POV: Caspian
The battlefield was a fucking mess.
Seven left. Three on their side.
But—
What mattered now was finishing this fight.
He turned to Rafael.
The bastard had one capsule left.
Caspian didn't bother waiting.
He exploded forward.
Feral Charge.
In a blink, his fist smashed into Rafael's face.
A loud crack.
Rafael stumbled, dazed.
Caspian didn't stop.
Another hit.
A knee to the ribs.
Rafael gasped, trying to steady himself—
Caspian grabbed his collar and pulled him in close.
"Fuck Yourself"
Then, without hesitation—
An elbow to the chest.
The final capsule shattered.
[Rafael eliminated.]
Now 3 vs 3.
---
[POV: Kairos]
His hands were shaking.
He clenched them into fists, forcing himself to focus.
His mind wouldn't shut up.
The moment Calenthir eliminated he should have moved.
Should have acted.
Should have fought.
But his body froze.
The past wouldn't let go.
The memory of that day—the maid, the blood, the air magic spiraling out of control—
