A few hours later…
Riven walked into the arena with a weird mix of fear and confidence. But his face? Total coping.
He spun his gun, trying to seem cool — ready for whatever happened next.
Judge (shouting): "A fight to the death!"
The crowd went wild.
Judge: "On the right side, we have Wex — the water bender!"
A tall figure emerged, water spiraling around his arms, calm and dangerous.
Judge: "And on the left — Riven, the unlucky gambler!"
The cheers got quiet. People didn't know what to expect.
Judge: "1! 2! 3! GO!"
Wex instantly launched forward, sending rippling waves flying straight at Riven.
[NEW GOPT DETECTED: 5% CHANCE THE BULLET FREEZES ANY LIQUID IT TOUCHES]
Riven glanced at the Gopt that appeared mid-fight. He didn't have time to think. He fired.
The bullet shot into the air — and missed. It didn't even touch the water.
The next second, the wave slammed into Riven, launching him back. He crashed into the wall hard, air knocked out of him by the pressure.
Groaning, he forced himself up, barely keeping his balance.
Riven (muttering): "Only two bullets left before I have to reload."
He fired twice in a row.
Bang! Bang!
The first bullet hit. The second missed.
Wex clutched his chest, blood starting to stain his shirt.
Wex (angrily): "You'll pay for that, asshole."
Riven (dryly): "Such a generic line."
Wex threw another wave in the air, this one bigger. Riven ducked and rolled, reloading fast. He fired again — it missed.
[NEW GOPT DETECTED: 2% CHANCE AN EXPLOSION OCCURS ON SHOT]
Riven kept firing. One bullet exploded, blasting water away. Another froze the wave mid-air. Another missed completely.
But then — bang — a direct hit.
The bullet drilled into Wex's chest again. He stumbled backward, coughing blood.
His heart had been hit.
Wex dropped to one knee, eyes wide, struggling to stay conscious.
Wex was dead.
Judge:We have a winner!
As Riven walked away from the arena, the crowd roared behind him. Victory.
He slipped into the break room, still catching his breath, and sank into a chair. Another fighter was already sitting across from him.
The man cleared his throat.
"Congrats."
"Thanks, I guess," Riven replied, still spinning his gun slowly in his hand.
The man leaned forward.
"That technique you used… what was that? Your gun did some crazy stuff."
"It's called Gopts," Riven said casually. "Like… random effects. One time, I had a 2% chance of making an explosion when I shoot."
"Whoa," the man said. "That's actually kind of cool. What's your name again? Riven, right? The judge mentioned it."
"Yeah. What about you?"
The man gave a small grin.
"Nox. I can control shadows."
"Nice. That's cool, I guess."
They sat in silence for a few moments. Then the sound of the announcer echoed in the distance — the next round was starting.
Nox stood up, adjusting his gloves.
"See you after I win this match."
Riven sat alone in the break room, the muffled roar of the crowd echoing through the walls.
He could hear the judge's voice starting the next match. Cheers erupted again, but his focus was elsewhere.
Maybe I can trade Gopts…
The ones I don't need — I could swap them for money or better ones.
That could actually work… but where would I even find a place like that?
His thoughts kept spiraling, ideas stacking on top of each other.
He didn't notice how long he was sitting there until another wave of cheering snapped him back.
He stood up, curiosity pulling him toward the arena window.
Down below, Nox stood tall, and in front of him, a figure lay motionless on the ground.
Blood stained Nox's hands.
The judge raised his hand.
Judge: "WINNER IS NOX!"
The crowd exploded into cheers once more.
Moments later, Nox stepped back into the break room, calm and quiet as ever.
Nox: "I won the match."
Riven: "Who were you fighting?"
Nox: "Some swordsman named Illion."
Riven: "Alright."
Riven leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
Sleep pulled him under — fast and heavy — but even in sleep, the gears in his head kept turning.