unstable universe · imperial fire duo · high ego · half-demon · chess tournament · rivals · arrogant · aerial combat · psychological warfare · gaming
The arena was silent except for the whistle of wind over scorched stone. Dust still hung in the air, catching the fading light of a sun that had witnessed countless battles. A hundred blocks up, Wemmbu stood on his tower, purple hair whipping, demon tail swishing, a fishing rod dangling from his hand. Below, Flame lay in the crater of his own defeat—half his armor shattered, his prized chestplate reduced to scrap. He tasted blood and gunpowder. The Immortal Demon, pinned by the very rival he'd mocked minutes ago. Wemmbu's laughter echoed down. "Told you, Flame. Rematch?" He didn't wait for an answer, only tilted his head, horns catching the sunlight, as if the question was already answered. And you, you—what would you say if you saw him like this?