Weaver

The sound of everyone gathered in the arena was deafening. It was as if they were all part of one great monster, roaring fiercely. Then, when Lobo entered, the sound vanished.

It wasn't a gradual fade. It was a clean, sharp cut, as if the world had been suddenly muted. The audience hadn't stopped shouting, but the man had sucked the air out of the noise, numbing every sound around him.

His blade was already out, making the very air vibrate. Unlike the shadow I'd fought, I knew this was the real deal. I could feel his killer instinct. His gaze never broke away, signaling that the battle had already begun inside our minds.

I was waiting when he reached the arena center. I pulled the amber stone, stretched my arms, and conjured my sword, ready for what was likely a life-or-death confrontation.

I glanced at the crowd, seeing my friends among the swarm. They cheered and smiled from a distance, but I felt their spirits right there with me on the dirt floor.

Even though Lobo radiated an aura scarier than his shadow, I felt no fear. My motivation and will to win were far greater than any threat he posed.

"I expected you to be wiser."

"I can't quit without at least trying."

"Even if it costs you your life?"

"I would sacrifice my life to find the one I seek."

Lobo smiled, but I knew that smile was one of superiority. He never considered me his equal. And even though I had defeated someone like Roderick or trained under Lyra, he didn't believe he could be beaten. And maybe a part of me thought I wouldn't win either.

But still, there I was. Standing in front of him, taking the same stance as so many other times, preparing for the imminent fight.

When his slender body maintained that shadowy stillness, not even bothering to hint at a combat stance, that's when I understood why he made others quit, even if they were no match for him.

He didn't just want to win. He needed to subjugate his opponents, forcing them into self-humiliation. What he called the "smarter decision" was actually just his pleasure in watching others choose to retreat rather than fight a worthy battle.

But I was different. I ignored his threats and provocations. I had a purpose. I'd started from nothing, blind to this world's rules, fueled only by the will to improve and do whatever it took to find my sister.

And unlike back then, I wasn't alone. I hadn't made it this far by myself. I was no longer that high school kid locked in his room, making excuses to avoid his sister.

I felt aversion toward that person from before, who hadn't known how to cherish the moments he had and who now deeply regretted those choices.

One of the reasons I wanted to find my sister so badly was precisely to apologize, so I could have a chance to tell her I was sorry. That I should have treated her better, should have been a better brother. I continued to pursue the grimoire, the study of summoning, so that one day I could say this to her face.

And even with the revelation that she might no longer exist, I still had to continue. I needed certainty, and I could only stop when I achieved that.

The man in front of me was nothing more than an obstacle on this path, something I needed to eliminate, even if I didn't know how. Somehow, I would do it, just as I had all the other times. His sinister aura would be the fuel that told me to try harder, not to stop.

Finally, the drums sounded. I filled my lungs with air and closed my eyes, sensing the threads around me, visualizing his movements, anticipating them, and finding him in the shadows.

Then, when my heart found a moment of calm, I charged.

Lobo repelled my attack easily, barely moving to do it.

"You know you can't win."

He provoked me as I struck in quick succession. His evasive movements were fast, but I could keep up, and as soon as he seemed to be in one place, there I was to attack him again.

"I won't lose here."

Just like the blows I landed against his shadow, these were also absorbed by his blade, which seemed like a black hole. Every flash, every movement was swallowed, and the more I tried, the more my sword was weakened.

I was fighting not only a man but the very idea of emptiness. And when I got close and my blade seemed about to hit him, he created impenetrable barriers that threw me back.

Over time, I started to tire, and that was his cue to jump into the offense, launching attacks while I stayed on the defense, parrying blows with my sword while simultaneously using elemental magic to try and create an opening.

But nothing worked. I tried to freeze the ground, hit him with gusts of wind, but nothing seemed to truly affect him. That blade of his swallowed everything around it, and while he still looked completely unfazed, without sweating, I was already at my limit.

I slowly began to have trouble keeping up with him. No, he was the one speeding up, and I couldn't track his movements anymore. And he wasn't attacking wildly, everything was calculated, as if I were acting exactly as he had planned.

"I can still accept your surrender."

He shouted between blows, but I couldn't answer. I didn't have the strength. And even if I could say something, I would refuse his offer. I hadn't been defeated yet, so there was still hope.

Until suddenly, he vanished, and by the time I realized he was behind me, it was too late. He delivered a blow capable of knocking me down instantly. I dropped to my knees, gasping. I saw his sword up close, as close as my own death.

I couldn't hear the crowd or see my friends anymore. My eyes closed from exhaustion with every passing minute, and the strength to keep them open drained away.

"Your time is up."

He said, lifting the blade into the air, and I knew his next move would be the end of me. I was cornered. Defeated. Everything I had learned, all the sweat and training, had been useless.

I closed my eyes, waiting for Lobo's final strike.

"I knew you would win."

"You are ready."

"Don't give up."

"I believe in you."

Nina, Lyra, and Darin.

The moments we had shared together flashed through my mind. My training with Lyra, where I always lost, until one day I managed to defeat her.

The day I went with Nina to the bakery to buy a new cake.

The late-night conversations with Darin, while he spoke nonsense in his sleep.

I thought maybe this was what people saw when they were about to die. Things that, in the end, just made everything much more painful. I wished that... my time in this world could have lasted a little longer.

I still had so many things I wanted to do with them. I wanted to spend more time with Nina, hear more stories from Darin, and see Lyra's smiles when she talked about strategies.

The memory of the days in the library surfaced, our days while I was secluded. The contained laughter and shared glances. Everything was a scene from the past. A past that now hurt me.

"We'll be rooting for you."

What they had said appeared to me once more amidst so many memories.

"We'll be there, motivating you to keep going."

They were there, in that arena, cheering for me. And if they were cheering until the last moment, why had I given up?

I wasn't dead, not yet. So I had to keep fighting.

I opened my eyes, and beside me, I wasn't alone. I could see the images of my friends, weapons raised, ready to face the opponent ahead.

"You always complicate everything."

That's what Nina had said that day in the library. So this time, I decided to follow my heart. I wouldn't think of the threads as just what I knew. I had to feel them, letting myself be guided by the way I sensed them.

I closed my eyes again. Took a deep breath and... felt. The threads were no longer abstract concepts or equations to be solved. They were life, they were emotion, they were the very essence of magic pulsing all around me. And I was part of this web.

Without thinking, I raised my hand. I was no longer holding my sword. Instead, my fingers traced lines in the air, and where they passed, they left a trail of light, shining with an intensity I had never managed to create, floating before me.

Lobo's final strike came so fast it was just a blur. But I didn't need to see it, I could feel the threads moving, the violence of his motion disturbing my web. My body moved before my brain could process it, dodging the attack with a mastery I had never possessed. My eyes remained closed, but I saw everything. Every dust particle, every breath of the audience, every minimal contraction of Lobo's muscles.

When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me. And for the first time, I saw something beyond disdain in his eyes, it was confusion. He attacked again, and again my fingers moved in the air, creating a flash of pure energy that didn't block his attack, but deflected his blow, changing its direction.

"Impossible."

I didn't answer Lobo. Instead, I charged, and with every step, the threads that made up the ground seemed to ignite. The arena, which had been silent, dominated by my opponent's aura, had a voice again.

I wasn't the same Haru. I was directly connected to the threads.