Jay stared at his older brother. Jaw hanging completely open.

He looked almost identical to the day he died.

The Julian in the ring was only nineteen, six years younger than Jay. But Jay felt as little as ever looking at his big brother in the ring. He felt thirteen again. He felt just like he did when he ran a-

NO!

Jay tried to fight back the memories. But how could he? He had a golden shining reminder of them right in front of him.

He’d fought so hard over the last week, he was finally starting to find a place for himself in the coliseum, finally starting to accept his new reality, to believe he was a real gladiator.

Useless.

Faced with a real fighter, Jay saw himself for what he really was.

A coward.

Jay collapsed to his knees. He wished he had hands to rip the useless, self-destructive thoughts from his brain. Instead, he closed his eyes and hoped it would all go away.

It wouldn’t.

Jay twisted away from his brother, wanting to look anywhere but the ring.

Half an hour ago, he’d praised the coliseum’s eye for drama.

Fuck you Second Chance Coliseum. Fuck you whoever did this.

Jay didn’t care that he was in the middle of a trial, he didn’t feel an ounce of regret as he screamed into the void to pull him out and throw him into the ocean.

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The void didn’t respond.

Jay was left in silence, facing three defeated opponents and refusing to look at his next.

He lay there, drinking in the hateful silence that wrapped around him like barbed wire.

He lay there and felt like shit.

Every other time he’d felt this way, someone had been there to draw his attention elsewhere, make him focus on something productive instead of focusing on how much of a useless coward he was.

Now he was alone.

Now he was fucking alone.

The voice of reason inside Jay's head told him to stop feeling sorry for himself. To get up and fight rather than wallow in uselessness. To do something, anything.

Jay told that voice to shut the fuck up.

He didn’t care what reason had to say. Reason couldn’t fill the cavernous hole that loss had left inside him. Reason couldn’t bring Jay’s big brother back.

But there was another voice whispering in Jay's ear.

Another voice trying to rouse him out of his stupor.

A quieter voice, but a much stronger one.

The voice of hope.

Reason might be correct, it might make sense and tell him to do the right thing, but it didn’t inspire him. It didn’t make him stand and fight when he wanted nothing but to sink into the ground and cease to exist.

Hope did.

Jay didn’t tell the voice of hope to shut up. He didn’t want to. Because he really, really, wanted the voice of hope to be correct. Julian had never used a golden dagger in his life, but he held one now. The voice of hope gave Jay a reason why.

What if Julian never died twelve years ago?

What if he went to the Coliseum too?

It was a long shot, and it had no proof other than the illusion in front of him. But Jay clung onto the hope like it was the only think in the world that mattered.

In a way it was.

If his brother was alive then maybe Jay could find him.

Maybe he could apologise.

Jay forced himself up. As much as he yearned to stay bound by the comforting shackles of self-loathing, he couldn’t. If there was even a chance his brother was out there, Jay had to try and find him. And that started with the fight right in front of him.

He forced himself to look at his brother’s face. Julian’s warm amber eyes didn’t meet Jay's teary grey ones.

Until he stepped in the ring, he didn’t deserve it.

It was easy to tell himself to go in there and fight, easy to tell himself to push through it, to power through and do it for his brother. But it was easy to tell yourself anything. Every time Jay built up the courage to step foot in the ring, the sight of his brother pushed him away. It wasn’t just a picture, or a video of the past. The Julian in front of him looked fucking real. A sight that had once been reserved only for Jay's nightmares.

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How could Jay bring himself to fight his brother. His dead brother. His hero.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Jay could have sworn he heard his lost brothers voice call out to him. But he was all alone.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Coach’s voice joined in chorus with Julian’s.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” Jay told himself. His voice cracked, emotion pouring through.

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Jay finally worked up the courage to take his first step into the ring.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and fight.”

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Jay didn’t know what was worse, having to fight his brother, or the fact that Julian was smiling the whole time.

Jay fought on instincts, he enjoyed fighting more than most boxers, but he still had to knuckle down and focus every time he stepped into the ring. Julian had no such limitation. Jay's big brother had always been a cheerful guy, but the only times Jay had seen true joy on his brother’s face were all inside the boxing ring.

Nostalgia didn’t make the smile any less painful. It was a smile Jay had missed out on for the last twelve years. Julian would be thirty-one by now. The prime of his career.

How many rings had that smile been snatched from? How many great fights had been taken from the world?

Jay couldn’t drag himself back into that pit. He had a fight to win. Jay analysed his brother’s style, if he really did come to Eterna, what essences would his brother wield? Jay was led to those that related to his background and nickname. Would his brother be the same?

Coach called Jay “Lightning” because he was fast, but that wasn’t the only reason. His brother had already taken one nickname reserved for quick boxers.

Flash.

Would Julian have control over the essence of the flash? The essence of light?

Jules had another nickname, one seldom used in the gym, but instead plastered near the top of every list of the world’s best boxing prospects. A name Julian wrestled from the clutches of Oscar De La Hoya as soon as he retired.

Golden Boy.

What would the essence of gold look like?

Jay didn’t have to wait long to find out. A gold sheen washed over Julian's entire body, tinting him in metallic yellow. When the light struck perfectly, a corona of golden light wrapped around him.

Gold wasn’t the hardest metal, but it was still metal. Jay didn’t want to slam a kick into his brother’s gold-plated leg. But what choice did he have. He didn’t have a weapon, and even if he did, he had no hands to hold it with.

Jay broke down his brother’s stance using Eye of the storm. Julian hopped forwards and backwards, his hands dropped even lower than they sat when he boxed. He held the dagger in his dominant right, but with a very loose grip. It looked like it could slip out of his fingertips at any moment.

Julian dropped his right even lower. About to throw the dagger. Jay didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Sure enough, Julian released the blade in an underhanded throw straight at Jay’s face.

The darting dagger became a crawling one as Jay intensified Eye of the storm. Jay wanted to catch the blade, but since he couldn’t, he slipped his head to the side.

It was an easy dodge. Eye of the storm compounded with Jay's stormforged cells significantly reduced his reaction time. He tried to evade the dagger by the tiniest amount, wasting no energy on needless movement and letting it pass mere millimetres from his neck.

As it flew by him, Jay felt the metal edge press against his skin. It didn’t cut him, he’d noticed it before it pierced the skin, but it was about to. Jay leaned further away. Had he miscalculated, misjudged the trajectory?

The blade pressed into him again.

No. It’s moving mid-air!

Jay dodged further away, twisting to face the dagger. Was this Julian’s power? Manipulating his dagger after throwing it at his opponents?

What happened to boxing?

Jay caught the flicker of movement in his periphery. There was no tell, Julian didn’t run, or even walk, forward. He simply moved. It reminded Jay of Jana, the Iron Whip. Just like how she effortlessly swung around the gorilla, Julian advanced without even attempting to make a step.

And he was quick too, Julian accelerated even faster than the Goldenback.

Jay took a step back, positioning himself further from both Julian and his dagger. Julian didn’t turn to follow him, instead speeding towards the airborne dagger. But the dagger had moved. Instead of carrying on ahead, the blade had turned to face Jay and had begun to inch its way towards him.

Was this Julian’s power? A two headed dragon, the dagger drawing his opponent’s attention and response while Jules rushed in to attack? It certainly added another dimension to his original boxing style.

The dagger drifted towards Jay. As long as he remained focused, it would never reach him, but there was an air of inevitability about the knife tailing his every move.

Julian caught up to the dagger and threw it again. Faster this time.

Still too slow.

Jay slipped to the left, leaving less than a foot between the knife and his neck. It was dangerous, but if Julian only advanced towards the knife, that would be the easiest way to draw him in close. Even though he had a greater speed advantage in this fight, Jay still faced the same problem as when he fought himself. Without his hands, he didn’t know how to advance or pressure his opponent. Sure, he’d learnt a new attack, but it was hardly enough. Magomed didn’t have much more to teach him, and the two boxers he’d already defeated wouldn’t be much use either.

Just as the flying dagger began to slow down and face Jay, Julian started his forward glide. Jay took another step to the side. He planted his left foot and scanned to see where the knife was. Close enough. As soon as Julian got within range, he’d fire.

This time, Jay wouldn’t go for pure damage. He was too wary about the gold sheen surrounding his brother. What if it formed a shield around Julian’s body whenever someone attacked? Jay didn’t want to take that risk, but he still had to attack.

To minimise any damage, Jay aimed for Julian’s thigh, and left the kick late to ensure it was his shin that made contact. It would bring his opponent, and his knife, closer but Jay didn’t want to injure himself. He was healed before, but only after he thought he’d died. What if stepping out of the ring didn’t heal him? What if Jay had to die in order to be healed?

Fuck that.

Julian was close. Just close enough. Jay began his swing with half an eye on the flying dagger, and the other eye and a half on his target. As Jay's leg got closer, the glistening shimmer around Julian coalesced into more than just light.

Beads of liquid gold skittered across the surface of Julian's thigh, fusing into a puddle at almost imperceptible speeds. If Jay wasn’t using Eye of the storm, he doubted he’d even see the gold forming.

The pool of liquid gold wrapped around Julian’s leg, it stayed there until Jay’s shin was within an inch. The smooth rippling surface bobbled and cracked, solidifying into an uneven solid plate precisely when it needed to.

Jay tried to back out of the kick, but it was too late. Momentum carried his leg forward no matter what he willed it to do. Jay's shin thudded against Julian's mercurial armour, the gold plating sending a prickly tremor down Jay's leg. The muffling claws of numbness sunk into Jay's shin as it bounced off the metal, barely leaving a mark.

The block stranded Jay on a one-legged island. The knife was even closer now. Jay tried to lean back, but he’d sent all his weight forward for the kick. He was trapped, his body pulling itself in two opposite directions. The numbness in Jay's right leg vanished, instantly replaced by the iron vice of Julian’s unyielding grip as he locked his hand around Jay’s ankle.

Jay tried to kick off the gravel with his one grounded foot, but only got pulled closer to his opponent. Julian's grip was unescapable. He yanked Jay closer to the knife.

Once more, Jay was helpless.

His only mercy was ending Eye of the storm before the golden dagger slit his throat.