At the tournament everyone gathered together, eventually Hermes saw him. His face was cloaked in a red scarf like a Bedouin his eyes poking through his mask. But Hermes knew all too well, "I know its you, Coyote Wolf. I knew you'd show up." The figure turned around and walked off in a huff, Lupus felt like the person was familiar but simply turned toward Hermes, "You know that guy?" Hermes laughed: "In a manner of speaking, yes." Talus laughed, "Whoever, he is, me and Hermes can take him." A young woman began to speak behind them, "Oh Talus, you surprised to see men?" It was a girl with blonde hair in pink tails in a pink dress. Talus looked slightly annoyed: "Do I know you?" The girl flew into a rage, "YOU KNOW YOU REALLY CAN BE A REAL JERK!!" And she stormed off. Demi ran over to Talus, "Do you know that is?! Who is that skank?!" Talus got nervous, "You know as much as me, I have no idea." Later in the day they all had passed the primilanaries and soon the tournament would begin. The finalists were Hermes, Lupus, a young boy named Zing, Talus, Zaiyal, Nelly, a figure named X, two figures named Anonymous a girl with a blonde hair and the mysterious figure with the red mask the Coyote Wolf, and the Imam. The announcer announced all the fighters in the first part of the tournament. Up first
[First Round]: Talus vs. Anonymous (the blonde girl),
[Second Round]: Hermes vs. Zing,
[Third Round]: Nelly vs. Anonymous (the Coyote Wolf),
[Fourth Round]: Lupus vs. X,
[The Fifth Round] Zaiyal vs.the Imam.
The blonde girl looked pissed. The First Matches were about to begin the first was Talus and the girl. The First Match: Talus vs. Anonymous (Pinky) The arena was packed. The crowd roared as the announcer's voice boomed through the coliseum, echoing off the high walls and fluttering the banners that hung above. Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen! Our first match! On one side—the daring, reckless, and always unpredictable… Talus! And facing him—an Anonymous warrior, but some say she's as fierce as she is mysterious! Give it up for… Anonymous!"
Talus strode into the ring, stretching his arms behind his head with a cocky grin. He was relaxed, oblivious to the tension. Across from him, Pinky—alias Anonymous—stepped into the ring. Her fists were clenched, her face red with fury. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she stomped forward, the pink aura of her anger almost visible. Pinky (growling under her breath): "He really doesn't remember me… after all this time…" Talus tilted his head, puzzled. Talus: "Hey, uh… have we met at a party or something?" Pinky's eye twitched. The crowd laughed at his cluelessness, thinking it was part of the show. Pinky shouted: "You dense jerk! Prepare to get what's coming to you!" The bell rang—DING!
Pinky shot forward like a bolt of lightning. She swung a fast kick at Talus' head, but he ducked instinctively, grinning. Talus: "Wow, you're fast!" Pinky spun midair, her dress flowing like a petal in a storm, and came down with a chop. Talus leapt back, narrowly avoiding it, the impact of her blow cracking the tile beneath. The crowd gasped. Hermes (watching from the sidelines): "Talus better take this seriously…" Lupus: "Who is that girl? She's got some skill. I wouldn't mind making her a commisar in my empire. Hehehe."
Talus charged, trying to tag her lightly on the shoulder as if still playing around. But Pinky dodged smoothly, her foot sweeping his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a thud, blinking at the sky. Talus thought: "Whoa. Okay… she's not messing around." Pinky stood over him, glaring. Pinky: "Had enough?! Or are you going to remember who I am?!" Talus laughed and said snidely: Talus (sheepish): "Why should I care?" Pinky's eye twitched as she gritted her teeth and shook with incredible anger, eventually it bubbled to the surface. Pinky let out a primal yell and launched a flurry of punches and kicks. Talus was forced to block, his playful smirk fading as he realized he was really in a fight. Their clash became a blur of motion—Pinky's pink aura flickering with each strike, Talus's reflexes pushed to their limit. The crowd was on the edge of their seats.
Pinky (as they traded blows): "I waited all these years for this! I dreamed of seeing you again! And you can't even remember my name?! Heck, you don't even care." Talus (deflecting a kick): "This really feels personal… Is it that serious?!" Pinky: "IT IS!!" She feinted left, then slammed her palm into his chest, sending him skidding back to the edge of the ring. Talus coughed, looking up at her, eyes wide in admiration. Talus: "Okay. I don't know who you are… but you're amazing." Pinky froze mid-charge, blushing furiously. The crowd erupted with cheers, mistaking his words for a dramatic confession. Pinky (stammering): "Y-you idiot! Don't say that now!!" Talus grinned, standing and dusting himself off. Talus: "Guess I better stop playing around."
The two fighters circled each other, their energy crackling in the air. Pinky's pink aura pulsed with determination and frustration. Talus's blue glow shimmered like a calm sea, his usual grin back on his face as he got serious—kind of. Announcer (excited): "What a match, folks! Neither fighter's giving an inch! Who will come out on top?!" Just as Pinky launched another high-speed kick—Talus ran up behind her and kicked her from the ring ending the match. The bell rang. The announcer raised his arms. Announcer: "It's over. Talus wins. Talus will continue to the next round of the tournament." The crowd cheered wildly, but Pinky skidded to a stop, panting, fists still clenched. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. Pinky (thinking): I lost?! Just like that?! After all this…? Talus relaxed, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, his grin wide. Talus: "Wow, you're really good. That was fun!" But before he could say more, Pinky let out a roar of frustration and charged at him again, ignoring the referee who tried to intervene. Referee: "Wait—the match is over!!" Pinky: "I don't care! I'm not done with you, Talus!!" She threw a punch at him—but in a flash, Talus vanished from sight. The crowd gasped. Pinky (looking around, fuming): "Where'd you go?! Don't run away now!" Suddenly—warmth. Talus was behind her, arms wrapped around her in a loose but genuine hug. His voice was soft near her ear. Talus: "Of course I remember you, Pinky. We're married after all."
Pinky froze. Her face went redder than her dress, her heart pounding louder than the crowd's cheers. Pinky (in shock): "W-what are you doing, you idiot?!" The audience burst into laughter and applause, thinking it was all part of the show. Even Hermes smirked, shaking his head. Hermes (to Lupus): "Did you have any idea Talus had a wife?" Lupus looked shocked: "Why are you asking me, you knew him before I did?" Hermes rebutted: "You trained with him over a year though."
Pinky struggled weakly, but the fight had gone out of her. Slowly, she lowered her fists. Pinky (muttering): "You're the worst…" Talus just grinned, still clueless but happy. Talus: "Guess that means I won, huh?" Talus grinned: "If you want to continue where we left off, I'd be happy to continue to be a husband and wife." Pinky began to cry and turned around and began to cry with happiness. "Well let's give the reunited lovebirds a round of applause. The next round was Hermes versus a little shy young boy named Zing. As Pinky held on tightly to Talus, Demi just seemed sad she would confront them later.
Meanwhile Zing was about to face off against Hermes. The arena fell silent for a moment. Zing lay on the ground, gasping, the sting of defeat filling his chest. Hermes stood over him, her shadow long in the afternoon sun. The crowd expected her to offer a hand, or perhaps a kind word. But something in her eyes changed—dark, cold, unrecognizable. Hermes mocked him: "So this is the best your village has to offer? Pathetic." Zing (weakly):
"Please…stop…?" Hermes stepped closer, the smirk on her face no longer the friendly smile of a mentor—but the sneer of a predator. Hermes: "You talk about protecting people? I wonder… what would you do if I went to your village? To that temple you left behind? I could burn it to the ground. Kill every last one of those cowards you abandoned."
The crowd gasped. Lupus and Talus stood frozen. Even Hermes' closest allies stared at her in disbelief. Lupus (shouting):
"Hermes, what the hell are you saying?!" Lupus paused for a second: "Wait a minute I've done far worse than what Hermes is doing right now in the past. So… so… why does this bother me so much?" But Hermes didn't look at them. Her gaze stayed locked on Zing, who stared up at her in horror, his body shaking—not from pain, but from fear.
Hermes (taunted him darkly):
"I could start with your family. I bet they still pray for your safe return. I bet there still Buddhist and have idols to their holy Amitahba. I'm sure even though you forsook the faith they don't care and they still love you. How precious. Maybe I'll grant them that mercy sending them to the after life like everyone else you know and love—after I'm done with everyone else." Zing:
"Please… stop…" Without warning, Hermes' fist slammed into Zing's gut, lifting him off the ground. Before he could fall, she grabbed him by the collar and drove her knee into his face, sending him crashing across the arena floor like a ragdoll. The audience erupted in horrified cries. Blood stained the tiles where Zing lay crumpled. But Hermes wasn't finished. She stalked toward him, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every step.
Hermes (snarling): "No one leaves their weakness behind. Not you. Not them. And not me." Zing's friends, at least those who came, leapt to their feet in the stands, shouting for Hermes to stop. Some fighters vaulted the railings, trying to rush the stage—but the tournament officials held them back, frozen by fear of Hermes' fury. Hermes raised her fist, energy crackling around it like a storm about to break. Zing coughed, blood on his lips, eyes wide as saucers. Hermes: "This is what strength looks like, boy." She grabbed him and threw him in the air and began to power up a special attack her feet planted to the ground. "This world has no place for a weak warrior, and know this as soon as I fire this attack at you, I could care less about this tournament, AS SOON AS THIS BOLT OF ENERGY STRIKES YOU I'M GOING TO ATTACK YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS IN THE STANDS NEXT!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" This angered Zing who leaped down and with a burst of new found energy and Qadar (Aura) began to fight Hermes on equal footing. Forcing Hermes back. Lupus looked over at Ungar and Imam al-Tayyib were completely unfazed by everything. "Do they know something I don't?"
Just as Hermes' fist was about to crash down— Zing, in a final act of desperation, thrust up his own fist with a cry, his energy flaring in a brilliant burst of golden ki. The shockwave from their clashing strikes rippled through the arena, shaking the ground and silencing the crowd. Hermes' fist stopped inches from his face. A grin—genuine and warm—spread across her face. She caught his trembling fist in her hand, holding it gently but firmly. Hermes (softly now, the venom gone):
"There it is." Zing blinked, breath ragged, confused. His ki still glowed faintly around him. His fear had burned away, replaced by raw, determined will. Zing:
"Wh…what…?" Hermes stepped back, releasing his hand, and lowered her fists. Her voice echoed with calm pride. Hermes:
"I didn't mean a word of it, Zing. Your village… your temple… your family… I would never harm them. I said those things to make you stop holding back. To force you to show me your true spirit. And you did." The crowd, stunned, slowly began to murmur, realizing what had happened. Lupus let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, shaking his head with a smirk. Talus laughed in relief.
Hermes (placing a hand on Zing's shoulder):
"You have the heart of a warrior. But you'll never protect anyone by fighting with fear. Let your strength flow from your courage, not your terror of losing." Zing's eyes widened, and tears welled up—but this time from overwhelming emotion, not pain. He dropped to his knees, bowing deeply. Zing: "Thank you, Hermes… I-I understand now…" Hermes helped him back to his feet, raising his arm to the crowd. The arena erupted in cheers—this time in admiration, not horror. Hermes (grinning): "Next time, no tricks. Just you and me, at your full power. Deal?" Zing (smiling through tears):
"Deal!" But Zing stopped for a moment, "It's just so hard to draw out any real power on a whim whether I have it or not, whether or not I do not actually seems irrelevant because I'm always so afraid." Hermes simply replied coldly: "If it was easy why would you do it?" Zing looked up in surprise. "If it was easy, why would you even try? And if it were easy where would the growth come from?... If it we're easy why would you ever attempt to rise above meterocity to become something greater then you were before?" Lupus stood in shock, this was Hermes talking he thought, it sounded like something that would come out of his mouth. "Life doesn't hand out greatness. Life doesn't give you greatness with easy, you always, always have to fight for it. When the pain hits and when your struggle becomes unbearable that is when you unleash your full strength. You have to always dig deeper, no one can stop you, in my mind God alone is the one who can stop me, and if you don't believe in any god. Then what the hell could possibly get in your way, answer me that?!" Zing was shocked, and then he bowed "I concede." Hermes was about to reprimand him but Zing said, "I just met you but I can't in good conscience fight a warrior like you in a tournament with rules and regulations I need to test my full strength with you without formal rules so we can push each other's limits, I'll introduce my friends to you after the tournament is over and then… we can fight for real." Hermes smiled, "I'd like that." The announcer shouted: "WELL THERE YOU HAVE IT, the winner is HERMES!"
The crowd was still reeling from the intense match between Hermes and Zing, but before they could fully catch their breath, the announcer's voice boomed across the arena: Announcer: "And now, our next bout! On one side—Nelly, the fierce and agile warrior, known for her swift kicks and sharp mind! And on the other… a newcomer cloaked in mystery: the enigmatic fighter known only as Anonymous!" The audience murmured nervously as the red-robed figure stepped into the ring, his presence heavy and foreboding. His eyes glowed faintly from within the shadows of his hood, and his stance radiated dangerous calm. Nelly took her position, focused, but even she could feel the oppressive aura coming from this opponent.
Hermes, still at the edge of the ring, called out urgently: "Nelly! Be careful—this one's no ordinary fighter. He's extremely dangerous. Don't drop your guard for a second!" Nelly nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. She adjusted her stance, raising one leg high in her signature ready pose. Anonymous' voice cut through the tension, low and dripping with disdain: "So this is what they sent to face me? A little nothing who thinks kicks will save her? This'll be over in a blink. Hehehe." The crowd booed at the insult, but Nelly didn't flinch. She narrowed her gaze, replying calmly: "We'll see who the nothing is." Anonymous laughed: "You really think you're tough?"
Announcer:
"Fighters ready…? BEGIN!" The match exploded into action. Nelly dashed forward, launching a precise, powerful kick aimed at Anonymous' head. But with shocking speed, Anonymous sidestepped, his robes flowing like blood in the wind. He countered with a palm strike that Nelly barely blocked, the force of it sending a tremor up her arm. Anonymous mocked:
"Faster than I expected. But still not enough."
Nelly gritted her teeth, leaping back to gain distance. She weaved in a flurry of kicks, testing his defenses—but every strike was deflected with terrifying ease. From the stands, Lupus clenched his fists.
"There's something familiar about that style… but I can't place it…" Talus (uneasy): "Who is this guy?" Hermes' eyes narrowed, heart pounding.
"Coyote Wolf… it's him. I know it's him under that hood…" Back in the ring, Anonymous struck hard, his blows now coming faster, pushing Nelly back with each clash. Yet Nelly refused to yield—each time she staggered, she came back with another counter, her spirit blazing stronger with every attack. Anonymous (snarling): "Why won't you stay down, you insect?!" Nelly (panting, fierce): "Because I'm not afraid of you."
Their auras flared—Nelly's like a silver flame, Anonymous' like a black storm—as the battle raged, the crowd watching in breathless silence, knowing they were witnessing a fight that would be remembered forever. Anonymous was hit in the face by Nelly and flew backwards but floated midair wiping his face and laughing. "You're not as much as a pathetic welp as I originally believed. I apologize, I might be in for a good time." He flew down to intimidate her but landed calmly before her. They began to stare each other down. After the announcer made his little announcement, they began to fly towards each other, Anonymous seemed slightly annoyed and then he caught his composure. "I must admit you've surprised me, you're strong, that much is clear. Your power is powerful but limited, you don't have access to states beyond this, that much is very clear. Forgive me, now I can show you a little bit… of the unseen."
The air trembled as Nelly and Anonymous rocketed toward each other, energy crackling between them. At the last instant, Nelly twisted mid-flight, striking out with a sharp kick aimed at Anonymous' side. He blocked it—but the force sent him sliding back, his boots carving lines into the stone arena floor. Anonymous (voice low, half-laughing):
"Heh… you're not as weak as I thought. A little nothing with bite. I'll admit, I'm impressed. But this… this is your peak, isn't it? You don't even know how to break beyond. You've got no greater state, no hidden power left, do you?" Nelly landed lightly on her feet, panting, but her eyes never wavered. She knew she was near her limit—her legs burned, her breath came ragged—but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing fear. Anonymous raised one hand, and for the first time his energy visibly swirled—dark, thick like a storm cloud, oppressive. His aura seemed to twist the very air around him.
"Forgive me, little nothing. Now… I'll show you just a glimpse of what real power looks like. A taste of the unseen." He lunged, faster than before—so fast Nelly barely saw him move. His fist came at her like a hammer, but at the last second, Nelly ducked low, slid beneath his strike, and leapt to her feet. She planted herself, fists clenched, chest heaving. Nelly (calm but resolute):
"No. I've given it everything I have… and I see now… it's not enough. Not against you. But I'm proud of how far I've come." The crowd fell silent. Anonymous froze mid-motion, confused by her words.
Nelly (bowing deeply):
"I concede. This match is yours. But don't think for a second you've won. You're going to find out that beating any of us will be far harder than you imagined." Anonymous lowered his fist slowly, his grin faltering as he gazed at Nelly. For the first time, doubt flickered in his eyes beneath the hood. He hadn't expected this—not grace, not wisdom, not defiance wrapped in humility. Anonymous (thinking):
"This… this will not be as easy as I thought. These fighters… they're different. Stronger in spirit than I planned for…" From the sidelines, Hermes allowed herself a small smile of pride. Lupus exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. Talus laughed softly, shaking his head. Announcer (booming): "Nelly has withdrawn! The victory goes to Anonymous! But what a display of courage and strength from our brave fighter!" Anonymous stared at Nelly a moment longer, and then for a moment turned toward Hermes, then turned away, his dark aura flickering as he composed himself. But inside, he knew: the road ahead would not be simple. These so-called heroes had the will to challenge even the unseen depths of his power. The next round was about to begin it was Lupus vs. the mysterious X. Lupus's wife, his new child and his two older ones cheered from the sidelines, Lupus laughed: "I guess I can't disappoint." He stepped into the ring and on the other side was the mysterious figure, a girl with pink pigtails who seemed like she was ready to fight, behind a strange demonic mask. Lupus smirked: "I have no idea who you are, but if you had any idea who I was you'd turn and run." The figure responded with a gold robotic voice: "I know exactly who you are Lupus IV Dragmire of the Archon Clan of Izador." Lupus suddenly began to shake, that was information only a select few Izadoran noblemen were aware of there's no way this woman whoever she was could no any of that. Lupus became angry: "Who are you, speak up?!"
The arena was so quiet now, the only sound was the soft whistling of the wind between the pillars. Dust swirled around Lupus and X as they stood at a tense standoff. Lupus clenched his fists so hard his gauntlets creaked. His breath came in short, ragged bursts, his eyes burning into that eerie red mask. Lupus (growling, desperate to understand): "Enough riddles! Enough games! Who are you?! Tell me why you know my name… why you're here!" X seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat longer. Her hands lowered slowly from the edge of the mask, as if she might finally reveal herself. The robotic voice came again — but this time, softer, almost human beneath the distortion:
X: "You misunderstand, Lupus Dragmire of Izador. I am not here to punish you. I do not care about your clan's sins… or your secrets. I have no interest in your past." Lupus blinked, stunned.
"What…? Then why—why come at me like this? Why expose my name in front of everyone?!" X (voice steady now):
"I needed your attention. I needed their attention." She flicked her gaze — the only hint of her true face visible through those golden eyeholes — toward the two figures beyond the ring: Anonymous, standing cloaked in red with his aura simmering like coals, and Imam al-Tayyib, serene and inscrutable in his blue robes.
X: "My true battle lies ahead. The one I seek to test is the Imam. And that dark one in red… I came to see what he is. Your secret is safe. I will not reveal your true name to this crowd." The audience, hanging on every word, murmured in confusion. Lupus (still tense, voice low):
"Then who are you? Why won't you tell me your name?!" X tilted her head again — the faintest shimmer of amusement, or perhaps regret, behind the mask. X (final words before the strike): "Ask me again… after you can stand to face me." And in that instant — before Lupus could react — she moved. A single, fluid, perfect kick. Her leg swept out with a speed and force that stunned the eye, striking Lupus square in the chestplate. Lupus's breath caught in his throat — he felt the world tilt. The kick sent him flying backwards, his massive form hurtling toward the edge of the ring. He crashed down hard, skidding across the stone floor — and out of bounds.
The crowd gasped as the dust settled. Announcer (booming):
"Lupus is OUT! The winner… X!" Lupus lay there for a moment, staring at the sky, the echo of that final strike still ringing in his bones. He pushed himself up, dazed but grinning despite himself. Lupus (panting, shaking his head): "Heh… well played… whoever you are…" X stood silent at the center of the arena, the wind tugging at her cloak, her mask unreadable. She bowed — not mockingly, but with the respect due a worthy foe. Coyote Wolf (watching, eyes wide, voice low):
"She beat him… like it was nothing. Who IS this girl?"
Hermes, Talus, and the others watched with a mix of awe and tension, knowing this tournament had just taken a dramatic turn. X (thinking, gaze fixed on the Imam and Anonymous): "Soon. The true test begins." From the top of a building nearby the villianous Kakia looked on and laughed: "I'd know that attack style anywhere, well played bitch." The following match would be against two good friends and allies Imam al-Tayyid and the alien warrior raised on Helios outside his native world, Zaiyal. The two we're ready to face off with each other.
Announcer (voice echoing like thunder across the sacred arena):
"Up next a figure that goes by "the Saint," mysterious and Zaiyal!" The crowd fell silent as Zaiyal strode forward, fists clenched, resolve burning in his eyes. Before him stood the Saint, the folds of his deep azure robe stirring gently in a breeze that seemed summoned by his very presence. His turban glowed faintly beneath the high sun, and symbols of light flickered in the air around him — as if the unseen realms whispered blessings upon him. Zaiyal (bowing low, voice steady):
"Great saint, with all do respect, I must fight you here and now." Imam al-Tayyib gently smiled:
"Then come, O Zaiyal. Let your spirit blaze — and I shall meet it as I must." The gong rang.
Zaiyal lunged, faster than before — fists like meteors, feet striking the stone with explosive force. His strikes carved shockwaves into the air, each blow aimed not in anger, but in pure, burning will to test himself. Al-Tayyib weaved among them like a breeze between mountain crags, his form flickering like a mirage, his robes leaving no sound upon the stone. But Zaiyal pressed on. Again and again. His attacks grew sharper, his speed unmatched — his determination like a blade honed by fire. And with each pass, the Imam's evasion grew narrower. Zaiyal's gauntlet grazed the edge of the Imam's sleeve; his heel sent sparks skittering off the ancient floor where al-Tayyib had stood a heartbeat earlier.
The crowd gasped at Zaiyal's tenacity. Even Anonymous, cloaked in his crimson aura, narrowed his eyes. Zaiyal (gritting his teeth):
"You will fight me in earnest, Master! I will not let this be a mere dance!" The Saint paused, meeting Zaiyal's gaze. The warmth in his eyes faded—not into coldness, but into something vast, something that spoke of oceans deeper than thought and skies wider than hope. The Holy Saint (soft, yet like thunder beneath the world):
"As you wish, O seeker."
He raised both hands. The air itself bent — symbols of radiant geometry spiraled around him, stars, crescents, and hidden glyphs forming a dome of light. The ground trembled as if it recognized its true sovereign. A staff of pure brilliance formed in his grasp, its shape ever-shifting — rod, blade, branch, serpent, flame. With one sweep, he struck the earth. Waves of light rippled outward, lifting Zaiyal from his stance, suspending him in shimmering stillness as if time itself had been hushed.
Zaiyal struggled, but not in fear — in awe.
Al-Tayyib stepped forward, touching Zaiyal's brow with two fingers. In that instant, visions cascaded into the Heliosian's mind:
— The endless chain of Imams, keepers of divine wisdom.
— The stars singing in hidden tongues.
— The unity of all creation, the oneness beneath the many forms.
The light faded. The Imam lowered his hand.
Zaiyal fell to one knee, head bowed, breath ragged — but his eyes alight, as if seeing the world anew. Zaiyal (whispering):
"…Thank you, my Imam. I understand now." Imam al-Tayyib (offering his hand): "Rise, Zaiyal. Your spirit honors us all. This match ends — but your true journey begins." The crowd stood in silent reverence as the two clasped hands. No victor, no vanquished — only truth revealed in combat's mirror. Zaiyal said: "I conceded."
Announcer (voice hushed with wonder):
"The winner… "the Saint". Give it up for this mysterious blue robed warrior!" The both left the stage. "Now it's time for the semifinals folks."
Semi-Finals:
ROUND 1: The Imam vs. X.
ROUND 2: Hermes vs. Talus.
ROUND 3: Anonymous (the Coyote Wolf) vs. the winner of First Round.
The Announcer: "That's right folks, whoever wins the first round we'll have the chance to beat Anonymous who will be in the bleachers." The Coyote Wolf laughed: "I hope it's Hermes, but I wouldn't mind fighting that pink haired wench either." Meanwhile, in a palace far away on the edge of a waterfall. A man typed on his computer and a hologram appeared it was a picture of Talus. "We finally caught the traitor, he's at the Helios Martial Arts Tournament right now, on Pampu Island, if we head out there not, we can surprise him." A girl with aqua marine hair and a good figure smirked, "You think he'll be upset?" The man laughed: "He should be happy, those other people he betrayed the Demon Clan, one of our enemies as well, they want his blood, we're far more merciful to traitors. But still the bastard needs to serve his time, after what he did to us." The girl laughed, "We'll head out now, for the glory of our Empire!" Back on the Tournament grounds the Imam and X starred each other down.
The arena fell into a hush so deep that even the sea breeze dared not stir. X stood still as a statue, the crimson mask glaring beneath the twin suns. The Imam, robed in sapphire folds, radiated a serene light, the floating symbols from before now gathered like stars at his shoulders.X (voice low, mechanical, but tinged with human resolve):
"This is what I came for. The true test. Show me if the tales of your kind are more than myth." Imam al-Tayyib (calm, voice like a river over stone):
"I show nothing, masked one. I invite. Let your spirit speak, and I shall answer."
X moved first. No preamble, no feint — just pure speed, a blur of pink hair and scarlet mask. Her fists were like thunderclaps, her legs like twin scythes of the storm. She struck at the Imam's chest, throat, ribs, sweeping kicks that could shatter stone. But the Imam —
He flowed. Every strike met empty air, or so it seemed. His hands moved with minimal grace, deflecting only what needed deflection. A twist of his palm, a turn of his heel, and X's attacks faltered against a wall that wasn't there. The crowd watched breathless as X unleashed a fury of combinations — a cyclone of blows — but could not touch him.
Dust swirled around them like a veil. X (gritting teeth beneath the mask):
"Stop dodging! Fight me!"
And then — X changed.
Her mask glowed, the eyes of the oni design burning gold. Her aura ignited — pink flame, coiled like a serpent of wrath. The ground cracked beneath her as she launched again, this time weaving techniques unseen before — a blur of martial arts from lost worlds, strikes that bent the air like heat mirage, a kick that left a sonic boom in its wake.
The Imam, at last, responded.
He raised a single hand.
A sigil — a star, a crescent, a hidden name — blossomed from his palm. The light met X's attack like dawn meeting night. BOOM. The force rippled outward, halting X mid-charge. She skidded back, breath ragged, eyes wide behind her mask. X (thinking):
"That light… it's not just power. It's will. Clarity." Al-Tayyib stepped forward. His voice now echoed, as if the pillars, the sky itself, carried his words: "You seek strength. But what you truly seek is meaning through strength." He touched the ground. Geometry of light unfolded beneath their feet — a vast, radiant circle inscribed with ancient script, as if the arena had become a page of a divine book. X tried again — charging, flying through the air with a knee strike aimed at his heart. But this time, as she neared, she saw it — the Imam's eyes.
Limitless sky. Boundless sea. Compassion deeper than fear. He caught her knee in his palm. Gently. Firmly. And in that instant —
She saw herself, unmasked. A child once lost. A warrior once broken. A seeker wandering countless worlds for a purpose beyond battle.
She saw the chain of imams stretching across time. Stars guiding the lost. The balance of might and mercy. The mask cracked. Just a little. A line down the center. X fell to her knees, trembling. The flames around her died to embers. Then — the Imam did the unthinkable. He stepped back. Lowered his hand. And raised his voice just enough for all to hear:
"I concede." The crowd froze. Even the wind seemed to stop. X stood, stunned. "What…? No. No — why? I haven't bested you. I know I haven't. Why would you—?" But the Imam said nothing more.
His gaze was endless, unreadable, kind — and beyond reach. He bowed slightly, turned, and walked from the arena. His blue robes trailed like waves behind him.
X's fists clenched at her sides. Her breath came ragged.
She stared after him, utterly bewildered. X (thinking, reeling inside):
"What game is this? What lesson? What is the meaning?! Why… why would he give me victory unearned?!" The announcer finished: "The winner is… X!" The next round would continue Talus vs. Hermes two old friends, they were actually trained by the Imam in the two weeks leading to the tournament. Announcer (voice booming across the arena):
"Here it is, folks! A match years in the making — two comrades, two titans, trained under the same master, now forced to battle in the semifinals! Give it up for HERMES and TALUS!"
The crowd erupted. Even the waves crashing on the shores of Pampu Island seemed to cheer.
Hermes stepped forward, his posture relaxed but eyes sharp, golden gauntlets gleaming in the sun.
Talus tightened the wrappings on his fists, his silver hair wild in the sea breeze, his grin half-playful, half-deadly serious.
Talus (grinning):
"I always knew it would come to this."
Hermes (smirking):
"Then stop talking and show me how much stronger you've gotten."
GONG!
Round 1: The Opening Clash
Both vanished in a blur. The shockwave of their initial charge rattled the arena's pillars. Fists met fists, kicks clashed with blocks, each strike faster than the last.
Hermes darted in low, aiming a sweeping leg kick — Talus leapt over it, bringing down an ax kick that cracked the tiles beneath Hermes as he rolled away.
They circled each other.
Talus:
"Not bad. You've gotten quicker."
Hermes:
"You haven't seen quick yet."
Hermes feinted left — Talus read it — but Hermes twisted mid-air, landing a spinning back kick that grazed Talus' cheek. The crowd gasped.
Round 2: The Sky Battle
Hermes leapt high, Talus chasing him into the air. They exchanged blows mid-flight — punch for punch, kick for kick — a dance in the heavens.
Talus launched a double palm blast, the force sending Hermes spiraling toward the earth — but Hermes flipped, landing lightly.
Talus descended, fists glowing.
Round 3: Strategy Unfolds
The pace slowed. Each knew the other's style too well.
Hermes started baiting — short, quick jabs to test Talus' guard.
Talus began his infamous footwork — sliding steps that left faint afterimages.
Then Talus made his move:
A sudden charge, a feint high, a knee low — Hermes caught it. But that was the plan. Talus' other fist slammed into Hermes' ribs. Hermes staggered.
Hermes grinned through the pain.
"Good one."
But then Hermes countered — grabbing Talus' wrist, flipping him overhead, slamming him down. Dust billowed.
Talus kicked up from the ground, fists blazing. The air boomed with the shock of their strikes.
Hermes roared, her aura exploding outward in a golden blaze that lit the arena like a second sun. Tiles flew, the earth cracked beneath her boots.
Talus' own silver-blue energy flared, winds shrieking around him.
Hermes fired first — a spiral lance of golden ki that screamed across the arena. Talus flipped aside, returning fire with dozens of silver orbs, like a meteor storm.
Hermes weaved, but a stray orb exploded against her shoulder, spinning her mid-air.
Round 5: Sky and Sea in Ruin
Hermes gathered her ki, her hands burning bright.
"Solar Nova!"
A wave of pure fire burst forth, engulfing the arena in blinding light. Talus braced, digging in, but it pushed him back, his boots tearing grooves in the stone.
With a yell, Talus caught the edge of the blast — and hurled it back!
Hermes gasped, leaping high, watching her own attack smash into the sea in a titanic explosion, sending walls of water sky-high.
Round 6: Flash Step Fury
Talus closed in, fists and feet striking faster than the eye could see, leaving afterimages like ghosts. Hermes blocked, countered — but he slipped through her guard. A knee to her ribs. A chop to the neck. A punch that sent sparks flying.
But then Hermes disappeared — instant movement — reappearing behind him.
Hermes:
"Lightning Fang!"
Her golden-cloaked fist struck his back with a crack that echoed across the island. Talus crashed into the earth, leaving a massive crater.
Round 7: The Ultimate Exchange
Blood at his lip, Talus laughed.
"This is what I wanted. Let's end it right!"
Hermes wiped blood from her mouth, eyes burning.
"Fine. Let's see who stands last."
Talus formed a silver orb, the air bending around it.
Hermes gathered twin golden comets, her gauntlets crackling with raw power.
They unleashed — Talus' Final Starburst, Hermes' Twin Comet Crash. The attacks collided mid-air, the world turning white. The sky split. The sea rose. The arena vanished beneath a tidal wave of force. And then Hermes split her body into five Hermes' in an instant each one kicked Talus once until the final hit Talus straight out of the ring. The match was over. "THE MATCH IS OVER HERMES WINS! Get ready folks, in the next round the mysterious Anonymous will fight the equally mysterious X!"