The battlefield was quiet for only a moment as participants were waiting to know who would be fighting next. Some truly didn't want to stay anywhere near the fight while some couldn't wait for the childish game to finish.
Enel stood tall, arms crossed and a bored smirk curling at the edges of his lips as his eyes scanned what lil, worthless minions he has. This game had gone on for too long, even though he started with and needed it to lengthen but he hated the way he lost in the first round. He hated to know that what might be before him—the lil kid, of all things—was a true kami. His pride ached, and heart ached. His mind, a whirlwind of irritation and frustration, which was masked beneath his lazy, almost smug expression. He's the one who should have been a kami, with strong fighters, not some kid.
But at the same time Enel knew that he wasn't.. strong enough to fight the same kid. When he was grasping under the kid's leg he had thought to fool the kami, knowing that his minions ought to be far more stronger than some blue sea dwellers but the first round stated otherwise. Hell, his own people—worthless White Berets—betrayed him rather than going down like the worthless, disposable things they are.
Enel refused a repeat of the first round, as he raised his hand and rattled his brain to remember who was the strongest among his followers.
"Yama." Enel smirked as he called out the name, which rolled off his tongue and watched the hulking commander of the Divine Soldiers, a massive brute whose sheer size could alone level entire buildings, step forward while cracking his knuckles, ready to fight. His 'Stomach Mountain' technique has to be enough to obliterate Nika's team members, Enel thought.
"And you!" Enel added, pointing at Ohm, who sat atop his massive dog, Holy. The priest of iron, the one with the most composed mind yet possessing a cold blooded outlook on the world. Even if Enel found his obsession with ending suffering tedious, there was no doubt that Ohm was strong and would give Nika's strongest warriors a run for their money. Or perhaps even defeat them. Enel smirked, his mood lifting slightly.
Enel, then, turned to the three remaining Divine Soldiers. "You'll fight as well." He spoke, narrowing his eyes at them for a moment to make it clear that he didn't want any repeat of what happened in the first fight.
Then, almost as an afterthought, Enel let his gaze rest on a familiar, bruised figure slumped slightly to the side—Satori. The priest flinched when Enel's eyes landed on him. He was still weak from his previous battle, his once-cheerful demeanor dampened by pain and uncertainty. But Enel didn't care.
"Tch." Enel's lips curled into disdain. Even half broken, Satori was his priest, his pawn, and he would again. "You will fight too, along with the other two." He gestured to Hotori and Kotori, his remaining priests, who perked up instantly while Satori gulped, still injured and aching, but nodded to his kami, unable to refuse him.
That made ten.
With that, Enel exhaled through his nose and turned toward Luffy, his smirk widening. "This should be more than enough to crush whatever pathetic team you put together, Nika."
Luffy, perched on a thick branch of the great tree in the center of Upper Yard, swung his legs lazily beneath him as the golden light of the afternoon sun dappled through the leaves, casting warm patterns on his already glowing skin. His strawhat tilted slightly back, revealing wide, innocent eyes as he scanned his friends.
His finger tapped his chin before pointing towards the trio slightly far away. "Robin, Nami, Usopp, you're up!" Luffy announced with an easy grin. They hadn't fought yet and he wanted to give them a chance. More importantly, he knew that both Nami and Usopp needed confidence in themselves. And a battle like this, where he was watching over them, making sure they won't get hurt a lot, was the perfect opportunity!
"W-Wait, me?! Are you sure?!" Usopp, however, paled instantly, not wanting to do anything with the fight.
"Yeah, Usopp! You gotta show them how strong you are! Show 'em what you got!" Luffy beamed, not needed to coax Nami, who shivered slightly but accepted it, or Robin, who merely smiled, already prepared for the fight.
Next, Luffy's gaze flicked to Zoro, who stood with his arms crossed, looking as if he was already ready to fight again despite the wounds from the first round. His injuries were present, wrapped up with proper medical equipment, but nothing enough to stop him from participating once again. Luffy grinned and pointed. "Zoro, you too!"
"Hah," Zoro smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Thought you'd never ask."
Then, Luffy's eyes landed on Chopper. The little doctor looked listless, his eyes darting between his crewmates with worry. Luffy knew Chopper didn't like fighting too much. He didn't like seeing anyone get hurt, but right now, that same kindness was weighing on him. If he wasn't out there, wouldn't more people suffer and be wounded? And Chopper definitely didn't want that.
Luffy tilted his head, then called out. "Chopper, you're in."
Chopper flinched, his eyes wide with hope yet with dread. "M-Me?! B-But—"
"It's gonna be okay, Chopper." Luffy said softly, his eyes flicking from Zoro to Chopper, clearly giving his first mate the command to have Chopper's back and make sure the little doctor, the youngest of them in the crew, didn't have to get into a major fight once again and do his duty as the doctor of the team.
Enel, watching from his high seat, the sappy moment, clicked his tongue in annoyance. How could Nika's team be this sappy? It's making him want to retch. "That's it?" He questioned instead. "That's not even ten members. What a pitiful challenge."
Luffy, not bothering to even look at Enel, lazily lifted a finger and pointed at Gan Fall and Pierre. Then, at Braham, a Shandorian warrior; and Joziar, a White Beret. "They're in too."
Enel arched a brow, then chuckled. "Hah. Fine, fine. I am merciful. You have ten minutes to prepare. Use them well." And with a crackling burst of lightning, he vanished.
.
The golden halls of the God's temple were eerily silent, save for the angry hum of lightning that clung to the air like a sentient being. The golden embellishments glowed dully under the dim, flickering light of eternal thunder, casting long, jagged shadows across the marble floors. The silence was oddly deafening, stretching thick and heavy, waiting for the other shoe to drop only for Enel's sharp, impatient tap of sandals to shatter it mercilessly.
Enel's jaw was tight, his teeth grinding together as he moved through the corridors with a slow, measured fury. Every step, every breath, every second he waited, felt like a ticking countdown to an inevitable storm which seemed to be chasing him. His heart drummed against his ribs, not in fear—no, he refused to admit it's due to fear—but in a simmering, festering frustration that refused to be quelled.
The Ark Maxim should have been completed months ago. His grand vessel, his divine chariot, his stairway to the fairy vearth, to the heavens above should have been done by now, considering the worthlessness of the humans. Yet it still remained an unfinished husk, tethered to this wretched land, bound by the incompetence of those weaklings who dared to call themselves his workers. They were worse than that. He wouldn't even prefer to call them his slaves, seeing how they weren't even able to complete a simple task.
Enel's lips curled into disgust as he heard the same clattering sound of metal against gold, the same pitiful, scared chattering of the ones who were working on his ship and wasting his precious time. His eyes narrowed as he stepped into the vast chamber where the Ark was being fixed. The scent of burnt metal and sweat thickened the air, and the workers—filthy, trembling, fearful fools—scrambled at his arrival, ducking their heads low at the presence of him.
Enel didn't give a damn shit to the clammy, pale faces or the raw and blistered hands from endless labor. After all, it wasn't enough. It never was enough. They should have worked faster. Harder. The fear of kami should have instilled fear in them to complete their tasks before time. It should have made them work harder to not deserve his divine punishment.
A streak of electricity arced from his fingertips, snapping against the nearest pile of metal scraps with a sharp, violent crack. The workers flinched as the acrid scent of ozone filled the chamber, their heads lowering, shoulders caving in as though they could make themselves smaller under his gaze.
Enel sneered. Pitiful.
"You wretches," He spat, his voice echoing like thunder rolling through the temple. "You useless, pathetic creatures. How long must I wait? How long must I be forced to stand among mongrels, waiting for you to complete the only thing that matters?"
A murmur rippled through the workers, none daring to speak too loudly. A brave—or perhaps foolish—man dared to stammer out, "L-Lord Enel, we're working as fast as we can, but the gold—t-the wiring, it takes time to—"
"Excuses," Enel hissed. His golden staff struck the ground with a resounding clang, sending another bolt of lightning ripping through the air. It struck mere inches from the man's feet, the raw power sending him sprawling onto his back with a cry. The others recoiled in horror, the metallic scent of burnt fabric and singed hair curling through the air.
Enel's nostrils flared, his mind an electrified storm of rage. 'It should have been finished. It should have been done. I should be leaving this place behind—ascending to where I truly belong.' But instead, he was here, in this wretched place where the skies no longer obeyed him, where his lightning refused to work the same way it did, where the winds seem to cloud his mantra and whispered of another god—
No. No. He refused to believe it.
But then why hasn't he been able to impart his divine punishment on anyone? Why hasn't he been aware of Nika approaching his land?! Why hasn't his mantra worked the way it used to? Why couldn't he see the outcome of this—this battle, this pitiful challenge they are having? Why hadn't he won in the first round?
Everything had gone downhill the moment the 'real' kami came in. A primary part of him knew that he was the real deal but he couldn't accept it. He can't accept that a kid is kami of the sun and the skies. The ruler of the heavens which he wants to claim. How could he?!
His fingers curled into a fist, sparks crackling between his knuckles. It was absurd. Impossible. There was no other god but himself. No one above him, no one greater. He was Kami. He was the heavens. And yet...
Nothing worked the way he wanted anymore. His own powers glitched, getting restrained by the atmosphere, getting blocked by the conducting air, as if they suddenly got a mind of theirs.. or, in the presence of their real kami, got the courage to defy the laws of nature.
And Enel could realize it very well, that the skies will no longer bend to him and the storm will no longer shriek in his name.
And didn't it infuriate him more than anything? Of his elements betraying him?! No longer obeying him?!
"If the Ark Maxim is not completed by evening, there will be nothing left of you but ash." Enel warned, turning back to his cowering workers with his face a mask of cold fury. If he can't escape from Nika, then he will make sure to give the insufferable, worthless, incompetent people the worst death they can't even imagine.
.
The air was thick with tension, though it mostly came from two very particular—and very terrified—members of the Strawhat crew, who felt incredibly unlucky to have been selected for the second round of the challenge.
"We are going to die." Usopp cried, his voice wavering dramatically as he clutched onto Nami's arm with one hand while the other gripped the dials he was supposed to use to protect himself. "Nami, we had a good run, didn't we?" His lower lip quivered, as pinpricks of tears gathered in the corners of his eyes with the clearly noticeable fear on his face. "Our short but heroic lives will be honored in legends."
Nami, paler than usual at Usopp's words, couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine. But even as her nerves frayed, she refused to let panic take hold. "You're not helping, Usopp." She muttered, not quite ready to pry his fingers off just yet. "And we are not going to die."
Hopefully.
"You don't even believe that yourself, do you?" Usopp questioned, reading Nami like an open book.
Nami grimaced, unable to hide the fear rattling through her. "B-But we trained, right? Luffy prepared us, right?" She shuddered at the memory of their so-called training—if it could even be called that. Luffy had been a terrible instructor in the traditional sense, often laughing, goofing off, or pushing them into ridiculous situations that barely made sense. And yet, they had trained. Even when Luffy fell sick, even when he was off chasing whatever caught his fancy, or had entered into a sulking phase for a while. They had pushed themselves. Not out of obligation, but because he had shown them the ropes and made it clear that it was their choice to follow.
And after Alabasta—no, Nami realized, even before that—their worries about Luffy had only grown. They had seen, time and again, how he threw himself into danger without hesitation, how easily he was wound up after using a ridiculous power, how he had started growing paler with each fight. And in those moments when they had stood frozen, powerless to help... the sting of their own weakness had been unbearable. That was why they trained. Not just to survive, but to be stronger. To stand beside Luffy, not behind him. To fight with him, not just watch as he carried the burden alone.
..Even if he's a god now, the one who has the weight of the skies and sun on his small shoulders, they were not going to abandon him. They were all going to stand for him, always.
"Yeah," Usopp muttered, gulping. "That's right." He straightened his back but his grip on Nami didn't loosen. The sight of the battlefield ahead still made his knees feel weak, but he refused to give in.
Then, as if to reassure himself, he let out a sharp breath and declared, "If I could survive Luffy's training, then nothing can take me down!" He smacked a fist against his chest, his voice gaining strength. "I mean, have you seen how that guy trains? That wasn't training—it was survival! If I could handle that, then this battle is nothing! I am going to win!"
Nami blinked at him, startled by the shift in his tone. Then, despite the earlier fear gripping her heart and soul, a laugh burst from her lips. "Thanks Usopp." She grinned, feeling herself light. She needed it. "I needed it."
Usopp puffed out his chest, striking a dramatic pose. "That's right! And when I win this battle, the great Captain Usopp's name shall be sung in songs for generations! The mighty warrior who faced insurmountable odds and emerged victorious!" He turned to the watching Skypieans and Shandorians, throwing his arms wide. "Tell my story well! Engrave my name into history!"
The Skypeians and Shandorians stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment. Some even exchanged glances, unsure if they should be inspired or concerned. Others wondered if Nika truly was a cruel trainer to his friends but that didn't seem the case of how every one of his friends seemed ready to protect him in a heartbeat without him even telling them.
One of the Shandorian warriors muttered under his breath, "Is he serious?"
A Skypiean next to him sighed. "I don't know, but I kind of want to see how far he'll go."
Nami wiped a stray tear from her eye, her laughter settling into a warm smile. "Alright, Captain Usopp," She said, rolling her shoulders, finally feeling the tension ease. "Let's win this, shall we?"
Usopp nodded fiercely. "For honor! For glory! And for our survival!"
"Mostly for survival," Nami corrected.
"Yes, especially for survival!" Usopp agreed, before turning to the battlefield with dramatically narrowed eyes. "Now, let's do this!"
.
On the other side of the battlefield, Zoro stood with his arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his lips. The moment his name had been called for the second round, he'd barely been surprised. Of course, he was in.
Sanji, however, leaned against a jagged pillar of cloud stone, cigarette dangling between his lips, watching Zoro with a raised brow. "You look damn pleased with yourself, moss-for-brains." Sanji muttered, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. He was not jealous.
Zoro cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders in an exaggerated stretch. "Not my fault I'm important enough to fight in another round." He teased, smirking. "Guess Luffy knows who he can rely on."
Sanji scoffed, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Tch. Another round, huh? Bold of you to think you're that special when I'm probably going to fight in the final round instead." He tapped the ash from his cigarette, glancing at Zoro with a knowing smirk. "Which means I'm the more important one here. Ever think about that, Marimo?"
Zoro narrowed his eyes slightly. "That so?" His smirk didn't waver, but there was an edge to it now. "Sounds like jealousy to me, Cook."
"Jealous?" Sanji's lip curled into a sneer as he straightened, stepping closer to Zoro. He wasn't going to let Zoro win. "At least I'm not sulking about Luffy being Nika."
The grin on Zoro's face dropped in an instant. He didn't look at Sanji. Didn't say a word.
And that silence? It was worse than any argument Sanji could have thought of.
Sanji's breath hitched for just a second, and his fingers twitched as he pulled the cigarette from his lips. He wasn't a fool. Zoro had always been tight-lipped, but there was something about this—something that made the swordsman react in a way that set off every alarm in Sanji's gut.
"You are sulking," Sanji muttered, but his voice had lost its earlier bite. He had joked about the topic, not realizing that he had hit a sore spot. He was studying Zoro now, watching the way the swordsman's jaw tensed. And then he realized, 'Zoro knows something I don't.' And this has to be something which has Zoro restless.
Zoro's arms remained crossed, but his fingers clenched slightly against his sleeve.
Sanji's heart pounded in his chest. "Why?" He demanded. "Why don't you want Luffy to be Nika?" His voice was firm, but deep down, something cold was creeping into his stomach. Like dread and fear. He hated those feelings. He hated to see the flicker of emotions on the stoic face of Zoro. He had noticed it earlier too, when he had set everyone right. A pang of hurt, fear and helplessness. But why?! Why would Zoro feel this way?!
Zoro exhaled sharply, still refusing to look at him.
Sanji grit his teeth. "I know just as much as you do now," Sanji pressed, his frustration bubbling and questions popping in his mind. "So what's the big deal, huh? What is it that you're keeping to yourself?!"
For the first time in this whole exchange, Zoro hesitated. His fingers twitched again. And then—sweat. A single bead rolled down the side of his face.
Sanji's blood turned to ice. 'There's still more I don't know.' Sanji hated that feeling. He knew that it was Luffy's choice to tell whoever, whenever he wants but it wasn't helping Sanji to realize that there's something more to all of this.
"Oi, Marimo," Sanji started, his voice low now, cautious. "What else is there?"
Silence.
Sanji took a step closer, his chest tightening. "Is it bad?" He questioned, pressing the matter even if his voice was quieter this time. A huge part of him felt jealous but there was another—only a little part, mind you—that felt concerned for Zoro, for him to carry the unknown—worrying and sad—secret about Luffy all to himself. "Is Luffy being Nika something to worry about?"
Zoro finally moved but it was just to drop his gaze to avoid eye contact with him.
Sanji's fists clenched at his sides, feeling a bucket of cold water dumped on him.
He needed to know. Whatever it was Zoro holding to himself, it was big and concerning. "Damn it, Zoro, tell m—"
CRACKLE!
In a sudden spark of electricity, Enel emerged on his golden throne, demanding attention.
"Enough stalling, weaklings." His voice rang out from above, with his smirk nothing short of arrogant, dropping with the certainty of his victory. "The second round begins now."
Sanji's attention snapped to Enel, but his mind still lingered on Zoro, who was already moving to the battlefield without sparing him a single glance. Sanji's cigarette snapped in half as the weight of the unspoken words pressed down on his chest like a vice.
Their conversation wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Not until he knows what's wrong.
.
The battlefield was set once again as the vast iron cloud arena, newly reconstructed by Ohm, stretched across the sky, waiting with bated breaths to see who would claim their victory in the second challenge. The remains of the previous battle was still fresh, scattered across the ground, vividly showing the evidence of the violent clashes that had already taken place.
On the left side of the battlefield stood Team Enel, their bodies blooming with pride and confidence. They were standing in a half circle, a formation of warriors prepared to fight for their so-called god.
Yama was the first to step forward, his massive frame looming like a titan among all the men. The hulking divine soldier, Enel's strongest among the Divine Guards, cracked his knuckles with an arrogant smirk as he entered the arena, waiting to crush his opponents and bring victory as a present to his god. Although his presence was enough to intimidate anyone, yet four divine soldiers followed in his wake, their movements synchronized like shadows tailing their master. Each one was spread out, ensuring coverage of their side, ready to crush anyone who dared to step forward.
"Let's do this." Yama's voice boomed with confidence as he licked his lips, wanting to already taste the blood of the enemies he was going to crush beneath his feet.
While perched atop his loyal friend Holy, Ohm sat with an air of detached contemplation, his cold eyes were sweeping over the battlefield like a vulture surveying its prey.
"Pain is temporary. Fear is fleeting. Death is the only true salvation. The weak suffer because they resist the inevitable. And thus, to end suffering.. one must be granted death." Ohm's voice was calm with an unnervingly resolute tone which cut through the air like a sharpened blade, lodging deep into the weak's hearts. "But fear not, pathetic fools, I'll make sure to give each one of you salvation, a mercy none of you deserve."
A shiver ran through almost everyone—not just among the enemies, but in his own allies too. The priests standing alongside Ohm, even those devoted to Enel's rule, exchanged uneasy glances. They had pledged their loyalty to lord Enel, had agreed to lay their lives for their god but they still hesitated being a prey to the priest of iron's words.
Standing just beside Ohm were the triplets—Hotori, Kotori, and Satori. The former two wore determined expressions, mind set on the winning prize, but Satori's hands were trembling slightly at his sides. The last battle, his defeat, his wounds, everything was hurting and haunting him. The sharp memories of his humiliation at the hands of his previous opponents was worse. He swallowed hard, not wanting to be in the fight, which the green haired swordsman was once again fighting. He could already see the swordsman ignoring him, not even giving him a stray look. And why would he? Satori could clearly see that he looked far better than him. His wounds seemed as if they weren't even existing while his own throbbed in shame and pain.
On the right side of the battlefield, Nika's team stood in a formation mirroring their opponents in a half circle but they were ready to take their own positions according to their needs. They were not fighting because of some blind devotion. No, they were fighting for themselves, with resolve for strength, survival or their land. Some of them were looking forward to the fight while some like Nami, Usopp and the giant South Bird were not. But yet the latter still stood with determination even if fear seemed to hold their hearts in its cold hands.
Robin seemed to be the most disinterested person on the battlefield, looking indifferent. She was standing slightly apart from the rest, her sharp eyes scanning the battlefield with analytical precision. She wasn't here to fight. She didn't want to fight. Not yet. She wanted to venture out more, find the depths of history hidden in the clouds and the giant belfry. Yet, she was here. Here to give a hand to her savior and the guide to the truth.
"I'll leave the fighting to you guys." Robin murmured, more to herself than anyone else, knowing that she would give a hand if required. But right now, she was more interested in the ruins surrounding them. So much history lay beneath their feet, waiting to be uncovered, yet here they were, fighting over a false god's dominion. It was almost amusing.
On the far right, Braham, a fierce Shandorian warrior, scowled as he ignored the woman and locked his gaze onto Ohm. He had heard the man's sermon, his so-called philosophy of death as salvation and it sickened him to the core. He had seen too much suffering, too much blood spilled under Enel's rule, to tolerate such nonsense.
"You're full of yourself." Braham spat, stepping forward. His twin pistols gleamed in the light, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. "Talking about salvation like you're some kind of god. I'll make you regret that arrogance."
Ohm's lips twitched in the barest hint of a smile. "You misunderstood, warrior. I do not seek to play god. I merely seek to free those who suffer."
"Tch, yeah, well, I'm about to make you suffer instead."
Gan Fall, mounted atop Pierre, gave the battlefield a cursory glance before taking to their skies. There, high above the battlefield, he and Pierre would have the greatest advantage. The old knight knew the importance of mobility in a fight like this, and he wasn't about to make the mistake of staying grounded when the battlefield was so treacherous.
And then there was Zoro.
The swordsman stepped forward with deliberate confidence, his three swords resting in their sheaths, waiting to be drawn. A shadow of a smirk crossed his lips as his eyes scanned the battlefield. He was searching—for the strongest. And he found him in Ohm.
"You," Zoro said, jerking his chin toward the priest. "You're the toughest one here. That means I'm taking you down."
Ohm barely reacted, as though the declaration was a mild inconvenience. But before he could respond, another voice cut in.
"No, you're not," Braham interjected, stepping beside Zoro, his arms crossed over his chest. "That one's mine."
Zoro scoffed. "You're joking, right? I saw him first."
"I don't care. He's mine."
Nami groaned as she and Usopp exchanged knowing looks. "Oh great," She muttered. "This is just like Sanji and Zoro. We don't need two idiots arguing in the middle of a battlefield."
Usopp sighed. "Yeah, but at least this time, maybe they'll kill each other before the real fight starts."
.
Enel sat atop his throne, high above the battlefield with his arms draped over the armrests and his fingers tapping in an impatient, erratic rhythm. Although his face was an impassive mask trying to hide the storm of emotions within him, the tightness around his eyes were betraying his irritation. He was hating how the battle was going on even though he had planned it all. But it was a means to amuse himself while he waited for the Ark Maxim to be completed. He had thought it would be enjoyable to see the insects die one by one before he massacred them with his divine punishment and erased this land from existence.
But Nika disrupted it all.
This was meant to be a simple hunt where he would have let his priests cleanse the land of Skypiea by wiping out the Shandorians first with the Strawhats who had dared to enter in his domains without paying the proper price. And after that, he would have wiped out every soul in this wretched land of clouds, letting the clouds return back to their natural form, before ascending to his rightful throne above the clouds. After all, he has no use for this land nor the worms that crawl upon it. But now? Now, things had spiraled beyond his expectations.
The challenge was still happening, still following the rules he had set but it felt wrong. It felt infuriating.
Enel hated it.
His golden staff twitched in his grasp as his gaze burned into the battlefield below. His fighters stood strong, waiting for the command to begin, but already, the sight of Nika's chosen warriors unsettled him. They should be scared and cowering and begging for their lives. They should be broken beneath the weight of their own fear. Instead, they stood firm, some shaken, yes, but determined. They weren't supposed to be like this.
But what Enel hated most—what set his nerves alight worse than any of his own lightning—was him.
Nika.
The kami sat comfortably on his floating cloud of his own making, watching the battlefield with a giddy grin, his body alight with mirth. His presence itself was infectious, his laughter ringing through the skies, a melody that set Enel on edge. Enel hated it. Every beat of Nika's drums made Enel skin crawl. But the worst part? The absolute worst part?
Those eyes.
Red-blue, piercing, knowing. They saw through him. They didn't just look at him; they read him, peeled away his facade, as if unravelling every thought buried beneath his godly arrogance. Enel loathed it. He despised the feeling of helplessness that crept into his bones every time their gazes met. It was as if he had been stripped bare before a child—a mere twelve year old kid!—and he could do nothing to stop it. It made him feel powerless, a sensation he had long since deemed impossible for a being of his caliber.
His grip on his staff tightened. He needed that laughter to stop. He needed that carefree smile to shatter. He needed to see fear in Nika's eyes, to watch his so-called friends be crushed into dust. That was why he had chosen his strongest warriors. That was why this round was going to be a bloodbath. He wanted to see them torn apart, ripped to shreds, their pathetic hope crushed beneath the heel of his power. Only then would he feel satisfied.
But then it happened again. A fleeting moment, an accident, yet it sent a spark of fury through him—his eyes met Nika's once more.
And the kid was smiling.
Not a cruel smile. Not a mocking one. No, it was giddy, cheerful, warm. It was as if he had been caught in the middle of a grand adventure and was simply thrilled to be a part of it. Nika rocked back on his cloud, drumming a light beat against his thighs, his voice as bouncy as ever.
"Alright, Enel!" Nika called, his grin widening. "Round two's ready to start!"
Enel nearly cracked his staff in half.
He hated it. Hated the bounce in his voice. Hated the way he was looking at him, so casually, as if he wasn't the god of this land. As if he wasn't someone to be feared. As if Nika wasn't even taking this seriously.
But Enel could do nothing.
His fingers curled, a spark of electricity crackling at his fingertips. He willed the lightning to strike, to remind them all who truly ruled this sky. And yet, the first bolt fizzled out before it reached the ground. His breath hitched, fury searing through his veins. Again, he tried, but the bolt merely flickered, dissipating into the air like mist before dawn.
His teeth clenched. 'Again.' He commanded his powers to obey him. This time, the lightning struck—but not where he willed it. Instead of hitting Nika, instead of igniting fear in his enemies, the bolt tore through the very center of the battlefield, a meaningless display of power.
The fight had begun.
And Enel was already hating it all.