Day Two: Evening

[Android 17]

As the twosome walked along the series of hills and valleys, they took little time for small talk. A couple of feet away, Minoshia was busy scanning the surroundings and gazing up at the diminutive number of stars that managed to shine through the small veil of clouds that hung low overhead. The other member of the unorthodox twosome—Seventeen—was busy staring at his bloodstained arm.

The android had tried several times to wash his hands using some of the extra bottles of water he had lifted from those clods earlier in the competition. But try as he might, the liquid just washed over his fingers and splashed soundlessly against the thick grass being crunched beneath Seventeen’s boots. After the fourth bottle of water, the machine-hybrid found himself wrought with an overwhelming frustration.

“Get off of me!” He suddenly screamed as his trembling fingers snaked up his arm and dug into the ensanguined white cloth of his undershirt. With a brutal, shaking motion, Seventeen ripped the bloodied sleeve of his the shirt off and threw it at the ground. Before the torn cloth had a chance to flutter to the earth, the android erased it from existence with a blatantly excessive blast of ki.

“Hah!” Seventeen shouted—the man’s voice a manic shriek as he stared at the ashes that were being scattered to the winds. “I win, so you can just go fuck yourself!” With an insane titter, the android jutted his index finger toward the quickly dissipating cloud of ash and smoke. The frenzied smile that had spread across the raven-haired warrior’s visage quickly began to falter as his eyes dropped down to his now shirtless forearm. To the almost suffocating dismay of the android, the skin that been underneath the sleeve was drenched in the nondrying blood.

“Nice try, kiddo,” spoke the callow voice that had tormented the android’s thoughts for the majority of the game.

“Not now,” Seventeen hissed, oblivious to the fact that the voice wasn’t originating from the twisted depths of his subconscious. After all, the cybernetic warrior was too busy clenching his bloodied forearm with his left hand and twitching to pay attention.

“Don’t fall apart on us now, champ,” the voice added as a cold hand fell upon the cyborg’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say you could touch me, Minoshia,” Seventeen rasped, his voice a deep growl as he spun to confront what he believed to be the konat. Unfortunately for the android, as he batted away the white hand and turned to confront who he thought to be his mohawked traveling partner, his entire view of reality became horribly skewed. Instead of the dark prince of the konats, Seventeen found himself staring at an unkempt, scarred version of himself.

“What the fuck?” The android shouted, drawing his boomerang from his belt and preparing to disembowel the impossibility standing just a few inches from him. “You’re not real!” Seventeen screamed, his hand shaking so violently and erratically that he could have passed off as an epileptic.

“I will be,” the now embodied presence snarled, his lips curling up into a Cheshire grin as he rubbed his pale, clammy hands together. “All good things in time!”

“I’ll fucking crush you!” The machine-hybrid wailed, his voice laden with fear as he shut his eyes and desperately pleaded that he had passed out and was knee-deep in a nightmare. “Just get the hell away from me,” the android added, clenching his eyes tightly shut as he clung to his hopes.

“What the fuck are you screaming about?” The cold, apathetic roar of Minoshia caused the cyborg to snap out of his mania and back into the degenerated reality that housed the abyss. Opening his eyes, Seventeen found himself staring down at the frenzied form of the konat prince, who had drawn his baseball bat some time ago and seemed on the verge of concussing the android.

“I…” Seventeen mumbled, his weary eyes scanning his surroundings for any sign of the liberated presence. “Apologize,” he added weakly, his voice almost a whisper as he glanced down at his ensanguined arm. The vibrant, red blood of his girlfriend had run deep—staining not just the outer layer of his skin but also his very soul. It was a gruesome testament to the corruption of the abyss.

Seventeen let out a faint sigh and clenched his bloody fingers into a fist. Above everything else, he had to win; he couldn’t let his tournament erode all he stood for and then shit him out like he was some worthless, washed up hack. He had to conquer…he had to prove to any and all of the doubters that his rage burned stronger than the abyss itself. He couldn’t stop until nothing remained but the roar of his hatred.

“Oh,” Minoshia grumbled, tugging the android away from his thoughts for a fleeting moment. The konat lowered his baseball bat down to his side and stared at Seventeen, who looked just as uncomfortable in this situation as he did. “Just do not fucking let that happen again, it’s irritating,” he added, his words stinging with a fury that said a little bit forced, as insane as the possibility seemed.

Seventeen simply nodded his head and let his bloodstained arm swing down to his hip. There wasn’t much of a need for any more senseless small talk between the warrior, so without any more delay, they continued down the hillside, their walking just a little bit slower as they both took the time to gaze upon the twinkling celestial bodies that dotted the foggy night sky. They both knew that when the sun finally regained its control of the skies that the killing violence would return in spades. When that time finally came, there would be no time for these little pleasantries.