Season 11.5

Episode 37

Zane woke up from his sleep, and smiled darkly. Today was the day.

Zane slipped on a black and red jacket with a Y on the back, and a pair of jeans. When he glanced at the mirror, white eyes greeted his composure, lighting up the lingering traces of darkness in the room.

Zane placed his main weapon on him, then took some of Juliet's knives. He did a head count for knives, and counted about four.

A heavy knock interrupted the silence in the suite, and Zane opened the door to fight everyone surrounding him.

"Today's the day!" Juliet sang. "You better win." She added playfully. Zane ignored her.

Kenya nodded. "See you at the stadium. The committee has decided to take you there via chopter, as the semi-final traffic is already clogging the streets."

"Good luck." Trystan saluted. Zane smirked.

Gavin stared at him silently. "Win."

Zane's eyes swirled a crystal pure white. "I intend to."

The four members walked over to the helicopter, and Juliet stayed behind.

"And how come you're still here?" Zane mocked, staring at Juliet. Juliet looked at him seriously, and Zane stared at her.

"Intel came in from our spies. Maga's an elemental user." Juliet said, lowering her voice.

"So do your best~!" Juliet patted him, then jumped back as Zane angled his knife at her neck. She smiled, then slipped into the elevator before Zane could reach her.

"Come with us please." Zane turned his attention to a stuttering voice. A man dressed in clad black held a clipboard. He had on black glasses, and a black suit, tie, and pants.

Zane rolled his eyes, then followed the man. The two entered the elevator, where four more men stood in the elevator. Zane flashed them his blades, the two daggers cleaned from yesterday's torture session.

The elevator eventually reached the top of the hotel, and Zane noticed a helicopter pad branching off the from the hotel. Zane strolled passed the men, and sat inside. The driver greeted him with a small wave, but Zane looked at him with malice. The driver released his controls, startled at the hatred and evil of Zane's gaze, and all thought process ceased for a moment, the man overcome with fear. The man passed out on the chair, and the co-pilot thankfully took control over the helicopter, and asked for assistance in the helicopter.

Zane looked over head at the sparkling ocean, but focused on the stadium ahead. Massive waves of confetti exploded in the air, and despite the earliness of the hour, he arena already seemed to be at maximum capacity.

The helicopter slowly glided onto the helicopter pad, and men shouted orders to clear out the area. Zane hopped out the helicopter, and a crew of medics took the pilot out of the helicopter, and on a stretcher.

"The finals will begin in three hours. The gadget on you will give you a notice fifteen minutes prior to. Feel free to explore any of our weapons area, or the stadium in general. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask us." One of the men told him.

"Do you have any information on Maga?" Zane prompted.

"Sorry. Information sharing about opponents is the one thing we're forbidden to share." The man replied. Zane scowled.

"Then I have no use for you." Zane said, walking down the staircase. Zane found himself immersed in a packed crowd, who rushed to the gates of the stadium. Concession stands popped up, and Zane saw Juliet buying a tub full of candy. Zane walked in the opposite direction of her, and realized he was approaching the weapon areas.

Seeing no purpose in exploring the stadium, Zane entered the weapons place. Rows of bullets and guns lined the area, but Zane didn't even glance at them. He approached the melee weapons, and centered himself in a room with weapons of every caliber.

"I see I'm not the only one interested in the weapon area."

Zane cracked a smirk, and inspected the weapons. While the weapons glistened from polishing, none would stand a chance at the sheer strength and speed he wielded his own weapons. They would most likely crack if he even gripped them.

"Not the weapons area. Rather, I'm interested in the competition." Zane took a shuriken off the rack and threw it at the speaker. Red eyes looked at the shuriken, and black gloves tossed it into the air.

"Nice shape, but extremely weak. I hope that it wouldn't break so fast under these conditions." Maga commented, flinging the dagger into the wall.

Zane chuckled slowly. "I could say the same thing. Except, it's fantastic when it breaks. The work and effort put into it crumbling away into ashes, and the depressing state it's in." Zane smiled at Maga. "Quite the scene."

Maga took up the shuriken again. "It seems the shuriken can be used for different purposes, and has conflicting makings. But no matter. The one who wields it the best wins in the end. It's only a matter of how much they can endure." Maga said.

"It seems you have much confidence in your win."

"And the blood lust in you rolls off in waves. I do hope I can find an entertaining fight in you." Maga replied.

"I can't wait to wipe off the confident expression coating your face, Azne."

"The same comes from me." The two conflicting auras clashed like fire and ice against each other, and neither backed off from their words.

The man behind the door shuddered at the words being spoken, and readied himself to open the door. The man took the handle of the door, and Zane looked at the door.

"If you don't want to be next on the list, then I suggest you come in." Zane said. A tremble coursed through the worker's spine, but he entered.

"It's time for the tournament." Two alarms went off, and Zane and Maga looked to find the gadget going off.

"Try and survive." Maga stated.

"Same goes for you." Zane taunted. The two split up, and headed towards their designed area. Zane entered the waiting area once more, and leaned on the wall.

"Our final participants! The final day! Who's ready for the battle to begin!" Merriweather roared. The crowd stampeded their feet in the stadium, and shouts and screams answered her question. Merriweather nodded.

"In the finals, forfeiting or surrender is not acceptable. The winning team must permanently disable the opponent, and render them incapable of fighting." Merriweather said. Zane took out his daggers.

"But I'm not ready to waste a second on this fight." Merriweather skipped off the field, her cowboy boots clicking to the side. Merriweather stationed herself in the stands, and Zane watched as the doors opened up.

"You already know these fighters. You already know who you want to cheer for. Therefore." Merriweather's sea blue eyes glistened on screen. "Let the finals begin!"