Phil's voice boomed across the arena, straining to rise over the noise of ten thousand spectators. "Alright, ya knuckleheads, listen up! Due to the fact that the stage looks like a Titan sat on it, we're takin' an unscheduled intermission! Grab yourselves a bite, stretch your legs, whatever ya gotta do. Don't get too cozy—we'll be back once the cleanup crew puts this disaster back together!"
The crowd groaned, some laughing, some booing. Vendors along the edge of the Colosseum immediately sprang to life, hawking skewers of meat, fruit, amphorae of watered wine, and even hero dolls in the likeness of Zack and Sephiroth. Repair crews trudged in, dragging slabs of stone and muttering under their breath about "lunatic kids with enough strength to destroy the town."
Down in the dust of the waiting room tunnel, Helios half-carried, half-dragged Zack by the arm. The boy's legs worked, but only barely. His grin was still plastered on his face, crooked but stubborn, even as his body sagged with exhaustion.
"Could… could you treat me a little nicer?" Zack groaned, stumbling as Helios unceremoniously hauled him through the door.
Helios didn't slow. He shoved Zack onto a bench with all the care one might give a sack of grain. "You're heavy," he said simply, tone flat, though a faint smile tugged his lips.
Zack wheezed a laugh despite himself. "That's the thanks I get for giving you a fight you found fun? Cold, man. Cold."
Helios only raised an eyebrow and walked away, de-summoning Equilibrium in a mix of electrified white and black light.
Two priestesses hurried over, hands glowing soft green, but Helios waved them off before they reached him, sending them to Zack. A curl of light gathered in his palm. Curaga. The emerald radiance wrapped him in a perfect veil, sealing every scratch and cut until no mark remained. By the time the priestesses blinked, Helios was already lowering himself into a chair in the corner, expression composed, legs crossed as if he'd been untouched all along.
"Show off," Zack muttered, grimacing as one of the priestesses leaned down to begin healing him. His body jerked as ribs set themselves with a painful crack. "Ow, ow, ow—hey, careful! I'm fragile!"
"You're not that fragile," the priestess replied with a patient sigh, pressing her hands to his chest.
"Fine, fine—'ruggedly resilient but still deserves sympathy' then." Zack's grin wavered but never vanished.
A shadow crossed over him. Hercules knelt down, his brow furrowed in concern. "That was incredible, Zack. Really. The way you fought him—you were amazing."
Zack tilted his head, smile softening for a moment. "You mean that?"
"Of course, I mean it. You went toe-to-toe with Helios, the runner-up up who is almost as strong as Sephiroth. Most people wouldn't have lasted a single exchange."
Zack chuckled dryly, waving a hand. "Yeah, yeah. Still lost, didn't I?" His tone soured for half a heartbeat, then he brightened again. "But hey—maybe next time I'll win. Do you think you'll be up next, huh? Think you'll win? That'd be awesome."
Hercules shook his head. "Honestly… I don't know. This is my first time in the Advanced Cup too. And I'm… kind of nervous."
Zack blinked. "Nervous? You? The guy who can lift statues like they're barrels?"
Hercules rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "Power doesn't mean everything. These fighters are all veterans… and Phil's expectations are high."
Zack slapped him on the shoulder, wincing at the movement but grinning anyway. "Cheer up, man. Unlike me, you actually got Phil to train you. That's a huge edge. You've already got more potential than I do."
Hercules' eyes widened. "Zack, don't say that. You're—"
"Persistent? Relentless? Annoying?" Zack offered with a laugh. "Phil calls me Captain Eager for a reason. But hey, I'll keep chasing him until he puts me in the stars. That's the dream, right? To be up there forever."
Hercules smiled at that. "Yeah. That's the dream."
They shared a laugh, the tension between them loosening.
Then Zack leaned in close, eyes gleaming with mischief. He jerked his thumb toward the stands, where Kurai, Skuld, Tempest, and Helga stood together, watching the crews rebuild the stage.
"Alright, Herc. Be honest with me. Which one's your type?"
Hercules nearly choked. "W-what?!" His face turned crimson in an instant.
"You heard me," Zack pressed, grin widening. "C'mon, don't pretend you've never thought about it. Tempest? She's got that whole mysterious warrior vibe going on. Skuld? Cute and terrifying—dangerous combo if you ask me. Helga's built like a battering ram but hey, some people are into that. Kurai… well, she's Kurai. Scary, but the cool scary."
Hercules sputtered. "I—I don't have a type!"
Zack threw an arm around him, ignoring the priestess' scolding as she tried to heal his ribs. "Oh, come on! You're too pure for your own good. You gotta figure it out sometime. What happens when some monster drops a girl into your lap and you don't know how to respond?"
"That's… not how it works!" Hercules protested, but his voice cracked halfway through.
Zack leaned closer, stage-whispering. "Bet you it's Tempest. Yeah. Definitely Tempest. Or maybe Skuld. She'd chew you up, but you'd love it."
Hercules buried his face in his hands. "Zack…"
"Hey, don't be embarrassed. Everyone's got a type. We'll figure yours out. Don't worry—Captain Eager's on the case." Zack laughed and gave him a playful nudge.
But the laughter cut short when a voice slid behind them, soft and cold as a knife.
"Those four would kill you both if they knew you were discussing them like that."
Both boys froze. Slowly, very slowly, they turned their heads.
Helios stood directly behind them, arms folded, blue eyes calm and sharp, the faintest smirk tugging his lips.
Zack paled. "We were just—uh—"
"Joking!" Hercules blurted, his voice too high. "Definitely joking!"
Helios let the silence stretch, gaze cool and unblinking. Then he turned and walked back to his chair without another word.
The two boys exhaled in unison, collapsing against the bench.
"He's terrifying. Do you think he'll tell on us?" Zack muttered.
"Yeah, but I don't think he will," Hercules agreed quickly.
Then Zack grinned again, shaking his head. "But at least he didn't actually blurt it out. Yet."
They both laughed nervously, the sound echoing awkwardly in the waiting room.
Above, the crowd still buzzed, the vendors doing brisk business. Phil stomped around the stage, pointing at workers and shouting, "No, no, that slab goes there! You call that even?! We ain't buildin' a chicken coop, we're rebuildin' the greatest arena in the cosmos!" He kicked one stone into place himself, muttering about "heroes these days."
The minutes dragged. Zack stretched out on the bench, sighing. Hercules sat beside him, fidgeting. Helios stayed in his chair, eyes closed, as if meditating. The sounds of chisels and hammering filled the lull.
Finally, Phil's voice boomed again, echoing through the corridors. "Alright, ya bums! Stage is patched, crowd's fed, and we're back in business! Fighters, get your butts in gear! Next round, Hercules vs. Sephiroth! Well sucks to be the kid."
The waiting room stirred. Hercules stood, rolling his shoulders. Zack clapped him on the back, wincing at the pain but smiling anyway. "Your turn, Herc. Go knock 'em dead. Try your best to survive as long as you can."
Hercules managed a small smile, nerves still buzzing. "Thanks, Zack."