"Get back here, you brat!"
Wind rushed through Ray's hair as he dove around corners, attempting to lose the man chasing him. He crouched behind an old worn down couch, breathing heavily as he leered around the side.
"Damn kid, should've just made this easy for me. Alistair just had to let his guard down. Making more work for the rest of us..." He turned aimlessly, looking for any hint of his prey.
Ray's heart beat almost as fast as his hands shook.
'I just... need to keep running. I need to be strong, and they'll save me!'
He pushed himself forwards, softly moving across the asphalt to another spot he'd consider safe.
A set of footsteps clattered behind him, startling Ray and making him scramble to the next pile of junk. He kept his eyes locked on the open space behind him, praying he'd never see that suit of armor again.
A deep voice whispered in his ear.
"Whatcha runnin from?"
Panic rushed through Ray as he shouted, and he jumped away from the pile. He turned to see that damn suit of armor, crouched down right behind him.
Another voice boomed from his left, the voice that was chasing him prior.
"The hell you doing in here, Abram?"
The other man laughed as he stood up. His armor made him hard to tell apart from the other man, but he was clearly much taller.
"You kiddin, Stump? You saw the way that girl preformed in the first match. Even if she gets her power back, she'll never land a shot!"
The man placed his hands on his hip. "I told you not to call me that."
Abram leaned forward towards Ray, lowering his voice.
"The real problem is you."
Instinctively, Ray began running aimlessly. Rounding corners and hurdling all sorts of strange furniture. His feet hurt as he only ran faster, his teal eyes watery with fear. He ran until he stumbled into the wall separating the sections.
He turned around, now facing the tall armored solider blocking his exit.
"You done runnin yet? Cause I'm tired of waiting."
Ray fell back against the wall. His vision blurred as tears streamed down his face.
"I... I-"
Abram crouched down in front of him.
"You what? Save your breath, I won't be fooled by your kind again."
Behind him, another armored man came into view, leisurely strolling up behind him.
Abram turned slightly, catching him in his gaze. He stood up to face him. "You wanna do the honors, Stump?"
He nodded, and walked passed Abram.
Simultaneously, both men turned and swung their knives at each other, narrowly grazing the rough black suits.
"You know why we called him "Stump"? Cause he's short and plump, like the stump of a tree. You're not Stump."
The man held his knife with his right hand.
"Glad that's sorted, now I don't have to wear this rancid mask."
Ray's eyes grew wide staring at the man now guarding him.
'S-Sachi!?'
Abram held his knife similarly. "You the one who took down Alistair?"
Sachi nodded. "Yeah, and Stump too."
The dim lighting made it hard to tell, but Sachi's knife seemed a bit more red than Abrams.
"Tch. Useless bastards. Makin' me do all the work as usual."
They lunged. Sachi couldn't rely on his foresight here, and he sure as hell didn't have enough skill with a knife to win a frontal assault.
Narrow dodges turned into cuts lining his sides, meanwhile he couldn't even scratch the man.
"Can't fight without your big sword, huh? Too bad you'll be dead before you get to see it again."
The cuts lining his body were shallow, but still excruciating.
'Just need to hold out a little bit longer...'
Ray held himself against the wall, watching as Sachi was continually brutalized by this man.
No matter what he did, his body wouldn't move.
'Sachi... I'm sorry...'
Cut after cut lined his body, the armor becoming less effective after each strike.
A small flash of light in the distance signaled Sachi to change his approach.
He dropped his own knife and charged Abram, grabbing his arm with both hands.
"Tch, desperation leads to stupid decisions. Without your powers, you can't beat me in a battle of strength!"
He swung his arm wildly, Sachi being forced to follow every movement, keeping his arms extended and away from the blade.
"Just like a damn dog. Let go!"
A patter of footsteps rushed towards them, followed by a small flash of steel.
A brunette girl drove her knife deep through the back of the tall soldier, grunting as he stumbled forward.
Sachi charged forward with his shoulder, ramming into Abram and knocking him over.
The armored soldier fell back onto the knife lodged in his back. He coughed, spitting blood onto the floor by his side.
He turned his visor towards Sachi.
"That blonde brat was right... You can't do shit by yourself..."
The tension in his neck that held his head high went limp as the fourth and final member of Team Alistair was eliminated.
Sachi collapsed to the ground, the exhaustion began to overtake him.
He gazed up to Lyra, who seemed to stare fearfully at the corpse beneath her.
"Where's Dion?"
She just kept staring. "I think he sat down somewhere..."
The dim lights flashed brighter, practically blinding Sachi.
"Who could've predicted this!? Team Sachi eliminated the entirety of Team Alistair before their powers had been restored! What a roaring upset!"
Vergo rounded the corner with Dion supported on his shoulder. Blood leaked down his arm as he clutched the knife still lodged in his flesh.
"Nice job, Team Sachi. C'mon, we'll get you patched up quickly. Your last game starts in an hour, so don't except much time to rest."
Dion winced. "Can you at least tell us what this last event is? I don't know if I can handle another crazy game."
Vergo gave a small chuckle. "You'll be glad then, this one isn't nearly as crazy."
"The last game is a one-on-one death match."