The water whip soldier's face twisted in fear, sweat dripping down his temple. He staggered back, unable to move, every step taken with hesitation, as if the world around him had become a prison.
Ex's smile was cold—too cold. His voice, when it finally came, was barely a whisper, yet it carried weight far beyond words, each syllable embedding itself like a knife into their thoughts.
"Do you think you'll survive this? Think about it," Ex said, his voice so smooth, so hypnotic, it seemed to pull them into a trance. "You're standing here, trembling, hoping for a miracle. But you know as well as I do… this is your only way out."
The words hung in the air, thick, suffocating. He let them linger in their minds, crawling inside, pushing them deeper into that pit of dread. His eyes gleamed—shifting from the broken red to an abyssal black. A slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his face as he stood in front of the moon, his silhouette casting an unnatural shadow against the night.
The shadows began to crawl up his arm, creeping like tendrils, curling around his fingers and wrists. The air around him seemed to darken, thickening with an oppressive weight. Sin Perception had deactivated, but it didn't matter. The shadows were alive, feeding off the fear, taking control. They surged forward, binding him, but Ex smiled—a devil's grin—as he watched the woman falter in her thoughts.
"What about your family?" Ex's voice was softer now, almost a caress, but it hit her harder than any blow could. "What about your friends? Are they worth dying for? Can you look them in the eye when you fail them? When you let them all die for nothing?" He stepped forward slowly, his voice a velvet whisper in the chaos. "What makes you deserve to live?"
The female commander's body trembled. Her hand, still clenched around the sonic weapon, shook violently, as if the weight of Ex's words were crushing her from the inside out.
"Don't listen to him," she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice strained but resolute. "We can still win this. You can still fight."
But her words were hollow, a feeble attempt to hold onto the last threads of resolve. Ex's gaze hardened.
The water whip soldier turned, his eyes wide with panic. The fear was palpable, radiating off him like heat from a fire. His face twisted in terror, sweat pouring down in thick rivulets as he looked between his commander and Ex, caught in an invisible snare.
His breath came faster now, ragged, as if every inhale was his last. The sound of his heartbeat was deafening in his own ears. And yet, despite every instinct screaming at him to run, his legs The water whip soldier's face twisted in fear, sweat dripping down his temple. He staggered back, unable to move, every step taken with hesitation, as if the world around him had become a prison.
Ex's smile was cold—too cold. His voice, when it finally came, was barely a whisper, yet it carried weight far beyond words, each syllable embedding itself like a knife into their thoughts.
"Do you think you'll survive this? Think about it," Ex said, his voice so smooth, so hypnotic, it seemed to pull them into a trance. "You're standing here, trembling, hoping for a miracle. But you know as well as I do… this is your only way out."
The words hung in the air, thick, suffocating. He let them linger in their minds, crawling inside, pushing them deeper into that pit of dread. His eyes gleamed—shifting from the broken red to an abyssal black. A slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his face as he stood in front of the moon, his silhouette casting an unnatural shadow against the night.
The shadows began to crawl up his arm, creeping like tendrils, curling around his fingers and wrists. The air around him seemed to darken, thickening with an oppressive weight. Sin Perception had deactivated, but it didn't matter. The shadows were alive, feeding off the fear, taking control. They surged forward, binding him, but Ex smiled—a devil's grin—as he watched the woman falter in her thoughts.
"What about your family?" Ex's voice was softer now, almost a caress, but it hit her harder than any blow could. "What about your friends? Are they worth dying for? Can you look them in the eye when you fail them? When you let them all die for nothing?" He stepped forward slowly, his voice a velvet whisper in the chaos. "What makes you deserve to live?"
The female commander's body trembled. Her hand, still clenched around the sonic weapon, shook violently, as if the weight of Ex's words were crushing her from the inside out.
"Don't listen to him," she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice strained but resolute. "We can still win this. You can still fight."
But her words were hollow, a feeble attempt to hold onto the last threads of resolve. Ex's gaze hardened.
The water whip soldier turned, his eyes wide with panic. The fear was palpable, radiating off him like heat from a fire. His face twisted in terror, sweat pouring down in thick rivulets as he looked between his commander and Ex, caught in an invisible snare.
His breath came faster now, ragged, as if every inhale was his last. The sound of his heartbeat was deafening in his own ears. And yet, despite every instinct screaming at him to run, his legs The water whip soldier's face twisted in fear, sweat dripping down his temple. He staggered back, unable to move, every step taken with hesitation, as if the world around him had become a prison.
Ex's smile was cold—too cold. His voice, when it finally came, was barely a whisper, yet it carried weight far beyond words, each syllable embedding itself like a knife into their thoughts.
"Do you think you'll survive this? Think about it," Ex said, his voice so smooth, so hypnotic, it seemed to pull them into a trance. "You're standing here, trembling, hoping for a miracle. But you know as well as I do… this is your only way out."
The words hung in the air, thick, suffocating. He let them linger in their minds, crawling inside, pushing them deeper into that pit of dread. His eyes gleamed—shifting from the broken red to an abyssal black. A slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his face as he stood in front of the moon, his silhouette casting an unnatural shadow against the night.
The shadows began to crawl up his arm, creeping like tendrils, curling around his fingers and wrists. The air around him seemed to darken, thickening with an oppressive weight. Sin Perception had deactivated, but it didn't matter. The shadows were alive, feeding off the fear, taking control. They surged forward, binding him, but Ex smiled—a devil's grin—as he watched the woman falter in her thoughts.
"What about your family?" Ex's voice was softer now, almost a caress, but it hit her harder than any blow could. "What about your friends? Are they worth dying for? Can you look them in the eye when you fail them? When you let them all die for nothing?" He stepped forward slowly, his voice a velvet whisper in the chaos. "What makes you deserve to live?"
The female commander's body trembled. Her hand, still clenched around the sonic weapon, shook violently, as if the weight of Ex's words were crushing her from the inside out.
"Don't listen to him," she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice strained but resolute. "We can still win this. You can still fight."
But her words were hollow, a feeble attempt to hold onto the last threads of resolve. Ex's gaze hardened.
The water whip soldier turned, his eyes wide with panic. The fear was palpable, radiating off him like heat from a fire. His face twisted in terror, sweat pouring down in thick rivulets as he looked between his commander and Ex, caught in an invisible snare.
His breath came faster now, ragged, as if every inhale was his last. The sound of his heartbeat was deafening in his own ears. And yet, despite every instinct screaming at him to run, his legs
He charged.
The female commander shouted. "No! Don't! You—"
Her words faltered, the weight of her desperation sinking deeper into her chest. She reached out for him, but it was too late. The water whip soldier was already mid-sprint, his weapon coiling violently through the air, lashing with brutal force toward the woman he had sworn to protect, to fight for.
The commander took a step back, eyes wide, her grip on her sonic weapon tightening. She wanted to stop him, to command him to fight with her, to push him back into his senses—but as he advanced, her words lost power. Each plea felt weaker than the last, the soldier's growing fear eating away at the foundation of her resolve. The crackling tension in the air was palpable, suffocating her.
"You have to stop this!" she shouted, but her voice shook with doubt. "Please, we can still fight him together—please!"
The water whip soldier's eyes were frantic now, his face twisted in confusion. His body was moving without thought, instinct dragging him closer, the fear propelling him forward like a man on a path he couldn't escape. The air seemed to vibrate with his fear—his head was a mess, thoughts spinning in every direction, torn between Ex's commanding presence and his commander's pleas.
But the more the woman shouted, the more the words became a futile murmur in the wind, swallowed by the fear that Ex instilled in them both. The soldier's attack continued its trajectory, the whip slashing toward the commander.
And that was when her mind broke.
The realization came slowly at first—until it hit her like a freight train. She was no longer controlling anything. The soldier was beyond saving. The battle was lost. They were all lost.
A wave of cold fury surged through her—she had never felt this helpless, this small. The fear wasn't just in the water whip soldier now—it was in her, too. She tried to stop him with words, with commands, but now she could only scream in defiance.
"No!" she shouted, her voice raw and hoarse. "NO!"
Her power—her scream—broke free.
The sonic boom blasted from her mouth, a pulse of sound so powerful it ripped through the air, rupturing the ground beneath her feet. The force of the scream was almost visible, a shockwave that reverberated outward, sending trees trembling and stones rolling. It didn't just shake the earth—it shattered the soldier's very essence.
At point-blank range, the water whip soldier's face exploded with the sheer force of her scream. His skull imploded, his body crumpling to the ground with a sickening wet thud, the remnants of his head nothing but a twisted mess of blood and bone.
For a moment, everything was still.
The female commander, breathing heavily, stood frozen in the aftermath of her own devastation. The echoes of her scream bounced off the surrounding trees, fading slowly into the night. Her body was shaking, but her eyes—those eyes—looked hollow now. Empty.
Ex watched the scene unfold in front of him, his black eyes unwavering, studying her every move. His smile remained faint, almost appreciative of the chaos she'd unleashed in her final moments of desperation.
But it wasn't just the death of the water whip soldier that struck Ex; it was the moment of pure loss he had witnessed in her. The unraveling of a person. The crumbling of their will under the weight of their own fear.
Ex stepped forward, the shadows trailing behind him like a dark storm. His voice was low, yet it cut through the silence like a knife.
"You think you're done? That it's over?" Ex said, his words still carrying the same hypnotic weight. "You think your scream changes anything?"
The female commander lowered her head. The fight was gone from her now. Her only remaining strength was spent in that final, ear-shattering scream.
But Ex could see it in her eyes—she had broken.
She stood over the mangled corpse of the water whip soldier, his body twitching once before falling still forever.
Her chest heaved.
She didn't scream again.
She couldn't.
The commander just stared down, blood dripping from her lips, the weight of her own survival heavier than any weapon she had ever carried.
The silence was suffocating.
Then—footsteps.
Soft at first. Slow. Deliberate. Each one crunching the earth like a judge approaching the guilty.
She didn't look up.
She didn't have to.
She felt him—felt the presence of something ancient, something cruel, something beyond the comprehension of a mere soldier. Soel radiated from him in waves, flooding the space between them with such force that even the air seemed to retreat in fear.
The sound of his breathing was gone.
The wind was gone.
Only he remained.
Her lips parted to scream one last time—but no sound came. Her voice had been stolen, crushed under the weight of his aura. The very energy pulsing off of him silenced her body, paralyzed her will. It wasn't just fear—it was domination.
The shadows curled tighter around his arms like serpents, writhing in anticipation. His black eyes—soulless and endless—pierced her skull long before his blade ever did.
She raised her head, barely.
Just in time to see Ex standing in front of her, framed by the moonlight behind him—his silhouette pitch black, godless, untouchable.
He tilted his head, almost mockingly.
Then, with no hesitation, Ex stepped forward and drove the dagger into her eye.
The sound was wet and quiet—a final, intimate silence.
She didn't move. Not even once.
As the blade sank deep, Ex leaned in, his voice soft, sinister, curling around her fading consciousness like a whisper from the grave.
"Congratulations," he murmured, lips brushing her ear.
"You've won the tournament."
Then he let go.
Her body dropped in a heap beside the others, her victory worth nothing at all.
And Ex stood over them all, the forest dead quiet, the moon watching..
as the shadows danced around him, Ex knew that this was his world now. The fear, the power—it all bent to his will. Even in the face of death, even in the chaos, Ex was the one in control