September 20, 4021 09:00 [Matriarch 04- Sun Rock]

The remaining candidates gathered once more in the announcer’s booth early the next morning. The room went silent as Kaluza reentered. All eyes turned to Indra who looked unbothered by his appearance. The night before had given him clarity—a chance to clear his mind, and he had Prasanna to thank for it. He gave her a warm smile, which she returned. He would accept any challenge thrown at him. They would all meet on the battlefield one way or another.

“You and me! Next match!” Kaluza exclaimed the moment he laid eyes on Indra.

“How’s your leg?” Indra asked, pointing to Kaluza’s thigh, wrapped generously in gauze.

“I’ll live,” he grumbled.

Kaluza opened his mouth to speak again, but he was cut off by Grisha. She held up a hand to halt any further interruptions to her announcements. She motioned for their attention, clearing her throat.

“Congrats on making it to the second round, all of you. I hope you’ve had some much-needed rest and recuperation before returning here.”

Indra continued to stare at Kaluza’s injury, furrowing his brow. “How are the others going to heal in time for deployment? We only have a few weeks.”

Grisha sighed as if meaning to get to that topic at some point. She procured a box, much like the one Stanley had given Indra, although this one was white, marked with the emblem of a Vulture rather than the Chait crest.

“The Vultures came up with a new drug that utilizes an imbued healing factor. Otherwise, we wouldn't have allowed the matches to proceed like prior Hyena Succession Tournaments. We’d have kept the injuries to a minimum, like your first sparring session, since we have so little time,” Grisha answered. “He took one yesterday,” she indicated in Kaluza’s direction. “Unfortunately, they’re not as potent as yours. Chait still has one leg up on our R&D team apparently,” she laughed.

Grisha proceeded to explain the logistics of the second round, pairing the Homunculi up. “Indra, you'll be getting a bye this round. Prasanna and Kuvira, you'll be the first match of the second round, meaning Emil and Kaluza will be going next.”

“What?! I don't accept this! I should be fighting this bastard in the next round—”

“We could always disqualify you,” Grisha stated bluntly.

Kaluza quieted down, muttering to himself indignantly.

“One winner from the second round will face Indra in the semifinals while the other will get a bye to the finals. That's about it. From there we'll announce the Division Commanders based on your placement and assign you to your units,” she finished.

Kaluza huffed, taking a seat in a secluded corner. Prasanna and Kuvira glared at each other as they made their way to the elevator, separated by two Crows until they reached the field. Emil shot Indra an inquisitive glance to which Indra responded by shaking his head. When he had asked Prasanna about her issue with Kuvira he had been met with a refusal to disclose the reason, a deep resentment in her eyes. What had Kuvira done to invoke her ire? Indra wondered.

Grisha announced the fighters by the honorifics she had denoted for them, an undeniable glee in the inflection of her tone as she got ready to kick off the second round. Her gaze flitted to Tengri with a sly smile. Her colleague scowled at her, watching Kuvira with crossed arms.

“Let’s see what she can do,” he stated dryly.

Neither candidate’s focus wavered for a second. Indra could almost see sparks fly between their fierce gazes. Grisha signaled the start of the match with a loud “Begin!” and the field shattered. Islands of earth rose as Prasanna nullified the gravity in the area. Kuvira’s movements became sluggish and floaty as she attempted to orient herself upright.

Prasanna maintained a cold stare as she enclosed her fist. Clusters of rock accelerated, slamming into one another in quick succession as Kuvira barely managed to evade them by the skin of her teeth. She timed each attack, pushing off of nearby debris to avoid being crushed.

There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in Prasanna’s movements as she directed more land masses at Kuvira. She wasn’t just trying to win the match; she was trying to kill her opponent. Indra gripped the railing tightly as he watched with bated breath. He didn’t know who to cheer for, wanting neither to hurt the other too severely. No. He shook his head. Kuvira knew what she was doing…But so did Prasanna.

Grisha's words were almost incoherent as she screamed excitedly. “There it is folks! Prasanna’s new move: Aviary Zone! Designed specifically for troublesome little birdies. Can this bird fly away in time? Or will she be crushed by stone?”

Kuvira weaved through a sea of dirt and concrete as best as she could, but a stray rock clipped her shoulder, sending a cascade of free-floating blood droplets. She lashed out, throwing a Cyclone Spear aimed at Prasanna. It drilled through layers of stone and metal, never losing speed or torque as it reached its mark. Prasanna simply stepped to the side with an airy demeanor.

Her ambivalence was short-lived, however. When the spear of air drilled into the ground it sent a shower of dirt into her line of sight. She blocked any particles from entering her eyes, but the damage was done. Kuvira had slipped out of view, hiding amongst the debris in her Aviary Zone.

She rotated the fragments caught up in her gravitational field, but Kuvira adapted quickly, repositioning herself to remain concealed from her opponent. Prasanna ground her teeth, bringing her arm down swiftly. The debris slammed into the ground with immense force, driving the layer of mass on top of Kuvira in an attempt to flatten her.

Indra almost shouted a warning to Prasanna, but Tengri sealed his lips shut with a hand. A bundle of feathers had rolled out from underneath the debris before it reached the ground. Kuvira jetted around the perimeter of the arena, using the dust cloud as a cover to mask her presence. Coating her arm in a violent wind, she launched an attack from behind.

Prasanna didn’t bat an eye, however; a shield of distortion appeared to absorb the impact. The wind on Kuvira’s arm dissipated and the shield came down as Prasanna balled a fist coated in blue.

“Azure Blitz.” Her eyes burned with cold rage as she delivered a devastating strike layered in condensed matter. Kuvira’s body crumpled under the density of the blow as the air distorted around her frame. She was launched towards the announcer's booth. Indra braced himself for impact, though Grisha looked unperturbed. A layer of prisms halted Kuvira’s ascent and she plummeted to the ground, laying motionless once the dust settled. The match was over.

Indra bit his lip as the crowd roared. They chanted Prasanna’s name again but she was not concerned with their praise anymore. She kept her eyes fixed on Kuvira. Grisha hadn’t called the match yet, sitting in silence. Slowly, all eyes followed Prasanna’s gaze. In the crumpled pile that was Kuvira, a lone finger twitched slightly.

Kuvira dug into the earth, grabbing a fistful of dirt. She pushed herself up shakily, blood dripping from her ears and mouth. Her breathing was uneven, a massive divot in her chest plate indicating where Prasanna had struck her.

“What,” —she panted— “do you want from me?”

Prasanna regarded her with disgust. “The people you worked for—they were members of the Crouching Sun, correct?”

Kuvira’s eyes grew wide at the mention of their name. The Crouching Sun? It seemed vaguely familiar to Indra. He tried to recollect where he had heard the name. In passing from a stranger? No, it had to have been from somewhere significant. He wracked his brain trying to remember.

“Drug peddlers, petty criminals, and overall low-life scum. That in and of itself wouldn’t be enough to pique my interest. But this group in particular—do you realize the kinds of people they were funding? Murders, thieves, rapists!” Prasanna seethed.

Then it hit Indra. An investigation a few years back came to mind. It had led to the arrest of a number of key figureheads involved in the drug trade sweeping low-income areas in the cities like an epidemic. He was sure Prasanna was talking about the same people: the Crouching Sun, a triad operating in south Yuèliàng close to Dvaita.

“Radical zealots of Surya funded by your organization found our village. They slaughtered my family as an offering to their god!” she spat, her words laced with venom.

Kuvira’s expression of shock didn’t last long. To everyone’s surprise, she grinned. “So that’s what this was about. Revenge for your family? Please, don’t make me laugh. You can’t get at the members of the Crouching Sun anymore, so you've turned to the next best option. Go ahead, throw everything you’ve got at me. Whatever frustrations you’ve built up—your rage and your sorrow—all of it. I’ll take it head-on, and once you’ve tired yourself out, we can end this silly little game.”

Prasanna ground her teeth, as the arena shook. “You and the wolf—”

“Are your comrades now. Whether you like it or not, our pasts don’t matter here. Our lives no longer belong to us. We were deemed property of the state the moment we became Homunculi. So forgive me when I say I have no qualms about my connection to the Crouching Sun. I did what I had to do to survive.”

“Let’s see you survive this then,” Prasanna remarked coldly.

The arena no longer resembled a functioning field, parts of its infrastructure strewn about the air like an archaic labyrinth. Kuvira and Prasanna took to the sky, clashing amongst the debris. Shields of blue halted blades of wind as sparks of energy flew. Each exchange of attacks sent debris floating away, sometimes precariously close to the stands. The audience didn’t seem to care much, however, matching Grisha’s energy and screaming their lungs out. The air was ecstatic.

Kuvira weaved through the claustrophobic environment, adjusting her trajectory by kicking off nearby objects in accordance with the constant shifts in gravity. Prasanna sent violent punches her way, creating holes in reinforced slabs of metal and concrete. Each attack seemed more powerful than the last, but her accuracy continued to diminish. Kuvira’s remarks had sent her over the edge.

Kuvira slipped in-between Prasanna’s hyperdense fists, coating her leg in a fierce gale. Her kick struck Prasanna’s temple, rattling her brain. From there, she repeated the dance, slipping behind debris and using Prasanna’s blind spots to get in close. She alternated between nimble and heavy attacks, landing swift strikes. Prasanna managed to block several Cyclone Spears, but Kuvira’s Wind Blades and Gale Cutters proved much faster than she could anticipate.

Indra couldn’t believe his eyes. At such blistering speeds, Kuvira continued to maneuver deftly as her opponent shifted the strength and direction of the gravitational field to catch her off guard, all the while following through on several attacks of her own. Prasanna had been forced into a defensive corner by Kuvira’s technique and level-headedness.

Their battle had reached a climax. Kuvira curled her fingers in the shape of a bird’s talons, diving towards Prasanna. The attack didn’t employ any prior strategy, marred by an obvious tell. Yet, as she soared through the sky, she seemed to cut the very atmosphere around her. Her fingers burned bright gold as she descended on her target.

“Golden Eagle’s Descent!”

Everyone watched with bated breath as Kuvira cut through layer upon layer of stone, concrete, soil, and metal without losing an iota of speed. Prasanna threw up multiple walls of sapphire in front of her in vain, a look of surprise the last thing anyone saw before Kuvira’s attack met its mark.

Her fingers carved through Prasanna’s DIVE Suit as if it were butter, cutting deeply into the flesh. A blanket of blood sprayed across the gravitational field as Prasanna viewed her wound in shock. Indra clutched the railing even tighter, crushing it under his grip. Was this it? His nerves were frayed from the anticipation.

Prasanna regained composure, bringing her fingers up to her wounds. She sealed the gashes by applying attractive forces to both sides of her tissue. Her smirk immediately wiped the look of satisfaction off of Kuvira’s face.

Her expression was calm, not a hint of anger left in her bones. “Maybe you’re right. Defeating you won’t bring me closure. It won’t quench my thirst for revenge. But,” —she engulfed her hand in an aura of blue, the intensity bathing the arena in a similar light— “I would be lying if I said this wasn’t satisfying.” Prasanna curled her fingers, mirroring Kuvira. The air crackled fiercely as she struck her opponent. “Cassowary’s Retribution,” she said calmly. Three fingers impaled Kuvira’s chest, sapphire energy exploding from her back as the attack pierced through her.