The room was silent but for the soft hush of the wind that whipped through a slight crack in the window. Atenyos sat across from Kantara, his head slanted as he listened. Kantara, for the first time since Atenyos had joined the team, seemed uncertain-his habitual unshakeable confidence replaced with a tinge of guilt.

"Atenyos, I want to apologize," Kantara began, his voice even but sweetened by a rare humbleness. "I tried to argue against your match. You're in my team, under my command, and I should have fought harder for you. But." He stopped, his piercing gaze locked with Atenyos. "The emperors see something in you, something even I do not fully grasp. They want to push you, test you, and after that, they'll push you even further."

Atenyos leaned back in his chair, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He could see the battle that was going on inside Kantara.

"Kantara." Atenyos said, his voice low and filled with a quiet confidence. "I appreciate this, but you really don't have to concern yourself about me. I'm sure you've noticed-I haven't so much as begun to test myself. What you have seen so far? That's just control. I have so much more to unleash." His smirk grew, though it wasn't arrogance, merely a quiet assurance.

Kantara nodded slowly to Atenyos's words.

"In my whole life, I have been an outcast," Atenyos went on, his voice deepening to a more contemplative note. His fingers traced the dark, jagged lightning-like marks on his forearms. "With these marks, I was accursed before I could begin. Black lightning courses through my body, and on the day I was born, my father died and Enyos, the greatest emperor who ever lived, gone. To everyone, I was nothing but a bad omen, an accursed child born into misery. But here." Atenyos's gaze softened as it met Kantara's eyes. "For the first time, I feel welcome. No, I am welcomed. You gave me a roof, a team to fight for, and you've always made sure I was treated like a person. For that, I thank you, Kantara. You have my respect and my loyalty."

Atenyos's voice hardened again, though this time not in anger, but determination. "As for the match? Don't worry. I'll win."

Kantara was taken aback. He had never known this side of Atenyos, the struggles that shaped him. This revelation just dumbfounded him. He scuffed Atenyos's hair, rare show of affection.

"Sleep," Kantara growled, his voice husky with warmth. "Rest up. Tomorrow will be a day worth watching."

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The following day,

The training grounds teemed with life once again as the teams came together. The air was thick with expectation. Kantara moved to the forefront to declare the second match.

"Cassian versus Darius," he called out, the sound of his voice carrying across the field.

Cassian strode into the center, his steps confident and afire. His golden hair gleamed under the sunlight, with sharp emerald eyes utterly focused on Darius. Although being a mountain in his own respect, Cassin was the shorter one of the two more stocky, his physique thick with the promise of explosive power.

Darius strode in calmly, calculatingly. His dark skin gleamed with a light shine of sweat, his lean, athletic physique showcasing speed and strength. His black hair was tied back, and his piercing amber eyes studied Cassian with unyielding intensity.

The fight opened with a loud crash. Cassian was a firestorm, punching and kicking with raw, unbridled power. Darius was water-flowing, evasive, and exact. He dodged most of Cassian's strikes with less than little effort, countering with sharp, calculated blows that bruised Cassian's arms and torso, with a high output than Cassian, Darius calculated his attacks as to not break the rules.

The battle raged on, the two fighters exchanging blow after blow. Cassian's relentless energy seemed endless, but Darius's endurance was just as impressive. Blood dripped from both of them, staining the ground beneath their feet.

Darius's intimidation was subtle, a quiet overwhelming presence that made his opponent hesitate. Cassian's was loud and fiery, his every movement a challenge to the universe itself.

It wasn't until Cassian, bloody and battered, refused to back down that the fight reached its crescendo. He feinted left and then dove low, striking Darius's leg with a well-measured kick. The result made Darius stumble to fall to one knee. Cassian didn't hesitate; he charged, driving his elbow with enough strength against Darius's chin to make him go sprawling onto his back.

Kantara's hand jerked, ready to call the fight, but Cassian moved too quickly for him.

"Enough!" Kantara's voice thundered as he stepped between them to stop the match.

Cassian was standing tall, bloodied but grinning, and raised a fist in victory. But the celebration was cut short when Lutens stepped forward, his face unreadable.

"Darius… is the winner," Lutens said.

The field fell silent. Even Kantara blinked in surprise.

"What?" Cassian's voice cut, disbelief hard on his face. "That's bullshit!"

Lutens motioned to Darius, who was pulled to his feet. "His leg is broken-a blow sufficient to be called fatal in a true fight. The rules clearly state that any injury likely to kill a fighter in a real fight wins them the match."

Cassian's hands curled to fists. "That's-!

"You fought well," said Lutens, sharply yet amicable. "Nothing to shame from, Cassian. Superb display of skill, will."

Cassian said nothing. His mouth thinned to a thin-lipped twist; then he turned and strode away, his mutter unintelligible.

Those fighters that remained gave a token acknowledgment to the fallen and Cassian alike. The moment fell silent and awkwardly poised. Atenyos merely watched from his place of removed observation, his mind busily at work.

"If my match doesn't have rules, does that mean.I can break them?"

The thought was to linger as Atenyos stared into the battlefield, already envisioning what was to come.

After a light meal, some satisfied and others not so much, the teams went back to their chambers.

Meanwhile, Kantara sits in front of Iruims and Lutens, after requesting both of their presence.