Fuck.

By the time he braved the real world, opening his eyes to face reality, Jay was no longer in the arena.

Fuck.

It wasn’t just him and his gloves in the beige waiting room anymore. Davad’s belongings were laid out across the wooden floor in front of him.

Fuck.

Dead men had no belongings.

I’ve just killed someone.

Jay looked down at his hands. A murderer’s hands. Blood soaked, and heavy with the weight of another’s soul.

He’d gotten off lightly in his first two fights. The Goldenback gorilla, while it was certainly intelligent, wasn’t even close to a human. Valorus, the lightning had killed him. Even if Jay had redirected it his way.

But now? Now he’d really gone and done it.

Fuck.

Congratulations Lightning Leonard, you have won your third fight in the Second Chance Coliseum.

You have unlocked new privileges:

You may now connect skill crystals to the coliseum system, and challenge other gladiators to fights. These are the last coliseum system benefits until D grade.

Your profile has now been updated. Would you like to view it?

You have been awarded 1000 Contribution points, the Harbinger’s Wailing Grin, and the belongings of Davad, the Infernal Harpoon.

Your visa has been extended for 7 days.

Reading the golden screen in front of him gave Jay something to think about other than his blood-soaked hands.

Not that that mattered much, he’d have to face the truth eventually.

He opened his new rankings page, desperately seeking more information to focus his attention on.

Alias

Lightning Leonard

Organisation

Second Chance Coliseum (Soulbound)

Grade

E

Rank

500

Offence

453

Defence

561

Strategy

410

Instinct

410

Vitality

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

512

Speed

333

Big improvements, but do they mean anything?

Jay had risen hundreds of places in the rankings compared to an hour ago. But he felt nothing looking at the numbers on the screen. Were these numbers really what defined his worth? Was he becoming just as bad as Q and everyone else at the Flaming Tomb Alliance?

Jay dismissed the table and tried to shed the bleak, cynical thoughts along with it.

As he looked at Davad’s belongings spread across the floor, Jay realised that he probably wasn’t in the best headspace to be pondering his self-worth at the moment.

Fuck.

I’ve just killed someone.

It was easy to tell himself “It was you or him”. It was harder to make himself listen.

Jay closed his eyes and began to breathe, trying to carve a moment of peace from within the whirlwind of uncertainty. There was no point in wallowing in self-pity, but neither was there a point in totally ignoring it.

He was a gladiator now. This was his life. Refusing to acknowledge himself now would only give Jay more problems in the future.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Coach’s familiar words of advice comforted Jay within his meditative state, but as much as he longed to follow Coach’s orders, Jay didn’t think the advice helped right now. Jay wasn’t feeling sorry for himself, he was painfully coming to terms with his new reality. Coach’s advice had always worked in the ring. But Jay wasn’t in the ring anymore.

Coach wouldn’t be able to help him now. Coach had never murdered anyone.

Jay had.

Jay didn’t know Davad. He didn’t know his dreams, passions, hobbies or loved ones.

He knew nothing beyond what it had taken to kill him.

Davad had left this life behind, and his Harmony had left with him.

Jay didn’t even know what essences Davad wielded. Ezekiel probably didn’t either. And whoever did know… would they even remember?

Jay had ended more than just a man’s life. He’d erased his presence from the world, leaving nothing but a void in its place.

Harmony involved reforming the world in one’s image. Just as Jay affected his reality, so too had Davad.

Had.

And what of all that now? Would the world slowly shift backwards, disregarding the man’s influence, purging it so not even the annals of time would remember him?

Would the weight of another name reside on Jay’s shoulders now? He had just removed a burgeoning aspect of the world’s Harmony; did he need to take its place?

But what does that even mean?

Did Davad’s Harmony become part of his own, a burden he’d bear for the rest of his life?

Jay had his own dreams. He had his own Harmony to chase. He couldn’t carry the torch of another, even if he was the one who extinguished it.

He realised it was reductive to simply say it was me or him… But it was.

The future cared not for memories of the past, and Jay couldn’t worry about a body left in his wake.

He knew more would eventually join it.

Taking lives was the price for survival in the Second Chance Coliseum, at least in E grade. That wouldn’t change, regardless of what Jay thought of it. Jay had already squandered his first chance at life, he wasn’t about to gamble with his second over someone else.

Julian was out there, somewhere, and the only chance Jay had of finding him was by staying alive. Last time, Jay was too weak to save his brother. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Jay didn’t just need to be strong; he needed to be stronger than anyone in his way.

It didn’t matter who or what stood in front of him. Jay had to defeat them.

Jay’s mental gymnastics didn’t silence the thoughts in his mind, but it quietened them. The morbid thoughts of murder hushed beneath the voice of reason.

His blood-stained hands drooped under the weight of their actions, but it was consequence, not guilt, that pressed into him.

The sobering burden of murder’s permanence.

When Jay looked at the items spread out on the floor, he wasn’t repulsed anymore.

The loot can wait. Focus on the fight first.

Jay rested his back against the wall, closing his eyes and going back to the arena. Unlike his last fight, he didn’t have much to analyse. He’d entered the coliseum with a plan, and he’d executed it.

Of course, his plan wasn’t flawless, but he’d patched it together mid-fight. The shield had protected Davad, but it couldn’t do much to prevent Jay’s attacks. Jay’s mind lingered on the connection he’d felt with the shield but saved the thought for later. Preferably when he knew more about how the shield worked.

Going back to the fight, Jay couldn’t think of much more to take note of. Davad’s domain attack was surprising for all the wrong reasons, and he didn’t even get a chance to use his last resort.

One thing Jay could reflect on, was his preparation. His trip to the pits had proved fruitful. He doubted he could’ve won so decisively without Zara’s help and, even though Vega probably wouldn’t want to go back there, Jay would definitely go again.

Thinking of Vega made Jay consider his other friends. His relationship with Akira had certainly strained over the last few days, and Jay understood why. He’d taken a lot of agency away from Akira by betting his sword and taking the fight on short notice. Jay would’ve been pissed too if the roles were swapped.

But they weren’t.

Jay had made his choice to the best of his abilities. Akira’s uncertainty only stemmed from his lack of knowledge. Jay’s trip to the storm sage had been critical to winning the fight, and even more critical to accepting it. Even if his friends were unsure of him, Jay always had the confidence that he could win. That the sword was never truly at risk.

And if it was never truly at risk, was he really disrespecting Akira by betting it?

Jay discarded that thought.

There was no point debating over who was right or wrong. It was in the past now, and holding onto it would only hurt their relationship.

Hopefully, they’d have more faith in him next time.

Hopefully, he’d earned it.

Regardless of if he’d wronged Akira or not, Jay had something to fix that issue.

Jay opened his eyes. They wandered back to the room’s centre. Back to the sword that was soon-to-be Akira's, and the shield that was now his.