazi with. He'd used Unchained to launch himself -- and to pull countless chunks of debris towards Muzazi from behind. An attack from all angles.

I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead.

The thought bounced through Muzazi's head like a pinball, his resolve spiraling down into panic. Mereloco was pulling back his good fist. The world was a crawl, adrenaline and terror and despair all working hand-in-hand to give Muzazi a leisurely view of his own incoming demise. The fist was growing larger as Mereloco thrust it forwards. The air pressure was already tickling against his face.

It would hit Muzazi square in the head. It would demolish his skull. It would send his brains spilling down into the abyss below. It would, it would, it would.

Mind raced for a way out. No avail. Couldn't dodge. Too slow. Couldn't block. Too slow. Couldn't do anything. Too slow. Slow, slow, slow, slow, slow. Fist coming to kill him. Eyes burning. Heart pounding. Skin clammy. Something, something. Had to be something. Some way to survive. Oh, Y. Oh, dear Y.

In that moment, in the instant before Atoy Muzazi's life was ended, his mind screamed backwards -- searching in desperation for anything, anything that could save him. Every fight, every battle, every conversation. Somewhere, somewhere, there had to be something.

The words that floated to the top of his frothing consciousness were more recent than Muzazi had expected. Something his opponent had said, just over five minutes ago.

Your bones are dust… your name is shit… so why am I still hearing your words, Damon?!

Atoy Muzazi did not have a plan. However, the heart was a curious thing. Often, it drove one to act without the mind -- its partner -- being aware of it at all.

The heart might drive one to pull a trigger without realizing it.

The heart might drive one to swing a sword without realizing it.

And, without them even realizing it, the heart might drive one to speak…

“Quantum King!”

Atoy Muzazi roared those words -- and he exploded into light.

Like with Full Throttle, Muzazi created thrusters all over his body -- but this time they were slightly different. Each and every one of them was pointed outwards, and each and every one of them was blazing with all their might. Atoy Muzazi became a silhouette of radiance, and everything around him…

…was pushed away by the glow.

Mereloco went flying backwards, as if a car had struck him -- the only thing stopping him from fully zooming off being the remnants of his chariot. He seized hold of one of the fluttering reins, his face contorted by exertion as he looked up at Muzazi, squinting against the light. Blood poured from his ravaged arm and foot, but he didn't spare them a glance. His eyes were focused right on the enemy before him.

No doubt he was thinking of a new way to kill him.

But why, then, had his expression… softened?

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Mereloco clung to the debris.

With tired and resigned eyes, he looked on -- and watched as Atoy Muzazi erupted into the sun. This was an incomplete version of Damon's ability -- just the pushing, and indiscriminate -- but it was enough to give him pause. He sighed, his breath superheated by combat and emerging as steam.

It had been a while, hadn't it?

Atoy Muzazi floated in place, the omnidirectional pushing keeping him stationary in the sky, a wide sphere of sheer repulsion surrounding him. Nothing would be able to come close… but he'd tire himself out before long. Even through the blinding glow, though, he could see Muzazi's eyes. They were just as tired as his, but they… they were looking past the horizon, gazing at something only he could see.

Ah… there you are, Damon.

He understood now why Atoy Muzazi enraged him so. It wasn't just that he'd used the same words as Damon. It wasn't just that he'd used the same ability as Damon. It was those eyes. The same eyes.

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The eyes he'd been betrayed by… no. The eyes he'd betrayed.

Back then… why did I have to go and do that?

Damon had fought for so many things. Mereloco had only fought for Damon. Damon had been blessed by so many things. Mereloco had only been blessed by Damon. Damon had wanted many things. Mereloco had only needed Damon.

After all… he was that man's shadow.

Any second now, Atoy Muzazi would finally fall unconscious and this clumsy Quantum King would end. Mereloco would leap right back into the fray and finish his wounded foe off. He would advance one round further in the Dawn Contest… one step closer to a crown he didn't even care about.

“I hope you wake in a kinder world than this.”

That had been Damon’s wish… the last he’d heard from him, before the ice had claimed his mind. But it hadn’t come true. This wasn’t a kinder world. Nothing had changed at all. The cruelty might look different, but the amount hadn’t changed in the slightest. Why? Why?

A stupid question. Mereloco knew why perfectly well.

After he’d been woken up by Halcyon Interstellar, he’d gone to the history books out of muted curiosity. He’d wanted to know what had become of Damon and his quest. It had been just as he’d expected: without the aid of his consort, Damon had been betrayed by his warriors and cut down as he tried to disassemble the Supremacy. His murderer came to be known as Ragnar the Redeemer, and Damon came to be known as… the Mad Supreme, as Damon the Devilish.

At the time, he’d thought that meant nothing to him. The boiling in his blood, the wetness in his eyes… they were only because he was still recovering from the hibernation. He did not understand the contents of his own soul.

But now… he understood. He could see past the horizon. He could see what Damon could see.

The reason that this world was no kinder, no matter how much time had passed. Even though that same light now shone in Atoy Muzazi’s eyes, and surely had shone in many others over the last two centuries… over the last thousand years…

Even though there would always be people like Damon… there would always be people like Mereloco, too.

Damon smiled sadly. “Why do you go so far for me, old friend?”

Mereloco shrugged. “I'm your shadow,” he said. “I'll stretch as far as you need me to.”

Damon's smile dropped. “That's not true. I call you as you are. You're my friend, Mere.”

Under the rushing wind, Mereloco chuckled.

“The only one I've got.”

The heart truly was a curious thing.

He released his Aether… and in an instant, the pain was upon him. He was unconscious before he could even draw the breath to scream.

----------------------------------------

“Sir,” the nurse pleaded, pursuing her patient down the corridor. “Please, I must insist -- you’re in no state -- you need rest -- you need --”

Morgan Nacht paid her no mind. He just continued to stagger down the hallway, face covered in sweat, clinging to the wall. His legs felt like they’d collapse beneath him any second… but he wouldn’t let them.

H, H, H… he repeated in his head, purple Aether sparking weakly as he did so. The use of Heal/Hurt only intensified the pain he was feeling, but it was just enough to keep moving for the time being. Pain he could put up with.

Losing Atoy Muzazi he couldn’t. Right now, he couldn’t allow himself to fall.

“Sir!” the nurse repeated, grabbing him by the shoulder. “I must insist!”

Morgan was just about to shake her off, to continue his long and fruitless march, when he heard the sound of the videograph in the distance. It must have been coming from the lobby.

“Oh, and we’re now receiving confirmation! Emerald Eyes are back online… and yes! Yes! As you can see, the winner of this match… is Atoy Muzaziii!”

Morgan’s vision blurred into a haze.

Oh. Thank Y.

Then he allowed himself to fall.

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The Shepherdess sipped her tea as she watched the conclusion of the match on the videograph.

There hadn’t been much point in coming to the Arena of the Absolute for this. She could have just watched the match from home and had the same experience. It seemed that this crop of candidates didn’t care much for fighting inside the lines. That was a good trait for a Supreme… but still, it made evaluating them much more inconvenient.

Well, the match had ended pretty much as she’d expected, at any rate. Mereloco had possessed monstrous strength -- his Unthroned was an ability that would give even her trouble -- but his drive to become Supreme had been flimsy at best. A half-formed flame of spite that would have smoldered out given the chance. If she’d allowed Mereloco to become Supreme, she’d have been looking at another Kadmon in the best-case scenario. In the worst case, perhaps another Henri.

There was a rhythm to the reign of kings. After someone lazy, someone active. After someone cruel, someone kind -- or someone who at least could reign in their cruelty. You had to balance the legacies out, or else the world would start to stagnate.

The Supremacy was an instrument she’d learned how to play long ago.

Still… Mereloco had possessed the wisdom to be wary of her, if nothing else -- even if he didn’t quite understand why. His remark during the interview had proved that. There might have been something that could have been nurtured there.

Oh well! No use crying about spilt milk! Some faction or other would probably finish him off before long.

After all, Atoy Muzazi certainly hadn’t done it.

The picture on the videograph was of Mereloco and Atoy Muzazi, both of them lying motionless on the balcony of a high-rise. After Mereloco had succumbed to that poison and fallen unconscious, plummeting into the city-abyss, Muzazi had swept down and saved him -- carrying him to safety before falling unconscious himself.

The Shepherdess rolled her eyes. A soft touch. You always got these sorts of people, too.

A warrior who saved his enemies from death. Atoy Muzazi was weak. Not physically, or in terms of Aether -- she had no complaints there -- but in resolve. A true warrior would have cut Mereloco down the second they got the chance. This Muzazi wasn’t the kind of person she could leave in charge of her Supremacy.

Dragan Hadrien still gave her a bad feeling, so she didn’t want him, and none of the other Contestants inspired much interest in her. It would definitely have to be Ruth Blaine, then. The Shepherdess stared at her through the reflection on the videograph. Her loyal bodyguard was happily chatting away to those friends of hers. Right now, just like Atoy Muzazi, she was soft.

But the Shepherdess knew how to deal with that. She’d had a lot of practice.

“This Supremacy of mine… will you make it last for me, Ruri…?”

Silent and unseen, she let her lips spread out into their usual sharp grin.

I will, Az. I will.