War Scar

Those words brought surprise to a confused crowd.

"This is the new stage of war. This... is the War Game."

The unfamiliar term was the highlight of all the words that the man known as the "mediator" uttered at that moment, in the center of the square. Murmurs quickly took over the place, as if the residents were too confused to process what was happening.

— War Game?

— With a name like that, it seems like this guy is treating something as horrible as a mere pastime...

— If this is a mediator, then we are doomed! How can a mediator end wars by turning them into something so trivial?!

The audience was so immersed in disbelief as they sought clarification that the feeling was already beginning to turn to despair. Their voices, their worried expressions, the way they moved like agitated sheep before slaughter... everything gave it away.

Still, that figure with purple skin and white hair smiled silently, as if amused by the chaos that was slowly beginning to unfold.

Then...

"Ahem!"

His voice echoed as he cleared his throat. The mediator caught everyone's attention in an instant, as if he had fired a flare into the sky. This, frighteningly, silenced everyone.

Like a wordless command.

— I apologise to everyone. I imagine I have indeed upset you... that was not my intention. Please, I would like you to pay attention to the matter at hand; I assure you it is nothing to be so alarmed about.

His voice sounded calm, but there was a hint of mockery and derision in his tone. It was as if he were saying, "Calm down, it could get worse," with a forced smile on his face.

Still, the silence remained. Both kings, on either side of the young man, just watched him silently. As if they already knew what was coming next, just waiting for the execution.

— As I said before: five representatives from one of the two kingdoms would be selected to participate in the War Game. A selection based on power level, and nothing else. Your intelligence doesn't matter. Your skills will be tested. Your abilities must be above average. Only then could the selected candidates participate.

Opening his arms as he spoke, the mediator slightly raised his face; his reddened eyes stared at each person, as if judging them.

— And of course... anyone can participate. Whether soldiers, nobles, civilians... or visitors from outside.

— What?! — Rigel's deep voice rose at the same moment, as if he had been taken by surprise.

— Hm? Is there a problem, Your Highness?

With Rigel's sudden cry, the young man put his hands behind his back and stared at him over his right shoulder. His smile remained on his lips as he watched the king's unhappy expression.

— That's not what was said at yesterday's meeting! You didn't mention the possibility of outsiders fighting for our cause! I can't even accept that!

— I didn't mention it?

Faced with Rigel's anger, the mediator simply turned towards the king, a look of confusion on his face. Then, one of his hands, wearing a black glove with the fingers exposed, touched his jaw as if he were thinking.

— It seems I really didn't say anything, what a mistake. I'm sorry, Your Highness, it was not my intention to hide anything from you. But still, don't you find this interesting?

— Interesting? How can the involvement of outsiders and possible inoccents be interesting?! This is a war, we are not holding a public event for the amusement of outsiders!

The purple-clad man's gaze remained on Rigel for several long seconds. The smile on his lips did not disappear. Quite the contrary... it widened.

— Your Majesty Rigel... — he said, in an almost condescending tone — do you really believe that this war still belongs to you?

The impact of those words made the air heavy. The audience stopped murmuring. Even the wind seemed to cease.

— What... did you say? — Rigel clenched his fists, his jaw tense.

— What I mean, of course, is that... this war belongs to those who fight in it. And, by any chance, do you kings intend to dirty your own hands?

There was no reply. Only silence and embarrassment echoed between the walls of the square, as if even the nobles themselves felt the truth of the provocation.

The mediator continued, this time walking slowly across the platform, facing first one side, then the other.

— The "War Game" is not a whim of mine, nor is it a joke. It is an opportunity. A neutral field, clear rules, a beginning and an end. No more prolonged battles... no more wars over wounded pride... just representatives with strength and conviction. Fighting... and winning.

He stopped in the centre.

— If that sounds trivial... then ask yourselves: how many lives would you save with a single dispute resolved between ten? And more... — he turned to the side, facing the crowd gathered there. — Who would you like to represent your flag?

The tension was palpable. The people began to stir again, but in a different way. There was confusion, yes... but also curiosity. Expectation. Desire.

And then, the young man raised his right hand.

But before any command was given, a voice roared from the left side of the podium.

— This is ridiculous! — shouted Rigel, his eyes flashing. — A game... a stage, as if it were a play?! Are we really handing over the destinies of our peoples to foreigners for this purpose?

The crowd trembled. Not out of fear, but because of the force of the King of Callus' protest.

"Your Majesty Rigel..." murmured the emperor, in a more restrained tone, his eyes half-closed.

— Don't give me that serenity, Antares! Are you going to say you accept this so easily?

Antares remained silent for a moment, observing the people... the sky... and finally, the white-haired man in front of him.

—...Actually, yes. — he replied calmly. — I find the idea... interesting.

— Interesting?!

— Think, Rigel. For the first time in decades, we have a chance to resolve this impasse without losing thousands of soldiers. Without prolonging this war for another two or three generations. Five representatives... it's a small price to pay compared to the tens of thousands we've already buried.

— You speak as if this mediator is trustworthy! As if this were a real chance for peace! I only decided to give him a chance because I was hoping for a real solution, not something as stupid as this! 

— You hurt my feelings, Your Highness. — murmured the young man with purple skin, as he watched the discussion unfold.

— Would you rather continue betting on sieges and exterminations? — Antares retorted, in a drier tone. — Or would you rather continue pretending that your people do not suffer as much as mine? Or maybe are you worried? Worried that your five warriors aren't strong enough to surpass my warriors? Without you to fight, everything can be reduced to ashes in a second, this is what you fear the most.

The King of Callus clenched his teeth by the words of the emperor, but said nothing at first.

The tension between the two grew. The murmurs of the crowd did not cease. And then, Antares added:

— But, frankly... don't talk to me about justice, Rigel. Or about right and wrong. I don't want to hear about it, not from the man who stole the Exo Nihil sealed in Sunara... just a week ago. We wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't broken the treaty of 350 years ago.

The square exploded in shock.

"What?!" several shouted.

— Rigel stole the Exo Nihil?

Watching everything closely, Akashi whispered to himself, as if trying to understand his own words. Maki and Kaira remained silent at his side, watching the scene.

Rigel immediately turned to Antares, his face contorted with rage.

— That's a blatant lie! No Callurian has been to that planet in the last few years! If anyone violated the Exo Nihil treaty, that person could only have come from Artoria! After all... you are the ones who have the transporters to Sunara opened to public, not us!

Antares, still standing upright, let out a slight sigh.

— A convenient excuse, coming from someone who has always wanted absolute power over this substance. Convenient... and predictable. You haven't changed, even after all these years. It's pathetic to think that we fought side by side when we were younger.

Antares gave a half-smile, without joy.

— That day, in the Gralthaak Pass... do you remember? It was your spear that kept me from falling. And today, you would push me without hesitation. How much time has been lost between these versions of us?

— This is no time to be lost in memories, Antares. Not after you tried to take the throne from me when I became the King of Callus before the people. Your wounded pride and envy were the real reasons for our current situation, don't forget!

The tension was almost unbearable. The crowd listened to every word in complete silence. The soldiers, restless, seemed ready to intervene at any moment.

It was then that the mediator, his hand still raised, snapped his fingers.

CLAC

A dry sound, almost insignificant, but one that reverberated like thunder.

— Please, gentlemen. That's enough, okay?

His voice cut through the tension like an invisible blade.

— You two are forgetting... that you are not on your thrones. — the mediator spoke. — You are before the people. And the people want decisions, not accusations. They want hope, not recycled hatred.

He turned, walking calmly to the center of the podium once more. The mediator remained indifferent, but at the same time cold and malicious.

— If you want war, there is a field for that. If you want to confront truths, there is a place for that. But not here.

Silence fell again.

— Time is running out, Your Majesties. Every word spoken here... is one second less for your champions to prepare. And believe me... they will need every second.

The mediator returned to the center, a slight smile dancing on his lips.

— The arena will decide who is right. And who should be remembered.

And then, raising his hand once more, the silver image in the sky was activated: dozens of lines intersecting, like circuits of living light, tracing the contours of the dimensional field of war. A place that no one there recognized, floating in the void between worlds, as if it existed outside of everything.

— The selection will begin in three hours. The chosen names will be announced right here. One by one. Kingdom by kingdom.

— Three... hours? — Antares spoke up, his voice restrained but stern.

The mediator did not look away, but smiled slightly.

— Ah... sorry. I didn't mention that detail too? What a mistake, again.

Antares narrowed his eyes, with a restrained sigh.

— Your disrespect is as great as your confidence, stranger.

— My disrespect is proportional to the urgency of the situation, Your Majesty. — He bowed slightly, with a theatrical gesture. — And my confidence... is based on what I have seen before. Worlds, kingdoms, empires... collapsing because of decisions that were too slow.

Then, turning his back, he walked to the last step of the podium, stopping with his hands behind his back.

— The world changes. Chaos waits for no kings or armies. And when chaos moves... only those who dare to play survive.

His body was covered by a pale light that grew beneath his feet—like a portal.

— We will meet here in three hours.

The light closed like a circle of broken mirrors, and the man disappeared without a trace.

The square remained silent for several long seconds. Then, the sound of the crowd exploded. Shouts, questions, fear, excitement.

A new chapter was beginning. And time... was running out.

△▼△▼△▼△

About twenty minutes passed.

The square was still somewhat crowded, but compared to the previous throng of civilians, the situation was under control. People seemed confused, frightened, and lost, but they tried to calm down after the announcement of a game that would decide the fate of the two planets.

Nearby, there was a small, cozy establishment—a curious mix of rustic cabin and futuristic design. The sign, engraved on darkened glass panels, displayed the name "Heiltaus" in translucent letters. The dark wood of the facade contrasted with thin blue metal tubes that circled the structure, emitting a slight hum of energy.

Tall windows with rounded corners revealed the interior: padded synthetic leather benches, circular tables supported by gentle gravitational fields, and, in the center of the hall, a suspended spiral-shaped furnace emitting moderate heat in all directions.

The aroma of toasted bread, unfamiliar spices, and a local drink called Yurgmilh hung in the air. Even with the tense atmosphere in the city, that small point of light seemed like a rare refuge of normality.

— What a situation... I didn't expect the announcement to end up being for more battles. — Maki muttered, her chin resting on a black stone table.

— And to top it off, we may end up getting involved in it if we are selected. Like that purple guy said: everyone can participate. I imagine civilians are involved, which would be unfair to trained warriors.

Akashi replied, slowly stirring something like a small white plastic spoon inside his cup—a reddish liquid swirled gently. His gaze indicated that many thoughts were running through his mind at that moment.

— He's crazy, isn't he? Where would an idiot like that be a mediator? He should bring solutions that would calm both sides, but instead, he's adding fuel to the fire! If it were up to me, I'd go there and cut him in half, and then convince the two kings to make peace by force.

— Your ideas for solutions are very peaceful, huh, Maki?

— Yeah, that's right! — With a large smile, Maki nodded before continuing. — By the way, Akashi... what will you do if you're selected? Do you plan to participate?

Akashi didn't answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on the reddish liquid in the cup, which was now spinning slower and slower.

— I don't know yet... — he answered. His voice was calm, but there was something deeper there. A restlessness. — Honestly, I didn't come here to fight, but to try to calm the war... only the last foreign mediator who decided to do something ended up creating more chaos. Even if I went there... they wouldn't listen to me... but if all this continues at this pace, maybe the choice won't be mine to make.

Maki leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Hers half-closed brown eyes indicated a certain discomfort.

— So you're going to participate anyway...?

— If necessary. — Akashi sighed. — But that's not all. When we were in the square... I felt something. Three presences. Two of them were scattered among the crowd, well disguised. They were... as if they carried the very rot of the world with them. A suffocating feeling. But... there was one in particular...

— In particular? Are you referring to the guy on top of the tower at that time?

— That guy... — Akashi raised his eyes and looked directly at Maki. — He was different. His presence was much heavier. Almost like... an abyss. He just appeared before the mediator arrived. His energy and that of the man on stage were not similar... his was much deeper.

Kaira, sitting next to Akashi with a steaming mug in her hands, just watched them. Her silver eyes, now more attentive, seemed to seek reassurance in his presence.

— Do you think the mediator and these guys are connected...? — Maki asked, frowning.

— I don't just think so, I'm almost certain. A game... a war... something tells me that all of this was planned before he arrived. And we're in the middle of the board.

Maki was silent for a few moments, tapping her fingers lightly on the table.

— Well, if we're going to fall into this game, then at least let's do it together. Three heads are better than one, right?

Akashi raised an eyebrow, giving a half-smile.

— Do you really want to stay close to me and Kaira? I thought you were going to cut the mediator and disappear afterwards.

— Tsk, don't exaggerate! — Maki looked away, blushing slightly. — I... don't like the idea of walking alone in this place. With all that "rotten energy" around, I feel a little uncomfortable. And... you guys aren't that bad.

Kaira chuckled softly, hiding her smile behind the mug she held with both hands.

— Then let's walk together. — Akashi said, raising his cup in an informal toast. — And let's avoid unnecessary deaths. If the game is inevitable, let's at least play it right.

Maki raised hers as well. Kaira mimicked the gesture with her juice glass, smiling without fully understanding, but feeling included. There was a brief moment of lightheartedness. But then... Akashi looked away. His smile faded subtly.

— ...Actually, — he murmured, almost imperceptibly. — I was thinking of leaving Kaira somewhere safe first.

Maki raised an eyebrow in surprise. Kaira, in turn, slowly turned her face toward him, her eyes widening silently.

— Huh...? — Maki's voice betrayed her confusion. — What do you mean? Aren't you guys traveling together because you don't have anyone else or something? Even if you just leave her at some inn or whatever, if you don't comeback from the battle, how would she stay?

— This game... this war... what comes after that... it's not the kind of path a child should follow. — Akashi continued, still not looking at her. — I don't know where this will take me, but I know I can't drag her with me. And when I leave Callus... I think... I think Kaira won't be able to come with me.

Silence fell like a sharp blade on the table. Maki said nothing; she just watched from the side, serious. Kaira, her hand trembling, slowly lowered her mug.

— Ak... shi... h-hnm...

Akashi finally looked at her. His expression was calm, but his eyes were heavy.

— If I can guarantee that you'll be safe... I promise I'll leave you in a place where good people will take care of you like your parents would.

Kaira looked down, her blue hair falling over part of her face. Her fingers clenched the fabric of her nightgown tightly.

And then, silence. But something in the atmosphere shifted—a silence heavy with unspoken emotions. 

△▼△▼△▼△

Meanwhile, not far from the square, a figure shrouded in shadows glided through the narrow alleys of Callus's upmarket district. His footsteps made no sound. He was a tall man with a proud bearing, wrapped in a black cloak with gold detailing. Only a peach-coloured strand of hair escaped the darkness of the fabric, falling over his left eye, which shone with a silvery hue.

His other eye, however, was different. Red as freshly spilled blood.

From the shadows of the alley, his eyes scanned the square. And then they fixed on someone.

A second man — motionless, standing out from the crowd like a living statue. His skin had an icy lilac tone, his silver hair tied in a high bun. He wore a tailored black overcoat.

The eyes of this second man — golden, vibrant eyes — narrowed when they met the figure in the alley. The world seemed to fall silent for a second. The atmosphere around him rippled, as if reality itself was trying to recoil from the presence of that hatred.

— Damn you...

The whisper escaped like boiling poison. It was a silent reunion, but the scars it reopened roared inside them both.

The lilac-skinned man blinked slowly. And in that brief moment, his body trembled. A memory... a wound.

The scarlet surface of the desert planet, illuminated by a scorching sun. The ravaged fields... and "him" there. Standing. The same neutral gaze. That same black cloak. A monster... masked as a man.

The man with lilac skin saw himself in that moment again. He never forgot...

He had dug his fingers into that forbidden object, absorbing its energy. The power flowed like a river of primordial matter. And yet... without a word, with a single blow, his arm flew away amid sparks and dark blood.

Before he even understood what had happened, the man in the black cloak had already broken through his defence and crushed the Exo Nihil with the palm of his hand.

"You cannot beat me."

The words echoed like thunder.

His teeth gritted. The veins in his neck throbbed. His aura grew. — Black, dense, suffocating. He remembered the sound of his own stomach being crushed. Of the Exo Nihil shattering like glass.

But the man in the black cloak didn't move. With his arms crossed, he just stared at him with that damn smile. One corner of his mouth rose—subtle, lazy. To the man with lilac skin, it was a mockery: "Want to try again?"

The man with lilac skin took a step forward. The ground cracked. The shadow writhed. But he stopped. He inhaled and held his breath for a second that lasted too long.

— Not now...

With a sudden movement, he turned on his heels and left, swallowed by the crowd. The man in the black cloak remained silent.

△▼△▼△▼△

A few hours later...

The sky over Callus was turning golden. The main square was crowded again. Rigel and Antares stood tense. And then, the mediator appeared, his body submerged of a hole opened on the ground. 

His figure was impassive, a slight smile on his face as his hands rested behind his back. 

— The moment has come. —  his voice echoed across the square. — In a few moments, the chosen ones will be marked. The mark shall appear over the skin of your hands.

He held out one of his hands.

— If your hands shine with the symbol of Drakkhen, the ancient dragon, you will represent the Kingdom of Callus. If the symbol is that of Fenrithul, the silver wolf, you will fight for the Kingdom of Artoria.

Tension exploded.

— W-will that mark appear now? — asked an old man.

The mediator just smiled. And with a snap of his fingers... the light descended. Golden beams cut through the sky and several hands began to glow. The participants already chosen, present between the crowd.

Akashi, Maki, and Kaira watched from one end. And then... the symbol glowed. But not just one.

— Um... guys...? — Maki called out, looking at her own hands.

— W-wah?! — Kaira broke out in a cold sweat.

Both of the girls' hands glowed.

— This must be some kind of mistake... — Akashi saw two symbols, one on each palm.

The mediator smiled, as if there were no surprise.

— Well, well... it seems we have special guests from outside our solar system, hmm?

Akashi, Kaira, and Maki stared at him. The symbol burned softly. They had been chosen. 

And there was no turning back.