Scene: A dimly lit motel room – Late Evening
The room is filled with the dim, flickering light of a single lamp, casting shadows on the cheap furniture and peeling wallpaper. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, smoke, and something else more primal. In the corner of the room, the large bed creaks slightly as Skyen Novac leans back, his muscular frame half-reclined, a half-burned cigarette dangling between his lips. Smoke curls lazily upward as his fingers rest on the edge of the mattress, still holding the girl who lies beside him, her soft breathing mixing with the quiet hum of the room.
His mind isn't here, though. His thoughts are far from the worn motel room and the body next to him. Instead, he's lost in the haze of the upcoming Gunxam Exam, replaying strategies, rivalries, and the stakes of what's to come. He exhales slowly, the smoke pouring from his lips like a sigh as he stares at the cracked ceiling, his mind racing.
Skyen: (thinking to himself, a voice in his head steady and reflective) "Another one down. But it's never enough, is it? Never enough to get rid of the weight. No matter how many of these nights I spend, it all comes back to the same thing. The Gunxam. And James..."
The girl beside him stirs, rolling over slightly, but Skyen pays her no attention. She's not why he's here. She's just a distraction, something to dull the edges of the pressure that's been building inside him for weeks. His bare chest rises and falls slowly as he takes another long drag from the cigarette, the tip glowing in the dim light.
He thinks about his competitors—those who will be standing across from him in the arena. James Igedvon. The name alone sends a rush of frustration through him. Skyen clenches his jaw slightly, his hand flexing as though it holds the hilt of a sword rather than a cigarette.
Skyen: (thinking, his mind sharp) "James... that smug bastard. Everyone talks about him like he's the chosen one, the prodigy. But I know better. He's not unbeatable. And when the time comes, I'll show everyone that Novac blood is stronger than anything the Igedvon can throw at us."
He smirks slightly, though the smile doesn't reach his eyes. His mind flickers to the other contenders, like Linda, his cousin, who's always been unpredictable, ruthless, and entirely too confident for her own good. Then there's Charles, the stoic warrior who's too focused on discipline for Skyen's taste. And of course, there's Suzy—another Novac, but one who's never truly cared for the same ambitions that drive Skyen.
His thoughts are interrupted as the girl beside him stirs again, this time sitting up and reaching for her clothes, scattered carelessly across the floor. She moves quietly, aware that Skyen is no longer paying attention to her. She doesn't seem to mind. She knew what this was, what it always was with him.
Skyen watches her for a moment, his eyes half-lidded as he takes another drag of his cigarette. He watches the smoke spiral upward before exhaling again, the corner of his mouth twitching in a hint of amusement.
Skyen: (speaking aloud this time, voice low and lazy) "You don't have to rush off, you know. I'm not going anywhere. We only fucked twice and the whole night is here for us."
The girl glances over her shoulder at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Girl: (lightly, without much care) "I've got somewhere to be. But thanks for the offer."
Skyen doesn't respond, just watches her silently as she finishes getting dressed. As she pulls on her jacket, she pauses for a moment, her hand lingering on the door handle.
Girl: (casually, glancing back at him) "You look like you've got a lot on your mind. Maybe lighten up a little? Not everything has to be about fighting and strategy, you know."
Skyen smirks again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he flicks the ash from his cigarette.
Skyen: (with a half-smile, but darkly amused) "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."
She rolls her eyes, chuckling softly before turning the handle and stepping out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her. Skyen's smirk fades as soon as she's gone, the silence of the room closing in around him once again. He stubs out the cigarette on the nightstand beside him, crushing the glowing ember with a flick of his wrist.
Now alone, Skyen stares at the ceiling once more, his thoughts returning to the Gunxam. His heart beats a little faster as his mind replays the scenarios he'll face. He knows the stakes are higher than ever this year. The new rules, and the brutality—play into his strengths, but it also means that the weakest among them will be eliminated quickly. And not just eliminated—they'll be crushed, forgotten.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, stretching his arms above his head. His muscles ache from days of training, but he welcomes the pain. It sharpens his focus, reminding him of what he's fighting for. He strides over to the window, looking out at the darkened streets below, his reflection barely visible in the dirty glass.
Skyen: (thinking, voice steady and confident) "It's coming. And when it does, I'll be ready. James might think he's got this locked down, but I've got something he doesn't—something he'll never see coming."
He reaches for his coat, pulling it on with a casual grace. The Gunxam is all anyone can think about these days, but for Skyen, it's not just an exam. It's a chance to prove once and for all that he's more than just a name, more than just a Novac. He's going to show the world what true strength looks like.
And when it's over, no one will be talking about James Igedvon anymore.
Scene: Smoke drifts lazily out of the window as Skyen steps into the night, leaving the motel behind, his mind already on the battlefield ahead.
Scene: The Royal Bathhouse - Late Night
The room is quiet, save for the gentle ripple of water. Warm steam rises lazily from the large bath, curling upward in soft wisps, fogging the edges of the marble-tiled walls. James Igedvon sits submerged in the hot water, his arms resting on the edges of the bath. The soft sound of dripping water echoes faintly from the stone walls, creating a serene and calming atmosphere around him.
SFX: Gentle splash of water as James shifts slightly in the bath. The soft drip of condensation fell from the ceiling. The faint hiss of steam rose from the water.
The heat from the bath seeps into his muscles, easing the tension from days of preparation for the Gunxam. The dim glow of the bathhouse's lanterns reflects off the surface of the water, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room. James closes his eyes for a moment, letting his mind wander as he sinks deeper into the warm water.
SFX: Subtle movement of water as James leans back, the faint echo of distant dripping. A soft exhale of breath as he relaxes.
His mind, however, isn't at ease. Even in the quiet solitude of the bathhouse, James' thoughts are restless. The upcoming Gunxam Exam looms in the back of his mind, and despite his calm exterior, he's already calculating every possible outcome. He knows he's expected to win—Igedvon's blood practically guarantees it. But it's not the victory that occupies his thoughts. It's the others.
SFX: Soft swish of water as James slowly runs a hand through the surface, the sound of water trickling between his fingers.
The water swirls gently as James adjusts his position, resting his head against the cool marble edge of the bath. His eyes remain closed, but his mind is sharp, analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of each of his competitors.
SFX: Soft trickling of water against stone. A deep inhale as steam fills the air.
The soft sound of water echoes again as James sits up slightly, his dark hair slicked back from the moisture. His eyes open, cold and calculating, as his mind sharpens its focus.
SFX: Water trickles down his arms as he moves, the faint sound of water splashing against the edges of the bath.
His breath steadies and the warmth of the bath almost seems to intensify as his resolve hardens. The sound of water gently moving fills the room once more as James leans back, letting the heat seep back into his muscles. For now, he allows himself this brief moment of calm before the storm.
SFX: Soft exhale, the subtle splash of water settling around him, the gentle crackle of steam rising in the background.
James: (thinking, his voice quiet and resolute) "Let them underestimate me. It'll make their defeat all the more satisfying."
As the steam swirls around him, James closes his eyes again, the calmness of the bathhouse a stark contrast to the thoughts of dominance and strategy playing out in his mind. He is ready. And when the time comes, he will remind everyone why the Igedvon name is feared.
SFX: The faint, rhythmic sound of dripping water, the soft movement of the bath's surface. A final, quiet exhale from James as the scene fades to silence.