The clearing fell silent as Siddharth reached the center, his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd.

"For those who have come," Siddharth's voice cut through the stillness, deep and resonant, "I remind you—this is not a spectacle. This is not a game. This is not for your amusement."

He didn’t need to shout; the silence around him ensured that every person heard him clearly.

“This is about survival. Nothing more, nothing less."

Alonso watched him closely, the calm authority in his voice only amplifying the tension.

"Those who stand here today, understand this—there is no glory in needless bloodshed. There is no honor in arrogance. There is only truth in strength, in resilience, in knowing your limits."

Siddharth’s gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on some faces before settling on Alonso.

"We stand here today," Siddharth began, "not to witness a simple duel, but to judge a man. A man who has violated the most sacred rule of our Oasis—Alonso, the murderer of three of our own."

The crowd shifted uneasily, the tension palpable. Alonso remained still, his gaze locked on Siddharth.

"Oleg Sokolov, Nia Takanaka, and Varun Rao," Siddharth continued. "They were on patrol duty, fulfilling their responsibilities to this fragile community, and yet they were struck down by Alonso's hand. The rules of this place are clear: murder is sentenced by death."

The crowd murmured, but it was subdued, the weight of the situation sinking in.

"I dislike bloodshed," Siddharth said, his voice slightly softer, but no less firm. "It serves no purpose but to feed the chaos we all try to escape from. But a society without rules is a society destined to crumble. Without order, without consequence, this Oasis would collapse into anarchy, and the bloodshed that follows would be far worse. It would be endless."

There was a pause, and Alonso could sense the shift in the atmosphere. The strictness in Siddharth’s tone remained, but something deeper began to surface, something less rigid.

"And yet, we recognize that strength is vital for our survival. If someone truly strong comes forward, someone capable of facing the trials ahead with great resilience, then their worth cannot be ignored. That is why, when the law is broken, we offer two choices: a ceremonial execution or the opportunity to fight me, to prove their right to live."

Siddharth’s words were harsh, but Alonso could detect a slight undercurrent of something more.

“This trial by combat is not offered as a privilege,” Siddharth continued, his eyes narrowing as they bore into Alonso. “It is given to those who have failed—those who must prove they still have any worth to this Oasis. Your strength, if it exists, must not only serve yourself but serve us all. If you are strong enough, if you can survive what I bring against you, then maybe—maybe—you have a place here. But do not mistake this for mercy.”

He took another step forward, his presence looming larger, the air around him growing colder. “The rules we live by are not mere suggestions. They are the only thing keeping us from tearing each other apart. You, Alonso, broke those rules. You killed three of our own—Oleg, Nia, and Varun. They were not just names on a list. They were people, committed to this community, and you ended their lives.”

Siddharth’s tone hardened, each word cutting like a blade. "By your hand, blood was spilled in a place that cannot afford loss. You fractured the peace we fight to maintain here. And for that, there must be consequences."

The crowd remained silent, the weight of Siddharth’s words heavy in the air, every face turned toward Alonso, waiting.

“You want to survive? Then fight not just for yourself, but for those you’ve wronged. This is no simple duel for glory. This is about paying for what you’ve taken. Prove to us all that your life has value—prove it, or lose it.”

Siddharth’s eyes narrowed, the atmosphere thick with the gravity of the moment. “Understand this: your place here will not be won by strength alone. It will be won by blood, by will, and by the price you are willing to pay. Today, you fight not just to survive. You fight to atone for the lives you’ve taken. This is your only path.”

He paused, letting the silence settle over the crowd like a shroud before his voice turned cold, almost cruel. "Alonso, before this begins—do you have anything to say for yourself? This will be your last chance before you face me, in a fight where only one may walk away."

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Alonso remained serious, but his heart was beating faster. He could feel the weight of every gaze on him, almost tangible, like the air itself was pressing down.

The pressure was unlike anything he had faced before. He wasn’t just the center of attention for simple onlookers; these were true warriors—people who had lived through bloodshed, violence, and chaos, people who understood death. But… he, too, was a warrior now.

Alonso’s gaze swept through the crowd, momentarily stopping on Chiara. Her expression was unreadable, her face a mask of indifference. He then glanced at Ayu, whose worry was clear in her eyes, though she remained silent. He felt their tension, but his own confidence began to rise, a fire inside him that couldn’t be extinguished by fear or doubt.

Taking a breath, Alonso straightened, addressing the crowd. "I’m not proud of what I did." His voice was steady, though edged with heat. "I never wanted to kill anyone—never in my life. I abhor it. I would’ve done anything to avoid it. But I will not submit. I will not put my life into the hands of strangers."

He paused, his voice growing firmer. "I can’t afford to. Not after everything I’ve been through. Not with the people waiting for me." His gaze swept over the crowd again. "All I’ve ever wanted was to be left alone. Let me be, and I won’t mess with anyone here. Hell, I’ll even help you in the trials ahead, whatever they are."

Alonso’s tone shifted, softer now, more solemn. He bowed slightly. "I know it’s pointless to say this now, but I truly am sorry. To Oleg, to Nia, to Varun—I’m sorry."

The apology hung in the air, sincere but without expectation of forgiveness.

He straightened again, his voice steady. "I don’t want this fight. I don’t want to continue this cycle of killing. I’ll prove my worth in other ways if you let me."

The crowd was still, the tension thick.

Alonso’s gaze hardened, locking onto Siddharth’s. His voice dropped, cold and sharp, the words hanging like ice in the air.

"I don’t want to kill you, Siddharth."

Silence seemed to freeze the space around them as the cold words left Alonso’s lips. Then, like a spark igniting dry tinder, a murmur rippled through the crowd. Eyes widened in disbelief, some hands flew to faces, trying to stifle the smirks or the laughter threatening to burst out.

Chiara’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as her lips pressed into a thin line.

Ayu, on the other hand, almost dropped her jaw in shock. Her face flushed as veins bulged at her temples, and she barely managed to clamp a hand over her mouth, stopping the angry outburst that nearly erupted from her.

Siddharth’s expression remained composed, though a flicker of amusement danced behind his eyes. He let the murmurs of disbelief in the crowd settle before responding, his voice calm, yet carrying an edge of authority.

“You don’t want to kill me, Alonso?” Siddharth’s tone was steady, but there was a trace of something deeper beneath it—amusement, perhaps, or curiosity. “That’s an interesting thing to say. Bold, even. You’ve made your stance clear, but do you truly believe you can avoid what’s coming?”

Alonso’s eyes narrowed, his body still tense and even slightly nervous. “I don’t need to believe, Siddharth. I’ve survived worse than this—worse than you. I didn’t come here to die, and I certainly didn’t come here to submit.”

Siddharth’s lips curved ever so slightly at the corners, the closest thing to a smile anyone had seen from him. “Confidence. Good. You’ll need it. But confidence without clarity is a dangerous thing, Alonso. I have nothing to prove here. This Oasis is my responsibility. The life of its people is on my hands, and I protect them at all costs. You, however…” His eyes sharpened, his voice lowering, more serious now. “You have everything to prove.”

Alonso’s gaze never wavered. “I’ve already proven myself, Siddharth. To survive here, alone, with no one to help—I've done more than many. You don’t know what I’ve been through, and I don’t owe you anything. Not my fear, not my submission, nothing.”

Siddharth took a step forward, closing the distance between them slightly, his aura of control tightening around him. “You think your journey is unique? You think you’re the first to suffer, to fight against impossible odds? This place tests all of us. And those who break the rules—those who take lives—do not get to dictate their fate. You may think yourself invincible now, but reality has a way of humbling even the most stubborn.”

Alonso’s fists clenched at his sides, his voice growing harder. “I don’t need your lectures. I didn’t come here for that. If you want a fight, Siddharth, I’ll give you one. But don’t pretend this is about the Oasis or your so-called rules. This is about power. Your power. And you’re afraid that someone might take it from you.”

A flicker of something darker crossed Siddharth’s face, but he maintained his calm exterior, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. “You misunderstand, Alonso. Power is a burden, not a privilege. I have seen men like you—brash, confident, unyielding. And I have watched them fall, one by one, when faced with the weight of true responsibility. You are not the first, and you will not be the last.”

Alonso’s eyes remained locked on Siddharth’s, unflinching, his tone equally cold and deliberate. “Siddharth, I will say this one last time: let’s go our own way. I want nothing from your society. I need no help. I can fend for myself, and I will not cause more trouble. But… if we fight, YOU.WILL.DIE.”

For the first time, the murmurs in the crowd fell completely silent, the weight of Alonso’s words settling over them like a cold mist.

Siddharth’s expression didn’t waver. “Then so be it.”

Siddharth leveled his gaze at Alonso, his voice calm and final.

“No more words. Let the death match… begin.”