But he didn’t have a chance to ponder, since the representative faded back into nothing as Elach felt his chains holding their weapon in place violently snap. They’d found a way to break his Issi. He’d hoped his chains were unbreakable, but the skill and power gap between him and the representative was far too large for just the existential bleed to bridge. Elach pulled himself upwards, standing on thin air above the arena, and tried to get a better look at the field below.

He didn’t see the Issi barreling towards him, but just as it was about to cleave him in two Elach pulled himself straight back down to the ground, feeling his feet crash into something below him. He didn’t waste a moment, punching and kicking with reckless abandon at the representative below him, chaining them in place for just a second before they started to shiver and shake as the representative sloughed them off. Elach pulled himself through the representative with an outstretched knee, taking them square in the gut and pulling them with him to his destination. He could see them ever so slightly whenever they made contact, their form flickering into a recognizable state as long as he touched them, but with one last punch before pulling away to the other side of the arena Elach knew he wouldn’t survive another clash if it was initiated by the representative. They’d underestimated him at the start, but now they knew everything he could do, how to break free of it, and were fighting accordingly. It didn’t help that Elach’s knuckles seemed to have taken more damage than anywhere he’d hit the representative, either.

A cone of destructive Issi blasted forth from the representative, aimed directly at Elach. He went to pull himself away but felt yet another cone of destruction spring into being on either side of the first one, then another directly above it, all moving so fast he hadn’t had time to react to them. But the one directly in front of him, that one was moving at a relative crawl compared to its sibling techniques. He was cornered. Elach watched in horror as the obscured death crept towards him, taking half a step back and closing his eyes. He reached out, focusing on the Issi in front of him, and tried to chain it.

A few seconds passed, and Elach cracked open his eyes to see that the technique was frozen in place. His chains struggled to keep it inert, cracking and flaking off as the more powerful Issi ate away at them like hot water through ice, and he dove to the side as they shattered completely. His breath was stolen away as he slammed to the ground, the blast roaring past him; a visage of death that would have utterly consumed him if he’d been hit.

Bile rose in Elach’s throat, and he felt it quickly whisked away to somewhere else. An intermediary place that didn’t exist, and would hold him until he was fully dissociated and transported to who knows where. The existential bleed’s effects were taking hold, and far faster than he’d expected. Using his Issi must have saturated his body with the bleed, which gave him power while limiting his time.

“No, nononono.” Elach muttered, biting down hard on his cheek. The pain did nothing to slow the existential bleed’s takeover. But with the spread of the bleed came power. It was a race against time.

The representative was so faded in grey that Elach couldn’t make them out. That had to change; his mind was slowing under the effects of the bleed, and he wouldn’t be able to dodge anything based solely on reactions anymore. And if he could chain the offensive blast, then why not the obscuring haze?

“Are you feeling the backlash of your pointless accelerant?” The representative taunted with a dark laugh, the sound of a blade scraping against glass accompanying their words. “Lie down and die. I promise to make it as painless as possible.”

Elach grit his teeth and tried to latch onto the grey around him, but this wasn’t the same concentrated blast of Issi he’d successfully diverted. It felt like he was trying to fill a rain barrel by swiping away drops with his bare hands, but with the existential bleed coursing through his pathways and veins, he scooped up raindrops by the handful and threw them into the rain barrel with a desperate vigor.

The grey burst apart, leaving a roiling pathway directly to the representative. His container shuddered and shook under the effort of keeping the technique at bay, but the existential bleed rushed in to fill the void his Issi was leaving. And with it came more dissociation.

He saw a grassy field with three monoliths etched in different colours, a calming wind blowing through and ruffling his hair. It was superimposed over the stunned form of the representative, and he could somehow feel both glass and grass under his feet at the same time. He had almost no time left, and if he wanted to keep the representative’s technique at bay, he had to act right now.

“Please.” He whispered to himself, pulling into the representative’s personal space with a knee aimed at their stomach. Much to his surprise it landed, a retching cough emerging from behind their mask as they stumbled backwards.

The wind was blowing stronger. The scent of fresh air ravaged his nose, and it became ten times harder to resist the pull of blissful dissociation.

Elach jumped backwards and anchored himself just beyond the representative, pulling himself feet first into the representative in an attempt to send them flying out of the arena. A blade rose to meet his soles, but it was in a block. He pressed down against the representative’s superior strength until his Issi gave out, the chains shattering into shards of sticky black Issi that fell around him like obsidian rain.

He lost feeling in one arm and both of his legs as the representative faded from view, the plains stretching out before him as he let out half of a terrified breath. The bleed had won out. He pressed one hand to his other shoulder, feeling the same slick hardness as his other injury. The pressure from beyond welled up into a fever pitch, and he felt something asking for permission for some reason.

The something was almost panicked. Elach smiled and coughed, reaching out to the familiar presence with permission. "Sorry, Flow. We should've ran when we had the chance."

Everything faded to black.

“Representative Emereth has slain contestant Elach.” The representative called out from the arena, their voice unaffected by the injuries Elach had managed to inflict. Sechen looked on in abject horror as Elach tried to raise his arms, but only one came up. The representative had bisected him from left shoulder to right hip, and Elach now lay there split in two with some sort of black mirror speckled with white and blue where his guts should be.

“For the act of killing one of our competitors, representative Emereth will be forced to the bench for ten minutes and the opponents may put forth a competitor to replace their fallen, if they have one.”

Sechen grit her teeth at the representative’s words. They knew this was going to happen. They wanted Elach dead, for some reason or another. She clenched her fists and looked at Metea/Irric, who looked like she was about to walk in there herself and murder the representative, consequences be damned. Sechen looked inwards, past her ruined headspace and into the patchwork of scars that she called her container. She still had a little Issi in there, but if she did some real damage to herself she just might be able to empower....

“Now, that ain’t sportin’ at all. Rules for thee and not for me just don’t scream fair play. What kinda crooked game are you running here, cousin?”

Sechen swiveled her head to the arena, where someone new had appeared. He wore a top that looked to be made from a single long dark purple sash, with silver patterns embroidered onto it that Sechen couldn’t place as any organization’s symbols. And she liked to think she knew most of the powerful people’s symbols. Long purple lines that started at his fingertips ran up both of his arms, ending at a circle with four connected purple dots on his shoulder.

“And who might you be?” The announcer asked, their voice betraying the minimal effort it had taken to bring down Elach.

“Call me the replacement.” Prisoner said with a wide smile. He looked around as if taking in the scenery, then furrowed his brow and put his hands on his hips. “Now, this just don’t seem fair. Why does your team get an advantage when killin’ one of ours, but we get penalized for killin’ one of yours?”

“Your team’s representative agreed to the terms.” The representative said, resting their weapon on their shoulder bladed side down. It didn’t even bite through their clothes. “Take it up with them if you are unhappy with any of the regulations in place.”

“Well, I would, but… well…” Prisoner spread his arms and did a quick spin. “They ain’t here. Which, by your regulations, means the title of representative goes to the most powerful combatant on our side. Ah, correction, the most powerful eligible combatant on our side. Cloudy over there got herselves kicked out thanks to your little schemes, so that honor falls squarely on me.”

The representative huffed, sticking their blade into the ground and leaning on the pommel. “Rainshear is here, though she’s behind a curtain of obscurity Issi that you certainly couldn’t pierce with your measly prowess.”

Sechen frowned, trying to read the newcomer’s Issi as she looked upwards at the empty stands. She couldn’t see anything through them, and from what she could sense of the newcomer, he certainly couldn’t. But that fact didn’t seem to diminish his bravado; no, the newcomer seemed to take the insult and absorb it into him, his smile widening and his gestures becoming more grandiose.

“Well, I can tell you that none of the current 271 spectators match what they seem to be whisperin’ about a Rainshear. In fact, there are quite a few horrendously one-sided regulations that’ll have to be rewritten or struck out before I’ll allow this contest to continue.” Prisoner said. The representative went to speak, but Prisoner held up a hand and cut them off. “The replacement of fallen contestants aside, which I know we both know is just plain wrong, there’s also the brutality complex, the outside time limit, and… oh, what’s this? Unlimited reserve members when one of your contestants decides to bite the dust?” Prisoner tsked as he shook his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you went into this expecting to lose.”

“The terms were discussed at length with your representative.” The enemy’s representative said, but there was a hint of doubt in their voice. Sechen let a smirk reach her lips, but the knowledge that even if this mystery man managed to get the rules changed for the better he still wouldn’t be strong enough to fight the representative quickly brought her tooth-gritting frown back.

“Previous representative. Pre-vi-ous.” Prisoner said.

“He just left Elach on the ground.” Metea/Irric muttered, her eyes welling up with tears. “He deserves better than that.”

“Do you have any idea who that is?” Sechen asked as the silence in the arena stretched on.

“I thought he was one of Revel’s friends.” Metea/Irric said, finally taking her eyes off Elach’s corpse as she turned to Sechen.

“He’s probably one of Rainshear’s backups.” Sechen said as she gestured at the ring. “This was probably all a part of her plan; but one thing went wrong.” Sechen jabbed a thumb at her chest. “They killed Elach, not me.”

“...Because Revel won’t ever settle down with Rainshear while you’re alive.” Metea/Irric realized. “And I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now, then they’d pin everything on the perfect scapegoat.”

“Elach.” Sechen finished, her gaze shifting to Elach for a second before she had to look away. “You think there’s a chance he survived?”

“Practitioners don’t all bleed the same.” Metea/Irric said, wiping at the thin, almost clear blood that ran down her face. “And they don’t all die the same, either.”

“Now, I just realized you’ve been silencing me for a while now.” Prisoner suddenly said with a voice that echoed through the colosseum, making Sechen jump and lock her eyes back on to him. “What, was our conversation somethin’ you don’t want gettin’ out to the masses?”

“How did you break free of my Issi?” The enemy’s representative said bewilderedly, raising their blade level to Prisoner’s chest. “Speak, whelp.”

“Now, that ain’t nice. I still called you cousin even though I’ll be siftin’ through your insides in a moment.” Prisoner said with a shake of his head. “But I think we can skip all the formalities; no more rules, aside from already eliminated contestants can’t be re-entered. And both sides can replace all their dead from anyone else in the arena.”

“You think you’ll manage to kill all of us? With your pathetic Issi?” The representative laughed haughtily. “You’ll die pathetically like the corpse by your feet.”

“Ah, right, Elach.” Prisoner said, grabbing both of Elach’s arms. “You two look after that. I might have somethin’ to fix him up after I deal with this little disturbance.”

Sechen blinked as Elach’s corpse thumped to the ground in front of her, and she stifled the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake her as she scooted as far away from the corpse as she could. Metea/Irric just sat there, her eyes unblinking, as she stared at what used to be Elach while her body shook uncontrollably. Sechen couldn’t tell if it was from fear or rage, but if Metea/Irric felt anywhere close to the way Sechen was, it was probably a mixture of both.