Day Two: Early Morning

[Zangya]

The sun had risen. Zangya noted that her clock put them only half-an-hour away from Karl Jak’s next announcement—she hoped it would be more entertaining than the last. Only one person dead? Mind you, it was Retane—and Zangya had to admit she wasn’t too sad to see him leave. She knew he had been gunning for her—it hadn’t been so long that she had forgotten.

Amun-Ra-Horakhty was no more. The young woman—the Goddess of Fear—took her place beside her three companions, not with a sense of companionship, but a sense of fear at what they would do to her if she did not comply. The Namekian stood strong; he was most definitely their leader figure. The child stood eagerly. He obviously had a fetish for violent acts. The shinobi was more… concentrated. Zangya, on the other hand, was in fear.

Suddenly, that fear returned to her. She had felt the energy of another one of those companions in the competition as well. Minoshia—she had seen him at the compound, and thought him a friend. She had forgotten what had happened so long ago. Such a long time ago…

Retane was the first to feel the cold blade upon his neck. Fear was something Zangya had taught herself to use—now, Retane was getting the brunt of this use. One of her moon daggers made itself at home neck to the Namekian’s décolletage, and soon, Zangya could see the sweat on the brow of her victim. She sighed with relief. But this battle had not been won yet.

Retane’s grudge began with this. It wasn’t like Zangya could blame him—he had plenty of reason to hate her. She had betrayed him, and in fear, had attacked him. He had not given in, though. Retane was no weakling, and wasn’t about to let Zangya defeat him. He was a prideful Namekian, as much as he was single-focused—that is, focused on the kill at hand, and nothing further—and he was not going to let some puny little Ader take that pride from him.

The Namekian reached up calmly and grasped the blade of the dagger. He didn’t care that the cutting edge sliced into his emerald skin. He didn’t care that suddenly, violet blood was flowing like a waterfall down his arm. No—he took the dagger, snatching it from its owner. Zangya stepped back. Fear had done her no good in this battle.

The warm hand caressed her shoulder. Gokua was back. “You nearly killed me back then.” He spoke calmly, and without anger. She nodded.

“I wish you had killed me,” the female Ader-jin said. If she had died during her battle with Gokua, then she never would’ve had reason to betray the Horsemen.

“No,” Gokua chastised her, “You don’t.” He was right. She was happy to be alive. Suddenly, she recalled the last bit of that short battle.

Retane’s bloody hand closed around the dagger. He stepped towards her, preparing to go in for the kill. This harlot had just tried to do him in—and in his time of weakness, in his time of victory! Zangya looked to Murasaki. His hand was on his blade, prepped to kill her if she tried to resist. Minoshia, however, stood there, watching Retane prepare to slaughter the Ader. He swung the blade down, but it was stopped by a vision… a vision of Retane’s greatest fear, embodied in Zangya’s shield. The Namekian dropped the dagger, and Zangya hovered away. She had won the battle. But the war was far from over.

She looked to Aero. “Aero…”

“Yes?”

“Are you—are you a part of an alliance? I need a family.”