The void swallowed Nyx's figure the moment she retreated into her throne. Alex was left standing alone, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. His sword lay some meters away, half-buried in the black floor. His ribs ached where her knee had driven into him, and his arms trembled with the memory of her relentless flurry.
Any sane person would have collapsed right there. But Alex's lips pulled into a grin that was half grimace, half exhilaration.
"Not yet… I'm not done yet!" His voice echoed across the shadowed arena.
He forced one step forward. Then another. His body screamed, but his soul burned brighter. The void around him trembled, reacting to the sheer defiance leaking from him.
Up on her throne, Nyx's eyes opened again — faint stars glimmering in the abyss. She did not sigh, nor shake her head. She simply stood, her blade humming in her hand, as if she had expected this from the very beginning.
