It all happened so fast.

With heroism that would be sung for hundreds of years, Ziph ripped into the crowd of monsters. Without so much as a second thought, he grabbed one by the collarbone and tossed it into the air like a doll. Soon three were on him, then four, grabbing him, trying to pull him down. Ziph punched into them one by one, knocking them down, and shoving them aside. He would reach Isshakhu.

Meanwhile, Siynh was also running across the Colosseum floor to his mother. But the boy wasn’t battle-worn like Ziph. He lacked the experience of his stepfather, so he didn’t see when one of the downed monsters, left in Ziph’s wake, reached out its hand and snatched Siynh’s ankle.

The boy was focused entirely on his mother, and when his chin smashed into the ground, he didn’t even know what hit him. Soon there were three creatures on him. They ripped his arms out and crushed his head. They trampled his body, laughing.

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Millagua, too, was caught up in the fight; when he saw his boy die, he let out a horrible wail that vibrated deep inside the heart of every one of the gods. That was how Isshakhu knew her son was dead.

As Millagua cried, energy beams sprang out of the Tripunctum Helm, which I had enchanted for him. These beams streaked across the sky, where they rent the very fabric of the air.

Gashes opened, and more monsters came tumbling out. They fell from the sky to the ground, landing with puffs and plumes of dirt. One by one, they stood up, their bones crushed, and smiled, rearing back menacingly.

“Take it off!” I yelled, but Millagua was beset with grief, and could not hear.

Bagua, meanwhile, looked serenely on. The chaos of it all seemed to set his gleaming black eyes at peace.