Scene 1 – Silence After the Storm
The battlefield was ruins.
The once-proud arena lay scattered in jagged slabs of stone, each still glowing faintly from where lightning had bitten deep. Smoke drifted upward in lazy spirals, and the only sound was the hiss of rain dripping from shattered walls.
Jemil stood at the center, chest heaving, his blade lowered but still trembling faintly with heat. The Fang of the Predator pulsed in his palm, hot enough to burn but refusing to release him. Each throb was like a heartbeat not his own.
The swordmaster stood across from him, her katana sheathed, shoulders rising and falling with ragged breath. Her gaze lingered not on the ruins, nor on the reward, but on Jemil himself—as though measuring him against a standard only she knew.
"You're still alive," she said finally, her tone caught between relief and irritation. "Good. I was ready to cut you down if you slipped."
