Chapter 31: True Gods

  The courtyard of the HQ hummed with the mechanical whine of hovercycles and the crackle of nervous energy. The team was split, the missions were etched in stone, and the "peace" of the dance floor was officially over.

  On the far side, San, Rin, and Jiwon stood checking their gear. Ren stood beside them, his expression as unreadable as ever.

  "I can't believe this," Rin said, a wide grin stretching across her face as she looked at Jiwon. "I am actually—FINALLY—on a mission with a freaking Elite!"

  Jiwon adjusted her tactical vest, giving Rin a deadpan look. "You know you're an Elite too now, right?"

  Rin shrugged, her eyes fshing with a competitive spark. With her one remaining hand, she drew her staff. Instead of choosing a synthetic limb to repce what Shade took, she had opted for raw power. The staff hummed, glowing with a fierce blue energy as she smmed it into the pavement. The ground shook under the impact.

  "Took an upgraded staff instead of a synthetic arm," Jiwon noted with a nod of approval. "Respect."

  Nearby, Eunchae darted over to San, wrapping him in a sudden, tight hug. "You sure you'll be fine without me?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

  San let out a long breath, looking down at the girl who had become the heart of their group. "Ya know, I am aware about this crush you have on me, right?"

  Eunchae froze, her face turning as pink as her bag. She quickly pulled away, looking at a very interesting patch of dirt. "Whaaaat?"

  "I am too old for you, kid," San said, his voice roughened by a rare, genuine affection. He reached out and rubbed her hair, messing up her bangs. "I'll be fine. Make sure you will too."

  Eunchae ughed, her usual bravado returning. "Okay!"

  Ren stepped toward the Outnds team. "I will join you in the journey until you reach the dungeon," he expined in his ft, professional tone. "From there, I will wait for Jaejin to come back before we head together to Kuelim."

  Rin leaned on her staff. "We should promote you by now from being just a butler."

  "Rin..." Ren sighed, a sound of deep, spiritual exhaustion. "I was never a butler. I’m an Admin."

  "Really? Since when did you get promoted?" Rin teased.

  "Ugh." Ren rolled his eyes—the most emotion he had shown in months—but his arm was caught by San.

  "Ren," San said, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. "Jaejin is a very weird guy. Watch your six, okay?"

  Ren nodded solemnly. The veterans mounted their hovercycles, engines roaring to life as they sped off into the red haze, leaving a trail of dust and the sound of Rin’s ughter behind.

  The Tournament Bound,

  The air felt heavier for the remaining group. Leeseo and Seonho stood close, their fingers interced.

  "I will win this tournament for you," Seonho promised, his voice low and steady.

  Leeseo gave his hand a squeeze. "Actually... I will win it."

  Seonho ughed, the tension in his shoulders finally breaking.

  "Let’s just get that Crest," Leeseo said, her eyes hardening as she looked toward the horizon. "Xin needs to die soon."

  "Yes, Captain," Seonho replied.

  Eunchae, ever the bridge-builder, skipped over to Wonjung. "You ready, sis?"

  Wonjung looked down at the girl, her expression unreadable. "Why are you calling me sis?"

  "Would you prefer 'bro'?" Eunchae fshed a mischievous smile.

  Wonjung didn't answer, but she didn't walk away either. Suddenly, Jaejin materialized in front of them, his yellow eyes dancing with excitement. "Everyone ready?"

  The transformation was instantaneous.

  Leeseo reached for her belt and pulled out the Silver Mask, clicking it into pce over her face.

  Seonho checked his daggers, his eyes cold and ready.

  Eunchae snapped on her Ptinum Mask, her pyful energy turning into a hero's focus.

  And then there was Wonjung. With a slow, chillingly elegant movement—and a smirk that promised absolute carnage—she pulled out a Gold Mask, a new one. She slid it over her face, the metallic surface catching the dying light of the sun.

  Jaejin ughed, a sound of pure delight. "Cssic... alright, Mainnd heroes... show them who’s boss."

  The gold light of teleportation faded, and the team found themselves in a floating room within a breathtakingly beautiful facility. In front of them, a massive gss window offered a bird's-eye view of the battlefield: a colossal white arena centered below, its edges defined by shimmering gold lines.

  Three other floating rooms hovered at intervals around the stadium—one for the representatives of Busan, one for Incheon, and one for the North. In the Northnd suite, Leeseo could clearly see Soojin standing tall among three other representatives.

  Outside, the atmosphere was electric. Thousands of Covenant staff, elite warriors, and community members packed the stands, their excitement manifesting in massive augmented reality holograms that flickered over the arena.

  First, Soojin’s face appeared in the hologram. "Woooo!!!!" the crowd erupted, the sound vibrating the gss.

  Then, the Silver Mask appeared. Again, the crowd cheered wildly, "Woooo!!!"

  The team turned to Leeseo, and Jaejin leaned back with a wide, knowing grin.

  Leeseo blinked, her voice small. "When did they even get that picture?"

  But the reaction reached a fever pitch when Wonjung appeared in her Gold Mask. The crowd didn't just cheer; they roared. The noise was a physical weight, people shouting for her louder than they had for either Soojin or Leeseo.

  "Fan favorite?" Seonho asked, gncing at the gold-masked woman beside him.

  Jaejin ughed, his yellow eyes glinting. "They probably know about the Scarlet energy, which the Covenant was really astounded by. However... they don't know Xin took it back from her."

  Wonjung gave a slight, dismissive nod. "All that matters is we get the Crest. We are not here to entertain anyone."

  "Right," Eunchae chimed in, waiting for her moment. Her Ptinum Mask finally flickered onto the AR dispy. Total silence. Not a single person cheered.

  "Heyyy..." Eunchae slumped, looking genuinely disappointed.

  "Contestants, please step into the arena," the announcer’s voice boomed.

  Their room door hissed open, and a masked Covenant staff member gestured for them to exit.

  "Does everyone in the Covenant wear a mask?" Leeseo asked as they stepped into the hall.

  "To them, identity ruins order. Come on," Jaejin replied.

  As the four Mainnd reps stepped onto the arena floor, they saw the other twelve warriors entering from the three other sides.

  Busan was a nightmare of bio-tech: Kwon, a mad scientist covered in metal accessories with a computer-like helmet; a man with robotic spider arms; a warrior with long, stilts-like mechanical legs; and one whose body was almost entirely machinery.

  Incheon fielded tough, artillery-heavy soldiers. Among them stood Aeri, a tall, bulky woman who immediately caught Leeseo’s eye.

  Northnd looked like a gathering of ancient legends—Vikings and Samurai-style warriors, with Soojin standing dead-center.

  Suddenly, an augmented hologram of the Covenant Leaders summoned in the center of the arena. "Let’s go over some rules of this event," they decred.

  Everyone fell silent.

  "No killing. If a fighter dies not by his intention, or suicide, their region automatically wins, gets the Crest for their region, and the event ends. So if you kill your opponent, without them trying to die, you just decred their region a winner."

  Leeseo looked at Wonjung. Wonjung gave her a steady, acknowledging nod.

  "To win, you either need to keep your enemy down for ten seconds... or you can knock them out past the gold line," the Leaders continued.

  The Mainnd team looked at each other, feeling a surge of confidence. "Seems easy," Eunchae whispered.

  "Yup, I am confident about you guys," Jaejin added.

  "Oh and one st rule," the Covenant Leaders said, their voices dropping. "No use of Oblivion-originated energies during every match."

  Leeseo’s eyes widened. Seonho gasped, and Eunchae’s jaw dropped. Wonjung simply let out a heavy sigh.

  "WHAT!?" Jaejin yelled, his face twisting in fury.

  "Which means no Aion energy, no Scarlet, no Chaos, no Soul. If we see any fighter's eyes glowing in the arena—they are disqualified."

  "ASSHOLES!" Jaejin screamed at the hologram.

  "Round 1 starts in an hour. Good luck."

  The holograms vanished. Eunchae let out a long, shaky sigh, her fingers gripping her sais so hard they trembled. "Nuts."

  Leeseo adjusted her mask, taking a deep breath to steady her heart. "It’s fine. We got this, guys."

  Seonho and Wonjung nodded in agreement, though the air between them felt ten times heavier. Behind them, Jaejin looked absolutely pissed.

  ***

  The backroom was a cathedral of white marble, silent and cold. Leeseo paced the center of the floor, her mind racing. "Let’s rex. If we can't use our powers in the arena, let’s think tactical. Seonho, what you got?"

  Seonho didn't look like a hero. He looked haunted, his eyes gzed and staring at nothing. "I... uhm—"

  Wonjung stepped into the space, her voice cutting through the awkward silence like a bde. "Well, first of all, if we can't use powers, neither can they. The Covenant removed our ability to use energies from off-world. Anything the others throw at us is probably just tech and biological enhancement."

  Eunchae rubbed her chin, nodding. "Wonjung is right. They didn't really dismantle us; they just leveled the field."

  "Right. And we can still use our weapons. I have my katana and tanto, Eunchae has her sais, and Seonho has his daggers. We should be good."

  "And I have my spear," Wonjung whispered, almost to herself.

  THUD! Jaejin smmed his fist into the marble wall. "This is so stupid. They are taking advantage of me with some stupid rule!"

  "It’s okay, Jaejin, we got this," Leeseo said, trying to soothe him.

  "No, Leeseo, it's NOT okay!" he roared.

  Wonjung leaned against a pilr, a dangerous smirk pying on her lips. "Seems to me you're pissed not because we have a disadvantage, but because the Covenant leaders pyed you in your own game."

  Jaejin’s head snapped toward her, his eyes wide as he gasped.

  "Come on, Jaejin, are you really that petty—"

  "Shut up," Jaejin whispered. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

  "What?" Wonjung’s smile vanished instantly.

  "I said shut up," Jaejin sighed, his voice heavy with a bitterness that went back years. "You don't get to talk here."

  Wonjung froze. It was as if he had turned her to stone. The air in the room fled.

  "I need to go," Jaejin muttered, shaking off the tension. "I have to check on the cults that Xin is building, then I will check on Ren. First fight is Wonjung, and I am not interested in watching that."

  With a final, resentful gnce, he vanished in a cloud of gold sparkles.

  "Bye, weirdo," Wonjung called out, recovering her composure and chuckling as she turned to Leeseo. But Leeseo ignored her, her eyes fixed on Seonho, who wouldn't look at anyone.

  Eunchae broke the tension, skipping over to Wonjung. "Good luck, unnie!"

  Wonjung softened for a fraction of a second, offering a small smile before turning toward the tunnel.

  Wonjung stepped onto the white sand. Across from her stood Garin from Busan. Four massive, titanium spider-legs sprouted from a harness on his back, each tipped with a bde sharp enough to split a hair.

  Garin drew a dagger and smirked at her. "You are actually... very beautiful. It’s an honor."

  Wonjung didn't say a word. She reached back, slid her Gold Mask into pce, and the stadium exploded in a roar that shook the very foundations of the pocket dimension.

  Wonjung vs. Garin

  BEGIN!

  With a flick of her wrist, Wonjung tossed her spear. It didn't go toward Garin. It arched through the air and smmed into the center of the arena floor, impaling the marble and standing perfectly vertical like a lonely fgpole.

  Garin let out a bark of ughter. "HAHAHA! You missed—whua!"

  He never saw her move. Without the Scarlet energy, Wonjung was relying on pure, kinetic explosive force. She was in his space before he could even twitch a spider-leg, burying a fist deep into his abdomen.

  Garin doubled over, spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto the white floor.

  Up in the suite, Leeseo’s eyes widened, her hands pressed against the gss. "She’s fast!"

  "She..." Seonho whispered, his voice trembling. "She moves just like General Gaeul."

  Garin scrambled back, his mechanical legs clicking frantically as he tried to find his footing. "What—"

  He looked up, but the "beautiful" woman was gone. The figure standing over him in the Gold Mask was a predator. Her eyes, peering through the dark slits of the mask, glowed with no energy—just the raw, terrifying hunger of a lion.

  Garin didn't wait. He lunged, his body becoming a whirlwind of steel. He swung his dagger in a blinding arc while the four spider-legs on his back shed out like whips, their titanium bdes whistling through the air.

  Wonjung didn’t move. She stood like a marble pilr, arms crossed over her chest, eyes steady behind the gold slits.

  Ssh. A bde caught her forearm.

  Rip. A jagged edge tore through the fabric of her shoulder.

  Slice. A deep gash opened along her side.

  She didn't flinch. She didn't moan. She just stood there, letting the metal bite into her flesh as if she were made of stone.

  "What is she doing?!" Seonho yelled from behind the gss, his hands shaking. "She's just taking hits! Even I can dodge that!"

  "No—" Eunchae’s voice was a whisper of realization. "Oh my god... Wonjung is insane."

  "Why?" Leeseo asked, her face pale.

  "She’s scaling him," Eunchae trembled, her eyes glued to the arena. "She's purposely taking hits to see him at his best... to see exactly how much he can hurt her. She’s a berserker, Leeseo. A very, very mad berserker."

  Garin, sensing victory, let out a guttural yell and lunged his dagger straight to the chest. At the st micro-second, Wonjung shifted. The bde missed her vitals, burying itself deep into her shoulder instead. She didn't cry out; instead, she delivered a lightning-fast kick to his chest, staggering him back and forcing him to let go of the dagger.

  Garin grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "You're too easy! You had me in the first half, but looks like you ran out of steam after that first dash." He ughed, his remaining spider legs lifting high. "I’m just gonna cut you until you're pushed out of the arena."

  Wonjung reached up, gripped the handle of the dagger in her shoulder, and pulled it out with a sickening squelch. She tossed it aside like trash. She cracked her neck, the sound echoing in the silent stadium, and began to walk toward him. Slowly.

  Garin didn't wait. He attacked with every bde he had. Wonjung ducked under the first strike, her movements fluid and terrifying. Before he could retract, she grabbed two of the titanium spider legs with her bare hands. With a scream of raw, physical power, she ripped them clean off his back.

  "WHAT???" Garin screamed, his bance shattering.

  Wonjung didn't give him a second to breathe. She shattered his jaw with a single punch, then delivered a kick so powerful it sent him flying backward—straight toward the spear she had pnted earlier.

  Thwack! He bounced off the spear pole like a rubber ball.

  Before he could even hit the ground, Wonjung was there, punching him back toward the pole. Bounce. Punch. Bounce. Punch. She was ping-ponging him against her own weapon, using the spear as a backstop to maximize the impact of every hit.

  Leeseo looked horrified, her breath fogging the gss. "Is this how a real Elite fights?"

  Seonho swallowed hard, his throat dry. "No... this is just the Lady in the Gold Mask."

  Finally, Wonjung grabbed the back of Garin’s head and smmed his face directly into the spear's shaft. The sound of breaking bone was sickening. Blood sprayed across the white marble and the length of her spear. Garin slumped to the ground, a heap of broken metal and flesh.

  1... 2... 3...

  Wonjung stood over him, a demonic silhouette in the gold light.

  4... 5... 6...

  Her eyes, visible through the mask, were soulless. She wasn't celebrating. She wasn't even angry. She was just... finished.

  7... 8... 9...

  She reached down, pulled her spear effortlessly from the floor, and flicked the blood off the bde with a sharp snap of her wrist.

  10—WONJUNG WINS!

  The stadium went absolutely feral. The roar was deafening. Even with blood soaking her clothes and a hole in her shoulder, Wonjung walked off the arena floor as if she had just finished a casual stroll.

  A hooded figure with a dark mask from the crowd stood up and walked away, he seemed satisfied.

  Nurses rushed past her with a hovering med-bed to scrape Garin off the floor. As she approached the tunnel, Leeseo let out a long, shaky sigh.

  "Wonjung..."

  Wonjung stepped back into the suite, the muffled roar of the crowd still vibrating through the marble walls. She was a mess of torn fabric and drying blood, but her stride was as steady as ever. She reached up and untched the Gold Mask, letting it ctter onto a small table.

  Eunchae was a blur, rushing to her side. "Unnie! That was amazing! You took so many hits, I thought you’d lost it for a second!"

  "I needed to see something," Wonjung replied, her voice calm as she looked around the room, checking the corners for hidden cameras or Covenant observers.

  Suddenly, her eyes didn't glow red—they glowed a soft, ethereal blue. The light of Yaejin’s Aion power flowed over her skin. Before their eyes, the jagged gash in her side sealed, the hole in her shoulder filled with new tissue, and the blood seemed to simply vanish.

  "Right... Yaejin gave you that," Leeseo said, her expression softening into a familiar sadness. "To save you."

  "Yes," Wonjung whispered, looking down at her healed hands. "I wanted to make things right... for her sake." She looked toward the gss window, scanning the arena staff. "Okay. No beep? No Covenant arms? Alright."

  "What is it, Wonjung?" Seonho asked, finally stepping closer.

  "I checked to see if anyone would protest me using powers outside the matches. No one did. It looks like it’s allowed," she said, a small, triumphant smile touching her lips. "Guys... I can heal each of us after every match."

  Eunchae practically bounced. "That is genius! We can go 100% every time!"

  Seonho nodded, his respect for the "Lady in Gold" growing. "And here I thought you'd actually gone mad letting that freak hit you."

  Leeseo looked at Wonjung, really looking at her. "You’re... okay without the red eyes."

  Wonjung gasp

  ed, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes welled up with unexpected tears. For a moment, the warrior was gone, repced by the girl who had lost everything.

  "Don’t cry now," Leeseo said, turning and walking away toward the window.

  Wonjung wiped her eyes, a small scoff escaping her. "Right."

  ***

  The pocket dimension was a blinding, sterile white—a void filled only with the erratic movement of floating crystals. Some were jagged like gss, others smooth as river stones, all drifting in the weightless air.

  A man in grey robes with deep blue trims stood amidst the shards, calmly adjusting the fit of his gauntlets. He wore a white helmet with a full gss visor, but instead of a face, the gss contained a swirling, chaotic nebu of cosmic energy.

  On the floor before him, a high-ranking demon writhed, his essence leaking into the white floor.

  "This is... a fascinating pocket dimension you have crafted," Minjoon said, his voice echoing with a strange, filtered resonance. He reached out, his fingers brushing a passing crystal. "To incorporate crystals into the environment is creative. It adds a certain... fragility to the space."

  "The Syer?" the demon groaned, clutching a mangled limb. "You caught up to me? How? Why here?"

  Minjoon didn't answer with words. He drew a bde and, with clinical precision, drove it into the demon’s shoulder. He didn't thrust to kill; he twisted the bde slowly, purposefully.

  "AHHHHH!!!!"

  "Pleasure," Minjoon whispered, watching the demon's form flicker. "I take pleasure in your pain."

  "Fine..." the demon sobbed, the light in his eyes fading. "Just tell me... why? Why am I a target? You only eliminate beings in Oblivion that cause imbance, correct?"

  Minjoon let out a short, dry chuckle. "You know your stuff."

  "Then how did I cause imbance?" the demon pleaded. "I was only—"

  "I can't answer that directly," Minjoon interrupted. He pulled a dagger from his belt and, in one swift motion, impaled the demon’s heart. "Simply put... the cosmos chose you."

  The demon didn't even have time to scream. His body disintegrated, turning into grey ash that was immediately swept away by the void’s artificial wind.

  Minjoon stood up straight, sheathing his weapons. He let out a long, weary sigh. "Bance..."

  He turned around, and his visor flickered. Sitting behind him on a floating prism was a woman. She looked shockingly ordinary for such a desote pce—wearing a sleeveless grey top, white baggy pants, and clean sneakers. Her long, silky hair framed a face with soft, chubby cheeks and pouty lips. She looked like a student taking a break between csses.

  "Kwak? Why—what are you doing in this lowlife’s void?" Minjoon asked, his tone shifting from cold executioner to puzzled acquaintance.

  "You’ve been spending your time in Oblivion for quite so long now," Kwak said, her voice bright and pyful. She tilted her head. "Do you miss your home?"

  Minjoon went still. "I... Vyan?"

  "No, not Vyan." She hopped off the crystal, her sneakers hitting the void with a soft thud. She looked him in the eye. "The mortal realm... Earth."

  "Why? Is it because Xin is back?" Minjoon’s visor swirled with darker colors. "I thought their war is your concern and not mine? As long as there is bance."

  Kwak sighed, a small, mischievous smile pying on her lips. "No... it’s something much more interesting than a war... it's a story about two women."

  Minjoon tilted his helmet. "What?"

  "You don't want to miss this," she giggled, her eyes sparkling with the secret of what's to come.

  Resilience.