Day Three: Evening

[Minoshia]

He realized sitting behind a rock, surrounded by a makeshift stronghold that wouldn't hold up against the weakest fighters, probably wasn't very interesting to the viewers. He must have been an idiot to think that building this all would actually help him. Any decent warrior, and every combatant left was obviously a strong one, could obliterate his stronghold and probably bury him inside.

The problem wasn't all his foot, for some reason he was lacking confidence, lacking the vigor he usually had. The Prince of all Evil would never build a fortress to protect himself, what was he thinking, and almost on cue, his dark conscience returned from its little vacation it had been on.You fuckin' pansie, what the hell were you doing? I leave for moments to help out body recover and look what you go and do, probably listen to my uglier half. It was like a message from God, or Satan, in the Konat's case. He had survived an explosion from a rocket launcher; he was no pansie that hid behind nature!

Minoshia reached down to his foot, tearing off the bandage, he would weather the injury without help from any bark or sticks. Using his strong leg to propel himself, he jumped up onto the rock and turned on his stronghold. He stretched his right hand out, small energy balls glowing at the edge of each fingertip. The left hand, the one with two missing digits, stroked through his hair, holding it back, out of his eyes. Energy balls soared into the wooden structure, exploding on its surface. The wood cracked, splitting down the grain, its structural integrity being reduced to nothing. The Konat chuckled, laughing at the explosions. Blood from his fingers began running down his cheeks. He felt it rolling down his face, sticking his tongue out and catching a drop, tasting it. Adrenaline rushed through him; the taste of blood in his mouth was long overdue.

Looking at his dismembered hand, he began to laugh. His cackling voice silencing out the insects and small animals that chirped, and growled around him. Lifting the hand to his face, his wiped the blood in old warrior patterns, a streak running down from the forehead, over the eyes, or eye in his case, and down onto the cheek. He pressed the two adjacent fingers down on his cheek again, dragging them along and creating more streaks. The pain was unbearable, but he laughed at it. Pain was only weakness exiting the body.

Now that he had no more use for his own blood, he began to create a dull shimmer of Ki on his right index finger. Bring his two left handed stubs over to the energy; he pressed them into the small hazy ball growing around his digit. The searing pain was tremendous as the wound melted itself together, the skin merging in liquid form, and drying into a solid before his eyes. His teeth were clenched; eyes wide, and sharp like razors staring at the wound. Finally, the pain got to him.

"Are you fuckin happy!? Are you satisfied!? Is this entertaining!?" The last word came out as a hiss, as he stared into the camera filled sky, screaming his lungs out, his arms stretched out horizontally, creating ninety degree angles at his ribcage. " Fuck all of you. You wanted to see me die with that blast, didn't you!?" He waited for an answer, maybe Karl would respond, but nothing came as he shouted. "I promise you one thing. Before I leave this twisted game, you will all see my rage, you will all see the power of my hate."