?The massive iron gate on the far side of the cavern groaned as it swung open, but no beast emerged. Instead, a squad of armored hobgoblins shoved a group of five humans out into the dusty center of the arena. They were ragged, their skin bruised and bloodied, their eyes wide with the raw, glassy terror of the condemned.

  ?The gate slammed shut behind them with a final, echoing thud.

  ?"Don't do anything yet," Kora whispered, her voice barely audible over the cheering crowd. "You'll know when it’s time to act."

  ?Phantom’s heart hammered against her tiny ribs. She looked at the humans—people who looked like the neighbors she’d had back on Earth—and then back at Kora. How will I know? she thought, her stomach churning with a cold, hollow dread.

  ?As if in answer, a guard from the spectator boxes tossed five rusted longswords into the dirt at the humans' feet. Then, one by one, the torches lining the arena floor began to go out.

  ?The cavern didn't go completely dark. The King’s box and the spectator galleries remained brilliantly lit, but the light was positioned so that it didn't touch the arena floor. It created a "light-moat"—a ring of brightness that separated the spectators from the pit. To a Void Walker, the arena was now a playground, but the exit was a wall of pure, impassable light.

  ?The humans scrambled for the swords. In the sudden gloom, Phantom’s Perception went into overdrive. She could hear the frantic, uneven thudding of their hearts. She could hear the scrape of steel against the dirt.

  ?Kora moved first. She didn't run; she simply dissolved. She became a ripple in the darkness, a predator in her natural element. Twitch followed, but his nerves were frayed. His "blink" was erratic, his small form flickering in and out of visibility as he stumbled forward. Skitter was a blur, his speed making him look like a shadow cast by a racing cloud.

  ?Kora erupted from the floor behind two of the men. Her daggers were a silver flash in the dim light, plunging into their backs with surgical coldness.

  ?Twitch, overwhelmed by the screaming crowd, tripped over a stone and tumbled onto his face right in front of a third human. The man let out a desperate cry and raised his sword for a killing blow.

  ?Clang!

  ?Skitter appeared just in time, his blade catching the man’s throat in a savage arc before the sword could descend.

  ?Phantom stood frozen. Her daggers were heavy in her hands, but her feet felt like they were rooted in the stone. She watched the remaining two humans back away, swinging their swords at empty shadows. She couldn't do it. She was stronger than all of the goblins combined, but her human soul was a moral anchor.

  ?From high above, Murk-Gnasher watched with a tired, bored expression. He raised a hand and flicked his wrist. "Enough," he grunted. "Take them back to the Lot. This one is a dud."

  ?The silence in Lot One was thick enough to choke on. They had been marched back in disgrace, their food portions halved for the night.

  ?Kora turned to Phantom, her face twisted in a mask of confusion and simmering rage. "Why did you freeze? If you don't entertain him, he cuts the food. If he cuts the food, we get weak. If we get weak, we die."

  ?Phantom looked Kora dead in the eyes, her voice cold and steady. "I won't kill those who don't deserve it."

  ?Kora’s fist moved in a blur. The punch caught Phantom square in the jaw, sending her small goblin frame sprawling onto the cold stone.

  ?"If they are in that arena, it is their life or yours!" Kora screamed, her voice cracking. "You shouldn't need any more reason than that!"

  ?Before Kora could even draw another breath, Phantom was off the floor.

  ?The darkness didn't just coil around her; it exploded. She moved so fast she seemed to teleport. Before Kora could react, Phantom had her pinned against the damp wall, a rusted dagger pressed firmly against the elder goblin’s throat.

  ?"Remember," Phantom whispered, her oversized eyes glowing with a dangerous, dark intensity. "Just because I don't want to kill, doesn't mean I won't."

  ?She held the blade there for a heartbeat longer than necessary, letting the threat sink in, before pulling back and vanishing into the corner of the room.

  ?For three days, no one spoke. The tension in the small room was a physical weight. Even Twitch stopped his constant drumming, terrified that any noise would trigger another explosion.

  ?It was Twitch who finally broke the silence, his voice small and trembling. "So... uh... Kora? The ones that watch us. The other goblins. Why wasn't they locked up like us?"

  ?Kora looked at Twitch, her anger having faded into a weary, somber responsibility. She looked at the two newborns—Twitch and Phantom—and sighed.

  ?"Whenever the hobgoblins find a female human in the raids, they perform a ritual," Kora explained, her voice hollow. "It’s dark magic. It produces us. Most of the litter are just... regular goblins. But any born with the ability to touch the elements are locked away immediately."

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  ?Phantom leaned forward, listening intently.

  ?"The King fears us," Kora continued. "He knows that if even one of us reached our full potential, his crown would be ours. So, he uses us for the Games. With each win, the opponent gets harder. A beast, a knight, those that need punished, and eventually a champion. He ensures we provide a good show... and he ensures we die before we grow old enough to challenge him."

  ?Phantom looked at her calloused green hands. She wasn't just a gladiator. She was a biological weapon designed to be used up and thrown away.

  ?The training in Lot One became a grim, silent ritual. Kora no longer tried to strike Phantom; instead, she focused on teaching the group how to find the "soft spots." They practiced on the training dummies until their hands bled, learning how to slip a blade between a breastplate and a neck cover. Phantom followed along, her movements becoming terrifyingly precise. She mastered the reverse-grip and the shadow-flick.

  ?

  ?The second Arena match came faster than expected. This time, the massive gate didn't reveal terrified humans. Instead, three hulking hobgoblins were shoved out. They were stripped of their armor and weapons—traitors to the crown. Even unarmed, they were twice the size of the Void Walkers, their muscled limbs capable of snapping a goblin child in two.

  ?"Go," Kora hissed.

  ?Skitter and Twitch moved in a synchronized dance of shadows. Skitter’s speed was a blur, cutting the hamstring of the first traitor before he could even roar. Twitch, despite his shaking hands, managed to "blink" onto the back of the second, driving his daggers into the base of the skull.

  ?Phantom stood at the very edge of the Arena, her back against the cool stone wall. She watched the slaughter with an expressionless face. The crowd jeered at her, throwing small stones and rotted fruit from the galleries, but she didn't move. She was a ghost in her own story.

  ?The King’s gaze lingered on her, his yellow eyes narrowed in a mix of curiosity and growing irritation. He waved his hand, and the traitors were finished off.

  ?"You're making us do all the work," Kora spat as they sat in the Lot afterward, cleaning the blood from their blades. "They’re getting tired, Phantom. Their shadows are fraying."

  ?"I told you," Phantom replied, her voice low. "I won't kill without reason."

  ?"Then you'll die," Skitter muttered, not looking up from his sharpening stone.

  ?The interludes between fights became shorter. The King was impatient. The third match saw a group of palace guards pushed into the pit. They had been caught sleeping on duty—a death sentence in Murk-Gnasher’s kingdom. They were given their iron breastplates to prolong the "entertainment," but their swords were withheld.

  ?It was a massacre. Kora and the others were no longer hesitant. They were becoming efficient machines, using the darkness to bypass the iron plates. Phantom remained a silent sentinel in the back, her daggers never tasting blood. To the crowd, she was the "Broken Walker." To the King, she was a puzzle he was losing interest in solving.

  ?The fourth call to the Arena felt different. The air in the tunnels was colder, and the rhythmic drumming of the crowd had been replaced by a tense, expectant silence. As they stepped onto the packed earth, the torches didn't just go out—they were removed entirely, leaving only the "light-moat" around the edge.

  ?In the center of the floor, the massive gate ground open. What emerged was a sound that made even Kora’s breath hitch: a wet, rhythmic clicking, followed by the heavy thud of something massive.

  ?The Champion was pushed out by ten hobgoblins using long spears. It was a Bat Wyvern, a Stage two creature that had been systematically broken. Its skin was a map of jagged scars, and the webbing on its forearms had been brutally ripped away, leaving it flightless. It hissed, its blind, milky eyes scanning the dark.

  ?The moment the light-moat settled, the Wyvern took a deep breath. Its chest expanded, and then it unleashed a focused, subsonic shriek—a Sonic Boom.

  ?The air distorted, ripples of kinetic energy tearing through the dark. Twitch, frozen by his own anxiety, didn't have time to blink. The wave hit him squarely, the pressure snapping his small bones and collapsing his chest instantly. He was dead before his body hit the stone.

  ?"No!" Kora screamed.

  ?The three remaining Void Walkers lunged into action. Kora and Skitter became blurs of desperation, aiming for the creature's legs, but Phantom did something else. She reached out with her mind, attempting a Mindlink to soothe the beast.

  ?Stop! she projected into the dark. We don't have to do this!

  ?The feedback was a chaotic storm of agony and fear. The Wyvern’s mind was a shattered mirror, repeating a single, frantic thought: Must kill or they’ll hurt me... Must kill or they’ll hurt me...

  ?The beast was beyond reasoning. It lunged, its massive, clawed foot coming down on Skitter with the weight of a falling boulder. There was a sickening crunch of stone and bone. Skitter was gone.

  ?Phantom’s blood ran cold. Kora, fueled by a suicidal rage, leaped toward the Wyvern’s throat, her daggers raised. But the creature’s ears twitched; it heard her heartbeat. It turned its head and opened its maw. Another Sonic Boom erupted at point-blank range. Kora was tossed backward like a ragdoll, her body hitting the far gate with a finality that silenced the crowd.

  ?Phantom stood alone in the center of the slaughterhouse. The silence was overwhelming. She looked at the twisted remains of her team.

  ?The Wyvern turned toward her, its breath smelling of copper and rot. Phantom knew there was no mercy left to give. She had to end its suffering.

  ?She threw her left dagger with a flick of her wrist. The Wyvern, sensing the projectile, pivoted and sent a Sonic Boom at the incoming blade. The metal shattered in mid-air.

  ?But the dagger was a distraction.

  ?Phantom was already gone. She had sunk into the deep-dark, traveling through the shadows cast by the creature’s own massive body. Just as the Wyvern finished its shriek, Phantom erupted from the shadow directly beneath its head.

  ?With a guttural roar, she thrust her remaining dagger upward with all the strength she possessed. The rusted steel drove through the bottom of the Wyvern’s jaw and pinned it shut, the tip of the blade piercing through the roof of its mouth and into its brain.

  ?A fountain of hot, dark blood showered Phantom, staining her green skin black. The Champion let out one final, muffled wheeze and collapsed, pinning Phantom’s legs beneath its massive head for a moment before she slid out.

  ?The Arena went silent. Phantom slowly turned, wiping the gore from her eyes. She looked up at the King’s box. Her gaze was no longer that of a "dud." It was a furious, predatory glint that made the goblins in the front rows pull back in fear.

  ?Murk-Gnasher leaned forward, the torchlight catching the predatory grin on his face. He didn't care about the three dead children. He had seen what he wanted.

  ?"Looks like I have myself a new Champion," the King grunted, his voice echoing in the still cavern. He leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "Take her back to Lot One."