The last echoes of applause faded from the Colosseum of the Sky as Atenzi and Báthory retreated to their private box.
The air still hummed with residual energy from Kukai and Robespierre's metaphysical clash, causing the fine hairs on Atenzi's arms to stand on end.
Báthory gracefully lowered herself onto a plush crimson chaise lounge, her pale fingers tracing abstract patterns on the velvet fabric. "Well, my champion," she purred, her eyes gleaming in the dim light, "what did you make of that... spectacle?"
Atenzi remained standing, his gaze fixed on the arena below.
The hybrid landscape of temple grounds and Parisian streets was already beginning to fade, reality reasserting itself in the wake of the cosmic battle.
"Impressive," he admitted, his voice low and thoughtful. "The sheer scale of it, the way they manipulated reality itself..." He trailed off, a small frown creasing his brow.
