Gaius stood still, his vambrace glinting faintly in the jungle's dim light. His face was chiseled, with a strong jawline and a nose that had been broken more than once in the arena. His skin, weathered and tanned from years spent under the harsh sun, had a roughness to it. His eyes, a piercing shade of brown, held the sharpness of a seasoned fighter, constantly scanning for danger.
The jungle was quiet for now, but Gaius didn't trust the silence. It felt like the calm before the storm, the kind he'd known all too well in the arena. He'd already watched others be torn apart by these strange creatures just moments earlier, their screams cut short in the thick air of the jungle. He tried to think through it—tried to come up with clever strategies—but he found none other than to punch his way out of it.
No time for thinking. Only fighting.
His body tensed, muscles coiling, ready for whatever might come next. He glanced over his shoulder at the group of strangers—strange clothing, strange skin—but he couldn't afford to care. They were looking to him for guidance. Some with hope in their eyes. He'd seen that look too many times before in the arena, but this time, it meant something different.
He didn't have a weapon, but he wasn't helpless. Not with the armor still on him. His vambrace, the bronze armguard, was tight around his forearm, but he turned it around and pulled it higher, adjusting it so it jutted out from his knuckles. With the edge now angled upward, it formed a makeshift blade—a deadly edge for pummeling, cutting, whatever he needed.
Then, the screech.
It tore through the air, loud and jarring. Gaius lifted his head just in time to see the first of the flying creatures dive toward him. It moved fast, its wings cutting through the thick air with ease, a predator on the hunt. He didn't hesitate.
With a grunt, Gaius moved forward, his improvised weapon raised. He swung at the creature's coming form, his armored fist meeting it in midair. The impact sent a shock through his arm, but the creature staggered, its wings flapping wildly as it was knocked off course.
It wasn't enough to stop it.
The beast righted itself and lunged again, talons aimed for his throat. Gaius sidestepped, dodging just in time, and swung his forearm up with brutal force. His vambrace caught the beast in its side, cutting through its leathery hide with a sickening crack. The creature screeched in pain, its body thrashing, but Gaius was already moving again—determined to finish it before it could recover.
Gaius threw himself over the creature, not giving it any room to escape. His light armor was no protection from the ferocity of the beast's talons and beak. Each strike cut through his skin, deep lacerations that sent fresh blood pouring down his limbs. The pain was intense, but it didn't matter.
His fist met its skull with brutal force, again and again, each blow a savage punctuation of survival. His vision blurred from the blood loss, his breath ragged, but he refused to stop, refused to let it take him down. The creature thrashed beneath him, its wings beating violently, talons tearing at his sides. But Gaius kept on, the adrenaline fueling him, ignoring the pain, ignoring the blood soaking through his armor.
It felt like an eternity, like a battle he could never win. But finally, the creature's movements slowed. Its wings beat less frantically, its talons twitching weakly. Gaius didn't let up until, with a final, exhausted gasp, the creature went limp beneath him.
Then a message came like a sudden burst of clarity amidst the fog of his exhaustion. As his mind swam in a haze of pain and blood, the words echoed inside his skull, cutting through the fatigue.
"You've absorbed another creature's Aether. You've grown stronger. 10 points have been allocated."
The voice was cold, but its effect was immediate. A surge of energy rippled through him, like a second wind flooding his body. His legs, trembling from the strain, steadied themselves as though they had just been reinvigorated. The sharpness of the pain dulled for a brief moment, replaced by a rush of awareness, a subtle yet undeniable increase in strength.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the tightness of his muscles ease just enough for his grip to tighten around the vambrace. The weight of the armor, which had felt like a prison moments ago, suddenly seemed less burdensome, more like a shield—like something he could wield with purpose once more. His breath, ragged and strained, found a rhythm again, the panic in his chest quieting.
It was just a fleeting moment, a small gift from whatever force had orchestrated this strange new world. Despite the brief surge of vitality, a sour taste lingered in his mouth, the familiar twinge of discomfort gnawing at him. It reminded him of his previous masters, offering morsels of reward to keep him in line, to watch him fight for their amusement like a trained animal. The feeling was not entirely different—an illusion of power, a way to make him dance at their whim.
"Stay focused," he muttered through gritted teeth, lifting his gaze to scan his surroundings. The others were still standing behind him, staring at him with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. They were alive. But it wasn't over. Not yet.
The jungle stretched out before him, silent now. The screeching, the rustling, everything had gone quiet again. Too quiet. The only sounds left were his ragged breaths and the occasional, distant call of something he didn't want to face. He didn't trust this silence. He knew better.
"Move," he said, his voice low but firm, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Now."
They all nodded their heads vigoursly, a woman motioning for the others to follow. They didn't question him; they couldn't afford to. Despite his skepticism about their combat abilities, he couldn't deny the odd reassurance that came with their numbers. Back in the Colosseum, during group battles, there was a certain rhythm to it, a way the chaos seemed more manageable when others fought alongside him. Even if it was fleeting, even if the trust wasn't truly there, there was something about facing the bloodshed with others that made the fight feel more… survivable.
He took a slow step forward, his legs protesting with every movement, but he pushed through. The armor felt heavier than before, each step a challenge, but his grip on the vambrace was firm. He didn't need a sword. Not yet. The beast's blood still stained his hands, but that wouldn't stop him.
Another screech. It was closer this time.
Gaius's heart skipped a beat. The creatures were coming back. He couldn't stay in one place.
"Keep moving!" he shouted, his voice louder this time, urgent. "Don't stop! Don't look back!"
The others scrambled to keep up, their footsteps quick and clumsy in the thick underbrush. Gaius didn't bother looking to see if they were following. His eyes were locked on the sky, scanning for any sign of the creatures. The air around them grew still once again, but there was something in the air—something waiting. He could feel it, like the jungle itself was holding its breath.
And then it came.
A flash of movement above. The shriek. The flap of wings.
The beast dove toward them from above, its wings cutting through the air with a deafening roar. Gaius didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his vambrace raised, aiming for the creature's throat. His hand connected with its wing, the sharp edge of the armor scraping against its thick hide, but the creature barely faltered. It was strong.
With a roar, the beast lunged toward him once more, but Gaius was ready this time. He sidestepped. His elbow slammed into the creature's side, pushing the beast off-balance. It staggered, wings flapping wildly to regain control, but Gaius didn't stop. He pushed forward, his hand coming down onto its throat with all the strength he had left, driving the sharp edge of his vambrace into its flesh.
The beast screeched again, its talons raking across Gaius's chest, leaving deep cuts that bled freely. But he didn't relent. He twisted the vambrace further into its throat, tightening his grip with everything he could muster. The beast bucked and writhed beneath him, its wings beating the air in desperation, but Gaius held fast. With a final, guttural cry, the creature went still.
He collapsed onto its body, breath ragged and uneven, his vision blurring as the world around him spun. Blood pooled beneath him, his own and the creature's, a warm mixture that stained the ground. His body screamed for rest, but he couldn't afford it.
He had won. But barely.
The last thing he noticed before his vision faded was the four strangers, their faces twisted with concern, rushing to his side. And the whisper of the cold voice resounding in his mind
"You've absorbed another creature's Aether. You've grown stronger. 10 points have been allocated."