The stillness didn't hold.
It never could—not with Wrath and Pride standing in the same room, trying not to remember the last time they met.
Lio didn't speak first. Of course he didn't. He let the silence linger, let the pressure build like a faultline waiting for the crack. He watched Brix from the corner of his eye, calculating the tension in his stance, the shift of weight in his feet.
Brix noticed.
"Don't act like we're strangers," he said.
His voice was low. Too calm. The kind of calm that only came when fire was being chained in real time.
Lio gave a dry chuckle. "I wasn't sure you'd remember."
"Oh, I remember. I remember your smug little smirk while I was getting dragged out of the dueling pit."
"You did throw a fireball at the judge."
Brix's eyes narrowed. "I missed on purpose."
"And still lost," Lio said mildly.
[System Alert: Sin Resonance Detected – PRIDE and WRATH in proximity. Tempered Control engaged.]
[Reminder: Host Sleep Zone – Damage beyond 6% will trigger wake threshold.]
Neither of them moved for a second.
Then—
Brix stepped forward.
Not fast.
Just far enough to make the floor groan beneath his heel. His fists stayed low, but the heat was already rising off him in waves.
"I'm not the same as before," he said. "Touch me now and your blade melts before it clears the scabbard."
"I believe you," Lio replied.
Then he smiled.
"But I never needed a blade to beat you."
They moved at the same time.
No warcry. No drawn weapons. No shouted names.
Just impact.
Brix's foot shattered the floor tile as he lunged, fist first. The heat distorted the air, and for a moment it looked like his arm was made of flame. Lio ducked under the swing, coat fluttering like ink in water, and jabbed a palm into Brix's ribs.
The sound was dull—like hitting stone.
Brix didn't even flinch.
Too late, Lio realized. *He's not just stronger—he's armored.
Brix turned on a pivot, backhanded, and the follow-through cracked the side of Lio's temple. His warding runes flared, absorbing most of it, but he still stumbled.
[Passive Skill: Scorchfield Tier I – Field Pressure Increased by 30%][Target Effect: Reaction Delay – 0.3s induced]
Lio recovered quickly, stepping back, arms raised.
But his pride wouldn't let him retreat.
He came in again—lower this time, sweeping for Brix's legs. Brix jumped, twisted midair, landed with one hand braced on a scroll rack.
Then he launched off it like a missile.
Lio saw the punch coming.
He couldn't stop it.
Brix hit him square in the chest.
[System Safety Trigger: Impact Threshold Reached. Wake Warning – 6% Limit Imminent]
The room pulsed.
Scrolls trembled. Glyphs flickered. The ground hissed under Brix's feet.
Kairon stirred.
Both fighters froze.
Brix stepped back, breathing hard.
His flames dimmed.
He looked down at Lio—who was already rising, jaw bruised but posture intact.
"Still think I'm not worth remembering?" Brix said.
Lio wiped a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth.
Then smiled.
"On the contrary," he said. "I think about that dueling pit every day."
They stood in silence again.
This time, not out of restraint.
Out of respect.
[System Sync Log: Dual Sin Recognition – PRIDE and WRATH Balanced. Conflict Suspended.]
[Loyalty Conflict: Defused. Zone Stability Maintained.]
They looked at Kairon—still sleeping, still unaware.
And for the first time since entering the dome, both understood:
He hadn't just made them stronger.
He had changed why they fought.