A lone gust of wind carried the scent of blood and dust across the vast, barren land. The sky burned with the hues of twilight, casting long, crimson shadows over the cracked earth. Towering plateaus loomed in the distance, silent witnesses to the countless battles fought here. This land had no name, only purpose—it was where warriors came to decide their fate.
Square walked with a lazy stride, hands resting on the belt that held his Colt pistol and vintage rifle slung across his back. His spurs jingled with each step, the sound oddly out of place in the eerie silence. His rugged face bore a scar running from his left jaw to his hairline, a reminder of battles long past. Despite the tension in the air, his lips curled into a cocky grin.
From the opposite direction, Circle approached with slow, deliberate steps. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable beneath his long, dark hair. His left eye was shut, the scar across it a brutal mark of his past, and his fitted, dark combat attire made him look more like a shadow than a man. Unlike Square, there was no humor in his gaze—only purpose.
They stopped, standing few feet apart, the space between them heavy with unspoken words.
Square was the first to break the silence.
"Been a while, huh?" he said, tilting his hat back. His tone was light, almost teasing. "Didn't think I'd see ya again like this."
Circle said nothing. His eye flicked up, taking in Square's relaxed stance, the way his fingers lingered near his gun. A breeze stirred the dust between them.
Square exhaled dramatically. "You always were the quiet type. Makes it hard to tell if you're mad at me or just bein' your usual broody self." He grinned, but his fingers tensed on his belt.
Circle finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "We are not here to talk."
Square clicked his tongue. "Yeah, yeah. Straight to business. Just thought, y'know, we could catch up before we try to kill each other." He rolled his shoulders, stretching lazily. "You look good, by the way. The Scar? Real mysterious. Bet the ladies love it."
Circle's expression remained cold, but a flicker of something—annoyance, maybe—crossed his face. He shifted his stance slightly, his body coiled like a spring.
Square sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, alright. Let's get to it, then."
His hand blurred as he drew his Colt—a perfect, fluid motion. The moment the gun cleared the holster, Circle was already moving. He dashed forward, dodging to the side just as Square fired the first shot. The bullet whizzed past, kicking up red dust as Circle closed the distance.
Square had barely a second to react before Circle's fist came flying towards his face. He barely dodged, twisting his body and rolling backward.
"Damn, you got faster," Square muttered, pushing himself to his feet.
Circle didn't answer. Instead, he rushed forward again, his movements seamless, calculated. Square swung his rifle from his back, aiming to block the next strike, but Circle feinted, twisting mid-air and delivering a kick to Square's side.
Square grunted, skidding back a few feet. His grip tightened on the rifle. "Alright, I see how it is," he murmured, eyes glinting. "No holdin' back, then."
He raised the rifle just as Circle launched at him again. The battle had begun.
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To Be Continued..