About five minutes prior…

The dungeons below the Coliseum were dark and dirty, the air had a foul stench that seemed to have circulated around it for so long. Dimly it, one could only see the silhouettes of the people caged in each of its numerous holding cells. Each cell was overcrowded, with barely any room to even breathe. The captured ones inside were starting to starve, barely having eaten anything since their abduction almost two nights ago.

They could hear the people’s thunderous cheering and occasionally a loud scream, followed by shaking of the ground around them. After a while, four soldiers take a person from a random cell, then escorted the unfortunate one to his fate up on the amphitheater’s central stage. The vicious cycle continued, and with each person taken, the rest became more scared of whatever would happen to them if they were to be picked next.

On the other hand, Arthur at least tried to keep calm, holding his wife’s hand tightly. Unlike the rest, they did not make a sound, rather, they stayed quiet at a corner in their cell. They huddled each other and just looked down on the ground. Hailey, however, could not completely hold her emotions as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks each time they hear a person being dragged out of the cells.

“Why are they doing this to us? This is insane,” she spoke, softly as to not attract any attention.

The husband had no answer for her question, instead gripped her hand even more tightly.

After taking three more people, the soldiers stopped at their cell and looked inside, looking for their next prey.

“That one, at the corner over there,” one soldier ordered the others, pointing at where Hailey was sitting.

At that moment, as soon as she heard and saw them pointing at her direction, she began to panic to the point where her voice started to crack with her screaming. While Arthur struggled to calm her down, he himself was also to the breaking point, but he still tried to keep his calm and prepared to protect his wife at all cost. The soldiers, on the other hand, looked at the commotion that they caused with disgust while holding their laughter.

“Not you, bitch. That one at your back. I know you’re hiding there, kid. If you want this to be over really quick, show yourself and come over here!” the soldier shouted, his commanding tone reverberated on the dungeon’s walls.

The couple, still in a state of panic, turned around to see who the soldiers were pertaining to.

Hiding behind Hailey, the little boy tucked himself as hard as he could, hoping that they would not find him. He was dirty all over, showing that he had been living out on the streets for a long time. It was obvious at first glance that he was a brash kid with little respect to authority, but still being a kid, he was also afraid of the consequences that his actions often results to.

Unfortunately for the kid, though, the soldier had kept a tab with him, and as soon as he saw that the child did not comply to his command, he weaved his way inside the cell and grabbed the boy by the arm. The kid attempted to flee, even going as far as clawing the soldier’s arm, to no avail. He was defiant to the end, using all of his remaining strength to at least put a halt to the soldier’s pull.

“Don’t fight it, kid. You know this will happen to you eventually. You don’t have anyone else to blame but yourself, haha. This is what you get from messing up with us!” the soldier spoke as he dragged the helpless child through the crowd inside.

The doctor looked at the others, observing them as they watched the scene happening right in front of them. Not one did anything to stop the soldier, as they were afraid of the repercussion if anyone tried to.

But Arthur, driven by the oath that he swore to, made his move, to the surprise and horror of everyone. He grabbed the soldier’s arm, and forced him to let go of the kid.

“Isn’t that enough? He’s just a kid, mind you,” he told the soldier, keeping his tone as civil as he could.

The soldier did not take his intervention lightly, answering the doctor with a fist on the face. Shocked at what the soldier did to Arthur, Hailey almost immediately ran to her husband’s care, only to be gently brushed off by him. He stood up slowly, still a bit dazed, and pulled the kid on his back with Hailey.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? This one’s just a kid. Are you really going to stoop this low, huh!? And they call you the finest.”

Not taking the insult well, the soldier punched Arthur for the second time, and after he stood up again, he took the liberty to give the doctor one more. Beaten, yet undeterred, Arthur took a stand for the third time, the onlookers observed the action in both awe and pity. The soldier, fearing that Arthur’s insubordination would spark a riot amongst the prisoners, came to a decisive resolution.

“You know what, you win. We’ll take you there first. You wish to die so badly, I’m going to grant that wish!” he said to Arthur, grinning as he held the collar of the doctor’s coat.

“As for you,” he turned his head at the kid, who was still hiding behind Hailey, “You’re next.”

They then took the helpless doctor away, much to their amusement and Hailey’s despair, forcefully guiding him on the long stairway to the surface. The cheers and chants of the audience growing louder with every step, the sun began to be brighter on Arthur’s vision as he climbed the stairs towards his uncertain fate.

***

“It really has been a while since I last sat on a gladiatorial arena. Magistrates these days, they demolish their arenas because they think it’s too barbaric. Heh! If I’m in charge, I would’ve thrown their asses off to the battlefield to let them see what true hell is like. These people, they do their best to appease to the Council, they’re cowards, all of them!!”

Emissary Julius was rambling on his thought about the other magistrates that he encounters every annual inspection as they arrived at the area in the Coliseum for administration personnel. To appease to the Emissary’s taste, Plio ordered its massive overhaul, complete with a golden chair that has cushions made of the finest feathers stuffed in velvet cloth and a banquet of the most zesting food that they could offer. Behind the chair was the insignia of the Empire in its full glory. It was situated in the middle of the amphitheater’s north side, letting them see the action on the center area without their eyes straining.

To the magistrate’s chagrin, though, Julius did not notice the preparations that he made, instead looking right at the action. Julius did gave a complement on the chair, but his eyes were glued at the center stage.

“Whoa,” Julius exclaimed, seeing the state of the arena.

Several bloodied bodies were scattered on the dirt, evidently the cause of death was a crushing blow that either resulted in at least massive internal bleeding or at worst open fractures that made the bodies into mushes of their former selves. The one responsible for all the kills stood at the center of the stage, eagerly waiting for his next victim. Towering at over seven feet tall, having a heavy muscular build and a simple yet intimidating black cloth that covered his head, the Executioner carried a large ball-and-chain flail as his weapon of choice. The massive mace had splatters of blood still dripping from the damages that the weapon had inflicted on its casualties. The hunk of steel was attached to the wooden handle by an ethereal misteria chain that shone silvery white.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Where’s the next one already!? My flail is hungry for more insurgent blood!” the Executioner shouted at the doors where the prisoners get out to their doom, intended to instill even more fear at whoever was next on the line.

After a minute of waiting, a figure could be seen walking out of the doors. A middle-aged man entered the arena, wearing a bloodied white coat and blue shirt, muddied black pants and slippers. The crowd cheered once more as the spectacle resumed, but the Executioner was more intrigued than excited.

Arthur looked at him not with fear, but with integrity. Unafraid of his predicament, he stood ground, to the fascination of both the Executioner and Julius himself, who looked at this person with fascination.

“You don’t seem to be afraid of what’s about to happen to you. Excellent, excellent!! I love breaking wills more than just the bodies!! Oh, this is going to be fun!!” the Executioner complemented the doctor, laughing as he started to swing the mace in a circular motion, going faster with every swing.

The steel mace began to emit currents of electricity as it was spun faster, and the ethereal chains elongated a bit for maximum potential energy. Feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins, the Executioner applied more misteria energy to the flail, hell bent on seeing the body vaporized. The weight and speed of the mace brought the air with it, like a tornado being formed around him. This scene has sparked even more cheering from the crowd, and the Emissary continued to observe the action with utmost anticipation.

“Splendid, splendid!! Stay like that, this will be quick!! I’ll make sure that you’ll be sent off with a bang!!”

He could not hear anything, not the crowd, not even the winds that was picking up speed around him. Arthur closed his eyes, blanketing himself in darkness. His perception of time slowed down as the thoughts of his wife and two children came to him.

Hailey…

Ren…

Tsukihime…

I’m sorry… it seems that I won’t be with you anymore.

Arthur opened his eyes and stared at the sky with the sun still shining brightly, but it did not stop him from doing so.

God, if you’re truly real, please take care of my family in my place.

…

May my sacrifice wake up the will to be free of the real people of this Earth.

He then stared back at the Executioner, grinning as he spread his arms as if to goad him to execute him already.

“Hah! Your wish is my command, pest!!” he retorted, finally redirecting the direction of the mace towards Arthur.

Everyone’s eyes were glued to the stage, eagerly waiting for the inevitable to happen. On Arthur, all that he could see was a bright yellowish white light that quickly approached him. His legs were anchored to the ground, himself ready to accept his fate.

But out of nowhere…

“Not yet.”

The massive piece of steel was stopped on its path by a destructive interception from the side. Instead of hitting the intended target, it was veered off course and instead landed hard on Arthur’s far left side, blowing dirt and debris as the result of the sudden release of energy. Both the audience and the administration were left open-mouthed at the event that occurred. Even Arthur himself was dumbfounded, making him fall down on his behind as his legs gave out.

“What the--- who dares interrupt the execution!? Who are you to defy the will of the Empire itself!?” the Executioner demanded answers, trying to pull the mace towards him, only to fail spectacularly.

As the dust settled down, a boy could be seen dragging the mace with only his left hand. He wore a dark grey jacket with a white shirt underneath, the shirt having an imprinted insignia in the middle, and a pair of black carpenter jeans, something that no one had ever seen before. The footwear that he wore was also radically different, being a pair of white and red high cut sneakers. His overall appearance really gave the impression of him being from a different time period.

Seeing the bodies around them, he began to give off a sinister vibe, enough for the Executioner to back off a bit. He and the boy met eye-to-eye, and there he saw the fire of wrath seemingly burning on the boy’s black irises. The flow of misteria around them changed, a prelude to the battle no one expected.

Stopping at his tracks, Noire finally spoke at their midst.

“Just a traveler passing through.”

***

Still carrying the metal mace, he approached the still Arthur, his look changing from sinister to gentle.

“You okay, mate? Come on, let me help you,” he said, offering his hand to the doctor, which took the offer and let Noire help him get up. As he inspected Arthur, the boy noticed his bloodied coat.

“You're a doctor?” he asked.

Arthur could only nod, confirming Noire’s first inquiry.

“Then you must know someone named Tsukihime. Do not worry, she and Ren are safe. They’re on their way here now.”

As soon as he heard those words, he began to burst down in tears, knowing that his children are okay.

“Now, now, we still have a problem in our hands,” he said, shaking Arthur’s shoulders.

The boy then turned around again, his demeanor turning back on the sinister side. The Executioner still struggled on pulling back his weapon, which Noire held by his left hand. With spite, Noire let go of the weapon just as the Executioner did another pull, the resulting inertia of the weapon’s mass sent him off center. Humiliated in front of everyone, his anger has reached boiling point as well, gripping the handle of the flail so hard he almost destroyed it.

“You… you will pay for that! I will kill---no, I’ll make you suffer so much you wish you’re dead!!!” the Executioner’s threats were delivered with pure anger, his expression showed utter hate towards the stranger. With that said, he began to swing the mace again, adding even more power to every swing as he transferred all of his anger to the mace itself.

“Hahaha, try to grab this one now, you insolent pest!!”

Noire, unfazed by the display of power, just stood still. He looked back at Arthur, telling him to go as far away to him as possible, and then returned his focus on the now electrified Executioner in front of him.

“TAKE THIS!!!”

He let the mace loose, the ethereal chains multiplying to compensate for the distance it travelled. It went straight towards Noire, which still stood his ground.

But then, at the last moment, he sidestepped the incoming mace, the weapon completely missing its mark. It violently landed on the ground, making an impact crater near the boy.

“Hah! I’m not done yet!!!” the Executioner said just as Noire felt something strange.

The mace began to move again, still on full speed towards the boy, Noire now doing a full dodge by lowering his upper torso towards the ground. Just as he landed his hands on the ground, the steel ball did an impossible turn and again moved at full speed at its target. Noire dodged this one by a roll and immediately got to a running stance, correctly guessing that the weapon would still be in pursuit of him. He began to run on the arena, the mace in pursuit of him from behind.

The Executioner began to laugh loudly, knowing that the fight has ended before it even began.

“That mace will follow you wherever you go. There is NO escape. You will be hit no matter what!!!” he shouted, the crowd cheering as he did.

The chain multiplied to no end, covering the circumference of the arena as Noire continued to run away from the mace.

“Face it, you’re going to suffer no matter what you do. If you surrender now, I could still forgive you and lower your punishment,” the Executioner tried to offer a deal to the boy.

At the spur of the moment, though, Noire stopped at his tracks after a long dash in front of the Executioner.

“Deal?” he asked, completely oblivious of the boy’s plan.

Giving him a grin in return, Noire whispered to the Executioner, “No, but I have something for you instead.”

It was then that he realized the boy’s plan: to redirect the mace towards him. He tried to escape, but the boy broke his right kneecap, making him scream in agony, then quickly got behind his muscular body, grabbing his arms towards his back.

“Aaaaaahh!! No, this is not happening!!! Release me!! RELEASE ME!!!!!”

It was too late. The mace already made its way to him, critically damaging his ribs and lungs. The impact was so devastating he vomited a lot of blood from it, and the weapon was stuck on his body as a result. He lied down, his chest area bleeding profusely, as the crowd watched in horror. The boy then approached him again, with Noire now staring above the wounded Executioner.

“No, please. It’s not my fault! I was just told by the higher-ups to do this! Please, don’t kill me!! I don’t want to die yet!!! PLEASE!!!” the Executioner pleaded to the boy, their roles now reversed and his manners turning a complete opposite one.

Noire instead gave his answer with a menacing step on the mace, giving the Executioner even more pain.

“What’s that you said to me? You’ll make me suffer that I’m going to wish I’m dead?” Noire spoke with an ominous tone, his raging stare inflicting fear on the Executioner.

“Worry not. I’m not going to kill you.”

The boy grabbed the Executioner’s hand so tightly, it almost crushed the bones on his palm. After grabbing the arm with his left, Noire stepped on the mace once again to inflict maximum agony on the wounded.

“But, for what you have done here, I’m going to make you wish I did!!!” he loudly said as he ripped off the right arm of the Executioner, fresh blood squirting from the now armless shoulder joint. The crowd gasped in horror as they witnessed a brutal conclusion to the short skirmish between a veteran killing machine and a stranger from nowhere.