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Diansu stood at the edge of the arena, his screen flickering slightly as he gazed out at the expanse of stone and sand where fates were decided. Sillvia and RAT were already there, like sentinels waiting to watch him face what felt like an inescapable end. His hands trembled as a thousand thoughts collided in his mind. Every possibility ran through his circuits, but no matter how he calculated, the conclusion was always the same: kill or be killed.
And he couldn’t afford to lose. Not here. Not now.
"Dante," he said, his voice softer than it should have been. The younger boy, barely fourteen, looked up at him. His Oceana shield was almost comically large against his gangly frame, and his Elysium armor gleamed in the harsh light of the arena—everything but the helmet, which he refused to wear. Diansu’s heart ached at the sight of him. A true Oceanan, through and through, and yet, too young to be here. Too young to understand the weight of everything.
“I want to tell you now,” Diansu continued, leaning down so their eyes were level, “I might not come out of this. Lux…” His screen flickered again as he glanced toward the arena where his estranged daughter waited. “If I fail, you need to get to Viceroy. Don’t let them trap you. Promise me.”
Dante’s lip quivered as he saluted with all the awkwardness of a fourteen-year-old boy trying to be brave. Diansu smiled, reaching out to rest a hand on his cheek. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. He gave Dante’s cheek a light pat before straightening, his hands shaking as he turned toward the arena.
Moriya met him at the entrance, offering him a drink. He took it without a word, the liquid sloshing faintly in the flask as he downed it in one go.
The gates creaked open, and there she was. Lux. His daughter. Once, she had been his pride and joy, the clever girl who could take apart a mechanism faster than anyone else on the server. Now, she stood across from him, her ink-streaked form a painful reminder of everything he had lost. She was a weapon now, bound to Mouthpiece and his accursed inkblots, and she had chosen that path herself. Diansu’s heart twisted, the edges sharp with betrayal and love.
She stared back at him, her expression hard and unforgiving.
The signal to begin rang out.
Diansu didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, machinery hissing as his mechanical limbs propelled him across the sand. Lux countered with a spray of ink, the black substance streaking the air like liquid shadow. He dodged, his movements calculated, precise.
The first clash was deafening. Her blade met his mechanical arm with a screech of metal against enchanted steel. Sparks flew, illuminating their faces for a brief moment—her eyes were wide, searching, and he hated that he still saw the little girl he had raised. He shoved her back with a sweep of his arm, his other hand drawing a weapon from his belt.
“You’ve gotten faster,” he said, his voice clipped, almost detached.
“And you’ve gotten older,” Lux spat back, her voice shaking despite her bravado. She moved with a feral grace, her inkblots swirling around her like a living shield. One lunged at him, and he fired a blast from the mechanism on his arm, dispersing it into nothingness.
They danced across the arena, each strike and counterstrike a brutal display of skill and desperation. Diansu’s machinery hissed and groaned under the strain, while Lux’s inkblots grew wilder, more erratic. She was pushing herself too hard. He could see it in the way her movements faltered, in the way her breaths came quicker and quicker.
But she wasn’t giving up.
Diansu advanced, his weapon whirring as it spun, deflecting her blade with a shriek of metal. He pushed her back again and again, forcing her toward the edge of the arena. Her foot slipped, and for a moment, she was vulnerable. He hesitated.
“Why, Lux?” he asked, his voice breaking through the chaos. “Why did you choose this?”
Her expression faltered, just for a second. “Because I forgave RAT,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
The raw truth in her words struck him like a blow. He staggered, and in that moment of hesitation, she struck. Her blade sliced through his defenses, finding a joint in his armor. He grunted in pain as the golden chains erupted around him, binding him in place. His machinery groaned in protest, the strain unbearable.
He didn’t look at her. He looked at Dante.
The boy stood frozen in the stands, his hands twitching like he wanted to leap into the fray. Diansu met his eyes and gave him a single, commanding glare. Dante’s lip wavered, but he nodded, donning his helmet and turning away. His retreat was slow, reluctant, but he obeyed. Diansu’s heart broke a little more.
“Last words, you fucking bastard,” Lux hissed, her voice shaking. Diansu stared at the ground, his screen flickering as he processed her words. Slowly, he raised his head.
“You’ve bested me twice, and that is something I can commend,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his circuits. “Up until now, even when you sided with the scum of the earth rodent, you have made me proud of you. Proud to see the warrior you’ve become.”
Her expression cracked, tears brimming in her eyes.
“However,” he continued, his voice growing softer, “as long as Blake and Nox are still on this Earth, this… this is no victory. There is no victor.” He hesitated, then added, “I still love you, even if you’ve chosen wrong.”
She choked on a sob, charter blade trembling in her hands.
“He’s just trying to manipulate you!” RAT shouted from the sidelines.
Diansu ignored him, his gaze locked on Lux. She wiped her face with a trembling hand, her breaths ragged.
“Long live Oceana,” Diansu whispered, before breaking into maniacal laughter.
The last thing he saw before the golden chains tightened and his vision went dark was Lux’s tear-streaked face.
The arena was silent now, the crowd long gone. Only the aftermath of the fight remained—blood-streaked dirt, shattered machinery, and a single tribute: Diansu’s head resting beneath a makeshift cross. Pinned to it was the tattered sash he had always worn, now fluttering faintly in the cool breeze.
Dante stood at the edge of the arena, his breath hitching as he stared at the sight. His Elysium armor lay discarded; instead, he wore Netherite, the weight of it pressing into his young, gangly frame. His steps felt impossibly heavy as he approached, each one reverberating with the crushing weight of grief.
He knelt before the cross, his trembling hands reaching out to the sash. For a long moment, he just stared at it, his vision blurred by tears that slipped unchecked down his cheeks. Finally, he pulled it free, holding the fabric to his chest as if it might bring him closer to his father. He sat there in silence, shoulders shaking as he wept. Then, with shaking hands, he tied the sash around his neck like a bandana.
“Dad,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He reached for Diansu’s head, now lifeless and cold, the screen dark and dull. “I’m sorry. I should’ve done something. I should’ve…” His voice broke, and he pressed his forehead against the head, tears dripping onto the ground.
“You only cared about Oceana, even in the end.” His words were barely audible. “You always said that as long as Oceana stood, there was hope. I… I’ll keep that alive for you. I’ll make you proud. I promise.”
The sound of footsteps made him flinch. He turned quickly, clutching Diansu’s head protectively, and saw Viceroy and Nox approaching. Viceroy’s face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin, trembling line as he took in the scene. Nox followed behind, their expression unreadable, but their gaze softened as it landed on Dante.
“Dante,” Viceroy began, his voice heavy with sorrow, “I thought RAT had taken you.” He stepped closer, his shoulders sagging. “I… I’m so sorry, kid.”
“I don’t want your apologies,” Dante said, his voice sharp and trembling as he stood. His knuckles were white as he gripped Diansu’s head. “I don’t want anyone’s apologies. Someone has to kill RAT. If it’s not going to be you, if it’s not going to be Nox, then I’ll do it.”
“Dante, stop,” Viceroy said, his voice firm but wavering with desperation. “You’re a kid. You can’t—”
“I can!” Dante snapped, his voice rising. “Do you think Dad cared how old I was when he trusted me to keep Oceana safe? Do you think he would’ve wanted me to sit here and do nothing while RAT—while that thing—destroys everything?”
“You don’t understand what you’re saying!” Viceroy’s voice cracked, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re just a kid, Dante! You’re fourteen! This isn’t your fight—”
“It is my fight!” Dante shouted, his voice breaking as the weight of his grief poured out. He turned on Viceroy, his tears streaming freely now. “It’s my fight because you won’t do anything! It’s my fight because Dad isn’t here anymore, and no one else is going to step up!”
“Dante, listen—” Nox started, but Dante spun to face them, his expression twisted with fury and heartbreak.
“Don’t you dare tell me to stop!” he yelled. “Don’t you dare act like you care! Where were you when Dad needed you? Where were either of you?” His voice cracked again, and his shoulders shook as his anger gave way to raw, unfiltered grief. “You weren’t there. I was. I watched him die, and I couldn’t do anything.”
“Dante…” Viceroy reached out, but Dante stepped back, clutching Diansu’s head as though it were the only thing tethering him to the world.
“I don’t care if you think I’m too young,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less fierce. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous. Someone has to stop RAT. Someone has to make this right. If it’s not going to be you, then it’ll be me.”
“Dante, please.” Viceroy’s voice cracked, his composure finally breaking. He took a step forward, his hand outstretched. “Diansu wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you to—”
“Diansu’s right here in my hands!” Dante shouted, holding up the head. His voice was raw, tears streaming down his face as he glared at Viceroy. “And he’s not telling me to stop. He’s not telling me to hide. He’s telling me to fight.” Both Viceroy and Nox fell silent, their faces stricken. The air between them was thick with tension, grief, and a painful understanding."Someone needs to kill RAT. And if it isn’t going to be you or Nox, then it’s going to be me. The rodent will fall. And if you two want to be there with me, then shape up. "Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed to the ladder out of the arena. The fresh air hit him like a slap to the face, but it did little to clear his mind. He takes a deep breath, looks down at the head in his hands, and knows what he has to do.
“Come on, Dad. We’re going to kill a rodent.”