Haley's lips parted, not completely understanding... but all the while, understanding . It all started to come together like pieces of a puzzle. How could she have missed the clues? The air in his lungs after the second round, her steady crash of exhaustion, how his skin went from blistering cold to tepid and now—the telekinetic could not resist her urge.

Dainty hands topped the warrior's own, warmth radiating under her fingertips. "Impossible," she breathed.

The psychic's mind went over every encounter; every question mark she'd written off with some random explanation. The sweat and heat that swelled from his body on the Canyon in the night. How her fever felt as if it rose from their cuddling.

What exactly was happening to him? Was he returning to life by stealing her own?

Her lip quivered underneath her top teeth, and Diarmuid retracted his hands. It stung, sharp like a wasp. This man—whom Haley shared deep feelings for—returned to the distant warrior from their initial meeting.

It crossed her mind to allow this behavior. The Knight was correct; if they furthered their relationship, threw caution out the window, it could very well end in her death . What would become of Diarmuid then?

Azure eyes remained sullen, fixated on the back of his torn orange jumpsuit. His skin peeked through, showing signs of burns from his collision with the barrier. Slight bits of her weighted-down magic twinged to heal it; but she knew that would only burden them further.

"Diarmuid…" the words were barely audible. What could Haley say? If she never incited that nefarious desire to exchange their light touches that augmented into embraces and eventually—romance—they would not be in this situation.

Her Knight could have finished his match with Cu Chulainn—and brought them the victory he most likely planned. Now their fate was entirely undecided, and without any action of their own to guide or grant them reassurance.

And it was all her fault.

A painful sigh escaped the Lancer, and he guided his Lady to sit down with him on the hard mattress, "I can feel your energy—it is all over the place. Be calm, Lady Haley. Fear not, as we shall—no—we will figure this matter out."

Haley pitifully dragged her eyes to align with Diarmuid's, refusing to shed a tear. She had to be strong as he encouraged, or else… well, everything was over for them. If it wasn't already… Bad idea as it was, the saddened woman still brought her lips to his.

Diarmuid rested his palm on the left side of her cheek, and returned her affections, before he pulled away. "May that be the last time we share such pleasantries… until we find an answer to our dilemma."

Figuring the answer to that would prove to be difficult—that the Knight knew. This was not the effects that the "Craving of the Dead" naturally bestowed upon its victims. No, it was not possession, but rather something else entirely; but it remained the cause, nevertheless. Indeed, his body was stealing her life force, restoring his form in some way.

It seemed fate was not entirely on the Irishman's side as he had hoped. Desire had led to slowly crippling the woman he grew so fond of… the exact opposite of his desires. He wished only to protect her from their enemies, and give them victory for this tournament. Now that idea seemed distant on the horizon.

To what extent would Diarmuid go to keep his Lady safe? To be one of the perpetrators against her… taking her life to support his own… what rubbish that was. Responsible yet again for another painful blunder, he stared at his empty, blistered hands. Surely, this was testament to what a failure of a Knight he is.

Haley brought her knees to her chest, huddled fixedly onto the medical bed, as more losing competitors flooded the gloomy room. She analyzed them; pitied them. They were far more wounded than Diarmuid was. The human counterparts dripped blood, their companions lacerated and bruised.

She wanted desperately to lean on Diarmuid's shoulder, to let him know that he did well against the Irish Legend, but words failed to reach her lips. The rune spell finally lifted, but now she was overtaken with terrible remorse. Her Knight—despite his calm, stolid disposition—had this aura around him she hadn't sensed since their earlier days.

While only say, twenty percent of the world's evil still resided within him (twisting his insecurities and past to demonic levels) it was beginning to manifest once more. Haley wanted to reach out to him, to placate the emotions that were struggling to bear down on the curse that had taken advantage of both their broken states. Only she knew that her touch, their strengthening bond… empowered her own demise.

This… was the most overbearing hurt she had ever come across. The psychic's father's pursuance was nothing more but a small thorn in her side. No amounts of torture, or fear, could equate to the burning beat of her heart… as having Diarmuid in her circle was all she could have dreamed for.

Yes, that was why her chest ached. All of her wishes, every bit of the painful life she had endured, brought her to the Gates of the Underworld, Hell's Lobby—to Diarmuid. Their meeting was the sole good fortune Haley wanted to hold on to. A companion. A person in her life who shared similar betrayal and anguish.

And now she had to pretend nothing existed between them, in order to save them. The telekinetic immediately understood this was not easy for her Knight, either. She saw it in the twitching of his eyebrows, the jerk of his hand reaching for hers, then its retraction in the blink of an eye.

All she hoped for—was that he wouldn't blame himself. As he shouldn't. This was a plague of the Underworld, and her mistake to bear. She would relate that to him, and hopefully they could come to an agreement that will keep them both safe.

She opened her mouth to speak her assurance—but was interrupted by an Observer infiltrating their space.

"We are to have a word."

—

"What the hell was that, Cu Chulainn? Were you not to eliminatethem?!" Loki snarled, as his nostrils flared. The impotent traitor had broken apart their agreement. The useless Heroic Spirit should have struck that Forsaken down where it stood once its blood had fallen.

To add to his fury—the wretched warrior only shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, as if he did not have a care in the world. Why, why did he have to sustain a neutral contract with these… nefarious heroes, to have his Tournament?! Dolos was more than enough!

"If I remember correctly, as Dolos proclaimed: as a challenge I am not to strike the Underworld's inhabitant's spirit cores, ya?" Cu sucked his teeth, then offered the angry God a cheeky smirk. "So I didn't."

"Those rules don't apply to the Damned that shed blood!" Loki's fist slammed on the armrest of his throne chair, the bracelets on his wrist rattling as it did. "Already, al-readyhave we shown them dignity! First with Achilles's battle continuation not being taken into consideration, then with Trista's blatant disregard for MY ORDERS, now this?! How much more leeway do we grant them?!"

With Achilles absent—taking part in battle while the remaining Panel deliberated—Dolos hummed in amusement. Quite the interesting situation. Never before had he seen this. "Well, we could just kill them now—at least, the Forsaken," Dolos said impassively, flicking at his fingernails.

Gilgamesh remained silent, crimson eyes locked on the battle in the Arena below him. That Demi-God was quite the wonder, effectively speeding across the rocky terrain with ease. How the stupid human puppet that was Shirou Emiya was managing against him with his mundane Forsaken was more entertaining than those other two.

"I too, am quite shocked at the events that have recently transpired. For once I agree with the Norse God. This transgression cannot go unnoticed. Our agreement with Hades calls for it." Athena traced her golden necklace, and crossed one bare leg over the other as her dress swept over her foot. "So. How should we handle their disposal?"

Merlin listened to the raging God, twiddled his thumbs, and looked to the ceiling of their little barrier. This was quite the predicament, that even he had not entirely foreseen. While yes, he knew of the increasing instability between those two—he knew better than to get involved. Altering fate was not entirely in his rap sheet.

Though the situation had proven to be relevant much sooner than anticipated, there was always a plan that could be put in place. One that would benefit all involved, based on what his clairvoyance told him.

"Now, now, fellow Hosts, might we come to a more… plausible solution, hmm?" the wizard proclaimed, standing in the air on his rosy pink flower petals. "I believe I have a suggestion."

—

Arms hugged around her waist to keep her persistent jitters under control, Haley gnawed at her lower lip relentlessly. The Observer left them with instructions for the punishment game. Simple, but… She looked to her Knight, whose demoralized gaze held the floor. If that was what they were supposed to do… then…

Little hands nabbed Diarmuid and dragged his raven head to her chest. This was all too much for her and him to handle alone. Together they had managed to overcome trials not normal to man, and this was no different.

"I am sorry, my Lady… I… have failed you." Diarmuid lamented, no longer hiding his grief over their predicaments.

Lip quivering, Haley shook her head; her locks scraped against the Knight who enveloped her on the tiny hospital bed. "Don't… say that...you idiot…" her chin now rested on his head, and she blinked away the tears that strained her eyelids. "That's not true."

"But I have… since we are to…" Diarmuid couldn't say the words of their next endeavor. "...Your father… and our battle…"

Haley lifted Diarmuid's chin shakily, and kissed his forehead. "I… can figure that.. out.. I can find a way to run from him forever… but…" she pulled back, looking into those anguished orbs and thumbed his cheek with a sniffle. "But I can't run from this… from you. We get through this, together. Just… like we always do…"

Diarmuid cupped his Lady's cheeks, and pulled her lips to his. There was no mistaking that it mattered not anymore if the drain on their connection held. Not with this proposition looming over them like the dark cloud of his curse and history. "Thank you, Lady Haley. You are too kind to this tragic Knight."

"Oh shoosh," Haley flicked his forehead before he could return to his feet and face the obstacle that was before them.

Diarmuid offered her his hand, which she gladly took to stand beside him. The call had come for the remaining contestants to gather at the Arena to face their punishment round. Never having taken part in this before, Haley knew not what to expect.

What she did know, as her hand now firmly locked with Diarmuid's—exchanging a confident look with the fierce Knight before her—was that together they would win, and together, they would fall.

—

The combined sound of crickets and cicadas chirped in the darkness of the Arena. The canopy of the tall trees blocked out the moon's bright rays, but some slipped through the gaps of the leaves. The contestants were spread out in the forest's domain, leaving Haley and Diarmuid alone.

The watch left a grim directive, attached to the plot of the round. Resembling the six days in the Arena: one of the pairings was to protect the other with everything in their arsenal. Only it was the Detainer's responsibility this time around, and the days were a mere four hours in length. No healing was not a surprise; Haley's throat hitched, but she nodded to Diarmuid with resolve. She would protect him with everything she had.

At least, possibly, for as long as she was allowed…

Haley shuffled through the long blades of grass that scratched her arms. Keeping an awareness of their surroundings, they searched for a safe place to preserve their energy. In the back of her mind, she thanked Cu Chulainn for completely releasing her from the Rune, as sustaining any sort of safety in that previous condition would have been crazily difficult.

In all honesty—as she leaned against the trunk of a tree—there was still a bit of fuzziness in her mind, but it was insufficient in holding her down, as it had before. Casting her gaze to the bushes of leaves hiding the sky, Haley hoped this testament of her own skills wouldn't prove her worthless.

Diarmuid clasped his hand tightly on her wrist, snapping her attention to his shaking figure.

"S-something is…" Diarmuid's voice cracked, worrying the telekinetic.

Looking around, there was nothing threatening along the shrubbery, or hidden in the grass she spread with her power. She did feel a slight tingling sensation in her psyche, but it wasn't noteworthy. Cocking her head, as her Knight's grip grew more intense—Haley looked to him for answers.

Right hand still clenching her wrist, Diarmuid's left was splayed across his face. He struggled to open his eyes, as something pressured his very head. His mouth failed to incite words, and a loud ringing bothered his ears. What in the world….?

A cold chill made the hairs on both Diarmuid and Haley's skin rise.

Though a shallow breeze, it pendulated the terrain. Haley caught a glimpse above them, as the thicket of leaves spread and demonic birds emerged. Devoid of flesh, with bones crackling, and long beaks similar to that of a pterodactyl, the gargantuan monsters attacked.

Haley swatted them away, each bird flung and torn apart by her mental capacity. The woman shielded Diarmuid, as the swarm of creatures aimed solely for him. Knowing full well if she couldn't see them—the telekinetic would be unable to keep them away. So she kept her focus on what struck at them, as opposed to what came on an incline.

The tree they used for shelter kept the endless stream of demons at bay, only a few breaking through her defenses and securing a scrape to her arm, and a strike into her thigh. Even so, it was nothing compared to what she had to endure. The woman didn't grant the beasts even a flinch.

In the end, the grass was littered with broken bones. Turning to her Knight, he seemed unaffected; the demonic beasts didn't make their way through.

Diarmuid used his index finger and thumb to massage his forehead, the relentless ringing finally halting. It was strange. It did not feel as if he was being mentally attacked but more so: read . Was something trying to get into his head?

Shaking away the unsease, he was impressed by her easy handling of those wretched monsters of the Underworld. At least they were not too troubling...or so he assumed. A moment of calm could never last in the Arena.

Greenery dented inwards, and traveling through it, moaned the restless Undead. Haley had thought she saw the last of these things in the previous round. She had no weapon to sever their restless heads. Unless…

Swallowing, Haley focused deeply on the anatomy of the… human man sluggishly traveling toward her. Slowly, she split the skin at its throat open. Still, not enough, as faint traces of blood spilled from the wound.

Oh hell... That person was… Haley shook off the unease, peering over her shoulder at Diarmuid still sitting with his back pressed against the tree, then her gaze returned to the Detainer that was lost in the first hour of the Arena.

Cursing under her breath, she split the cells in the skin, and tore away at the being's flesh. When enough of it was stripped—the neck losing its hold and the head tilted back—Haley used her hands to help sever the head entirely. The body collapsed into the turf as she rested the back of her cranium on the bark behind her.

Lit with this new strength, she copied her previous action with much more refinement, and eventually made her way through the group of Dead heading towards her.

Performing such a strenuous form of psychic power took a bit more out of her mental strength, but proved she could do it. It made the woman sick to her stomach, thinking of the limitless possibilities one could undertake if they were a telekinetic.

My Lady, you are getting stronger, Diarmuid telepathically communicated, careful to not incite further attraction to their location.

Haley slumped against wood, halting her downward slide into a slouch. Yeah, I didn't think I could do that, though. Was worth a shot, probably a fluke that it even worked.

You doubt yourself too often. Should your abilities continue to grow— you will continue to do incredible things and accomplish incredible feats.

Jeez… you flatter me. A small smile formed, as she ruffled her Knight's roughly combed-back hair into a frenzy.

Careful not to elicit attention, Diarmuid hooked his thumb into the belt loops on Haley's waist and dragged her down onto his lap with a wink. Come here.

Haley giggled, as she rested her lips onto his forehead. It was dangerous being so… enamored by the hard flutter of her heartbeat, and the playfulness her Knight created even in this… slightly perilous situation.

The woman felt the static of complicated emotions; losing Diarmuid was going to be…

When azure eyes blinked open, the woman froze, only slightly perking her face upward. Hands gripping the collar of Diarmuid's jumpsuit, Haley tugged the man with her onto their feet. Her eyes frantically looked around the thicket of sharp grass and tall trees.

Rustling in the bunch of trees released a stampede of demonic cockroaches—all varied in size and with grotesquely clacking shells.

Diarmuid, back up with me freggin slowly, and get ready to run like hell. The wide-eyed woman managed to think, before glinting eyes emerged. She had already used a large amount of telekinetic energy thus far, and using it against… those things? She'd lose her mentality before she could mow down the horde.

Oh… that is quite displeasing. Diarmuid collectively shared.

Haley was terrified of bugs—specifically—of these damned things.

Taking another cautious step back, Haley felt a strange tingle in her ankle. It was almost unnatural—she spared a downward glance, as her breath hitched in her throat. She swallowed her scream, feeling herself begin to tremble.

Up her leg slithered snakes, coiling rapidly around her thin legs. Her eyes wandered to Diarmuid, whose still form was being journeyed by the multiplying serpents. A broken whimper came through her quivering lip.

"... I … hate… this… place…"

The moment she uttered those words, the entire Arena came to life amongst the night. Clicking insect beasts swarmed forward, cutting through the grass, and scurrying up the trees. Sending the now snapping reptiles that pinched and pulled at their skin flying—Haley and Diarmuid turned and ran.

Through the towering fields of grass, followed by the flow of demonic bugs at either side of them, and trailing close behind, Diarmuid cast a sideways glance to the woman who kept up with his pace. For a second, he was impressed by her speed, knowing full well she was using her enhancement magic.

The Knight grit his teeth. If only she were allowed to use such methods to enhance me. We could outrun these—

"Diarmuid!" The telekinetic slapped into the man, knocking him into the dirt. "The freggin' things can lunge!"

Haley rolled with Diarmuid in the mud until her body was firmly on top of his. Her hand swiped, and flung the wretched creatures in every direction. She grabbed the man below her and tumbled again, grass licking at her shredded clothes.

"Fucking damnit!" she screeched, grabbing Diarmuid's shoulders and throwing him out of the way of the flipping roach that emerged from the spliced grass. "Ick, ick, ick!" She jammed her eyes shut, the crunch of the insect ringing in her ears.

Like a steaming pot, Haley's arms and chest began to sizzle.

"Lady Haley—!" Diarmuid regained his senses and scurried to help the woman shred the tainted bits of her clothes while she snapped more of the creatures away. "Ahhh… you're…"

Haley saw the Knight avert his gaze. While she appreciated the gesture to look away from the charred bits of her bra—and broken skin—this was hardly the time for either of them to be diffident. Haley palmed his chest, and turned him by the shoulder, pushing forward.

"Don't worry about it—go, GO!"

The skies whined in their retreat through the now open field. Above them, cracking wings, and demonic caws carried in the howls of the wind. Haley cursed under her breath, as other contestants came into view and the sky rained flapping beasts.

The thought that there were more things for the demons to pick and choose their victims crossed Diarmuid's mind. The maws of the beasts picked away at the contestants, while some used interesting magecraft to deflect them.

Haley—of course—was aiding the few that were able to handle the flying beasts while also redirecting the raging cockroaches that freaked her out beyond belief. Their creepy long legs and striped underbellies laughed at her as they stood on hairy hind legs and swiped for her vitals.

Sweat dripped from her brow, and the intense beating in her head almost distracted Haley, who felt the Knight press his back to hers amidst the chaos. Haley felt his fingertips brush against hers, entwining her hand with his.

Catching the eye of the man who smiled at her over his shoulder, Haley huffed while flinging the terrifying insects and demonic birds, "This sucks!"

Diarmuid chuckled; this scene felt slightly familiar. The main difference was the burning red that lit the night, and the missing heretic. "Indeed."

"Come on," her petite hand dragged the Knight away from the fray, taking advantage of the opening, and bee-lining their way out of that wretched flaming field and into the confines of the forest once more.

Gasping for breath, and feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, Haley collapsed onto the ground. She tilted her wrist, eyeing the amount of time left and groaned disapprovingly. "Ohhh… two more hours…?!" She dug her fists into the soil.

Hand lightly placed on her exposed back, Diarmuid rubbed her consolingly. Knowing the limits of her capabilities, he was sure the strain was beginning to take its toll. "Lady—"

Burned lungs finally replenished with air, Haley looked up to her Knight. His golden eyes were struck with horror and fixated on her. "What... ? What is it?"

This round seemed to leave no room for breathers; as the skin underneath his palm began to roll unnaturally. The Irishman's throat bobbed. "Lady Haley... do not fret—"

The woman cocked her head. Tingling in her fingers and arm brought her ascertainment to the lumps brimming under her skin. The sensation itched. Haley hysterically clawed at the welts squirming in her skin, tearing holes in her flesh.

A horrific nightmare was brought to life. Once, as a child, Haley had found a spider's nest that burst open. Tons of the tiny arachnids sped in different directions, successfully scarring her for life.

Diarmuid was now on his hands and knees, but his words couldn't reach the terror-struck woman. He felt absolutely pitiful, unable to do a thing to help her: her skin was being ravaged internally, tiny grey spiders hatching from her very muscles.

Hives continued to break apart in masses as Haley screeched. They were so small—hard for her to trace. She debated slicing off her entire arm. Anything to stop the multitude of crawling bugs eating away at her.

Flashing light broke open the Arena, and a small torch rolled to the Knight's knees. Diarmuid grabbed the note attached to the tool. There was a lilac seal imprinted on it. Flipping open the paper, it read:

Fire will incinerate the pests, but Haley must use it. You're allowed to do what you must to calm her down.

Practically worshiping whichever sponsor blessed him, Diarmuid grabbed his Lady's thin wrist and shook her vigorously. "Lady Haley, calm yourself! Use this contraption to burn them out!"

Fully in hysterics, and meticulously scraping at the countless array of balls swelling in her hide, Haley could barely comprehend her Knight's words. She was to do what? With what now? No… the eggs.. they were still… hatching.

"Nhh… won't stop… they won't…" The woman felt faint. Were the creatures draining her of mana, too? Oh gods, they were.

She would do it. She had to. The only way to remove the bugs from her insides was to—

A hard clap echoed in the woods. Diarmuid was above striking a woman in such a way, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Strong hands gripped her lacerations, and thick fingers dug into the tender area. "Control yourself!"

"Wha—" Haley's cheek pulsed from the back of Diarmuid's hand. The vicious twinge in her arms was almost unbearable. She shuddered under the intense crack her body made, releasing more vermin from her swelling form.

"Forgive my transgressions—but the canister!" Diarmuid shoved the thing into her flimsy grip, and once more instructed her what to do.

As if being brought around from a dreamy haze, Haley regained some sort of control. Her shaky hands fumbled at the handle. She froze. Her skin cracked open like a shell, and oozed so many—her Knight's voice echoed in her blurry mind.

Before her mental state could be warped further from the insects devouring her magic and making her mad—

Haley pulled the trigger.

Ooooo

This chapter. And the next, are so much fun when it comes to writing them. Like. Little bit of horror thrown in with some creepy icks. Kind of like a creepy pasta? Punishment games... they're called that for a reason lololol. And to just confirm, most contestants are going through similar things. More on that later.

But uh. Damn. The turmoil for these two- just keeps on coming! Gotta love the underworld yall . Its amazing hehe or maybe the writer just likes putting her characters and others in some pretty intense situations..

I hope you all are enjoying the story! Comments really make my day and inspire me to write, and help me know where you guys are at! I'm pretty chill, so feel free to tell me what you think however honestly!

Can't wait until next week! Until then, have a great day!