The tiny drones flitted across the vast, diverse terrain. Like shadow insects, they followed their assigned targets singlemindedly, beaming every gesture and word back to the Control Centre. The audio and visuals they captured were filtered through to the stadium screens, presenting every feasible angle of the experience for the captivated audience.
The round had yet to start, but it was deep into the Tournament now. Both fighters were already quite the worse for wear: battered, bruised, beaten half dead from their staircased journey towards the centre of the results screen.
But the minute the screen had updated with the latest victories, they seemed completely refreshed, and - judging from the expressions on their faces - barely aware of their condition.
They had, individually, been waiting a long time - a very long time - for this moment. And today the stars had finally aligned.
Well, almost.
Contestant 0067 sighed. It was a sigh of mild irritation. His katana was long gone, a victim of the trials of round 2, as was most of his shirt, but neither was hardly a thing to be bothered about.
He lifted one heavily bandaged hand - something he had taken great pains to keep unused as soon as the remaining distribution of fighters in their block had become clear - and pulled off the shreds of his black scarf. He wiped his bloody mouth with it and flung it nonchalantly behind him, letting the fabric float and fall by the wayside.
He smiled at the man facing him, mere metres away. It was actually one of his rare friendly smiles, but by nature one that, combined with a near-perpetual glower, easily made much lesser adversaries quake and turn tail.
"What a pity it's not the finals," he said, not entirely dismayed.
His opponent, 0001, stretched in a leisurely movement. Blood ran down the side of his face, a striking colour against the intricate tattoos etched all over his skin. The remains of his white gi were so heavily stained that the redness was now mostly umber and rust, and the green bands he wore around his wrists had turned black. He too had, as usual, already lost his shirt early on in the Tournament. He cocked his head and flexed his fingers, cracking his neck and the knuckles of one hand.
"Too bad," he replied, not sounding at all disappointed. He grinned, fangs showing. "But we'll make 'em wish it was."
Stadium-wide, the speakers blared. The voice emanating from it was enthusiastic, female, and highly familiar: the voice of 3ccult member Koto.
"Ladies and gentlemen and more, the highly anticipated quarterfinal match determining the victor of Block D is now beginning! Contestant Six-Seven, Jagan master Hiei, Chief of Staff for Territory 2, faces off against Contestant One, His Royal Majesty King Urameshi Yusuke, Administrator of Territory 1. This is gonna be one for the history books, folks! Once again, for those in areas situated closer to the arena platforms, a reminder to please, please, PLEASE ensure you stay within the secure barrier zone. Perimeters are clearly highlighted in yellow! It may look far away but we cannot, repeat, we can NOT guarantee the active radius of destruction being contained past the marked areas! Your ticket purchase and attendance absolves the venue, all organizing entities, Territory 3, and the entire government of Makai of any and all responsibility to injury, death, dismemberment, vapourization, disintegration, absorption, soul devouring, et cetera. And don't forget, for those of more delicate energy levels, we offer energy signature exposure and time-delay screens in all sectors of the stadium for your viewing pleasure. I guarantee you're going to want them for this match! Or you'll basically see nothing until everything is obliterated."
Above them, the referee sphere began counting down to match start. Ten. Nine. Eight.
The stadium filled to deafening with chants of "Urameshi!" and "Hiei!"
Seven. Six. The Jagan master turned his head and spat at the ground, splattering a glob of red on the soil.
Five. Four. "Didya lose a tooth or somethin'?" the king called jovially. "Need me to put it back in for you? Maybe with my foot?"
Three. Two. "Don't worry yourself over it," the Jagan master replied, his tone a perfectly bland monotone. "I know a noisy place to find plenty more."
One.
Even on the time delay monitor, they blurred.
The two fighters crashed into each other. Fists smashed into demon-hard teeth, flesh, bones. Their movements were too fast, too sharp, too rough to be choreographed - yet they were somehow still a perfectly coordinated, acrobatic dance of fire and energy across the wide, varied topography of the arena.
In the stadium, one of the screens shifted to a new view: Tournament host Koto, seated alongside two other figures well-known to all members of the audience and all viewers watching on the streams.
"Control Centre battlefield intelligence estimates a few minutes while both contestants are deeply engaged in fisticuffs. This is shaping up to be an exciting fast paced fight, so this is probably the closest thing we'll have to a breather. We'll take this opportunity for a moment of commentary from two experts very close to the contestants."
The host turned to her guests. "With me are Her Royal Majesty King Mukuro, Administrator of Territory 2, formerly Contestant 0066 in Block A, and Territory 1's Chief of Staff, the warrior monk Hokushin, formerly Contestant 0002 in Block C. Thank you both for joining us! I'm very sorry you two are out of the running this year, but both of you have been amazing to watch!"
"Thanks."
"Thank you. It's an honour to be here."
Both guests' gazes were trained on the screens facing them as they spoke, though the monk fleetingly turned his attention to the host and nodded politely.
"So what's your take on this round? Your Majesty? Thoughts on Contestant Hiei's performance so far?"
The king smiled pleasantly. The smile still somehow simultaneously promised a fate worse than death to anyone who dared consider crossing her. "Hiei likes to put on a cool, disaffected exterior, but I guarantee you he's a kid in a candy store right now. They're just goofing off."
"Fascinating. I'm sure, for most of our viewers, this looks more like mortal combat. So do you think they'll get serious? Will we see the Black Dragon in this round?"
The king raised an eyebrow and fixed a calm, unblinking, unnerving gaze on the host.
"Err. Indeed, a no-brainer. Your Majesty, you're one of the few to have faced off against the legendary Black Dragon Wave and not only lived, but thrived - literally tearing it apart with your bare hands. What would your advice to Contestant Urameshi be?"
The king shrugged, turning her attention back to the screen. "Don't get eaten."
"Uh … very insightful. Any particular approach he should take?"
"I'm sure he'll come up with something entertaining. I look forward to seeing what it is."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Hokushin, what do you think Contestant Urameshi's move will be against Contestant Hiei's most formidable attack?"
"I think," said the monk, "a possible strategy is to throw the dragon back to Master Hiei, force him to consume it, and then drag the rest of the fight on until Master Hiei falls asleep." He paused. "But I very much doubt my Lord will have the patience or desire for that type of approach. So I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest, aside from something … spectacular."
"Fair enough. How about your prediction on the results of this match?"
The monk smiled. "I would, naturally, prefer to see my Lord emerge the victor, and go on to become the next emperor. But Master Hiei is immensely powerful, and they have known each other far longer than I have been serving my Lord. I suspect it will just as likely be both of them in the infirmary at the end of the quarterfinals."
"Or in pieces," said King Mukuro.
"Thank you both for your enlightening commentary! We now return to the action in the arena!"
A stray blast from a spirit gun had blown wide, cleanly eliminating one of the larger mountains from the landscape. "Oh hell!" the drone audio caught as it flitted by Contestant 0001. "Fuck me and my dumb fucking ass!"
The bandages of Contestant 0067's arm were unravelling now, quickly. Seals and thin ribbons fell in loops to the ground, exposing a detailed dragon snaking around the flesh. A thin slit, like a cut, appeared on his forehead, then opened fully into the glowing violet-red fire of the Jagan.
The dragon tattoo shuddered and rippled into life. The atmosphere of the arena began to darken and heat, pulsing unnaturally.
"It's what we've all been waiting for!" the speakers blasted. "The infamous Black Dragon Wave, the immolating Dragon of the Darkness Flame! Forget about the finals, Contestant Hiei has obviously been saving it for this match!"
The heat surged, and the tiny dragon reared its head, launching itself from the Jagan master's arm, spiraling and growing at incredible speed into a gargantuan, writhing, serpentine mass of lightswallowing flames.
"This dragon's a beauty! Look at how quickly it's being pulled into this plane! Viewers, please check out at the amazing definition on that slavering jaw, ready to reduce any opponent to less than ashes!"
The insectcam zooming in for a clearer shot touched a wave of expanding energy and was instantly reduced to less-than-ashes, blown away in the wind.
Simultaneously, at the Gandara Library, the Energy Antenna broke. The energy readings display went white-blind, spitting static for several seconds before changing to a live feed of the Tournament. A handful of locals cheered and bought each other a round of Ogre Killer to celebrate their foresight and new winnings.
"Sorry folks, looks like we just lost drone 67 to the intense hellfire aura rolling off that ferocious dragon. No more closeups from Contestant Hiei's side! -And this just in, Control Centre advises me that the Energy Antenna has snapped. MKBookie would like to congratulate everyone who bet on the quarterfinals! Well done to the service technicians this year, it's a new record! -My gosh, this is the biggest Black Dragon I've ever seen! Now how will Contestant Urameshi respond? Based on experience and the wisdom of our expert commentators, I'm going to say his answer is something that will result in a lot more mutual mass destruction!""
The king's face was dripping with sweat, his eyes gleaming at the materialization before him. He licked his lips.
"Lemme think," the king drawled lazily. "Pushed back, eaten, ripped in half. What else can I do with you?"
The dragon turned sharply and angled to face the king head-on. Impossibly long jaws opened, a gaping black tunnel of endless inferno and thunderous, deafening roaring. In the Control Centre, out of sight and sound to contestants and viewers, there was cursing and frantic activity as the sheer emanating heat reduced several heavy duty prime cameras to mere vapour.
A wicked grin spread across the king's face. "Ohhh, I know."
The dragon charged, a battering ram of flame, every force behind its summoning driving it towards its target. The target in question ripped off both wristbands, revealing an electric, pulsing lightning chaining both arms.
An excited titter squeaked from the speakers. "Oh boy, Contestant Urameshi was holding back this time around too! That almost never happens! Looks like he's about to release his spirit shackles; who knows how long he's had those things on for!"
"Ante!" the king screamed, and light flared around him, exploding into a shrieking hurricane of power.
"And there goes the other drone, and cameras 7, 8 and 9. If the Antenna didn't snap already, it'd definitely be down now! Looks like it's gonna be a long distance affair on this match! But I've got a feeling the action isn't going to take long to reach our skycams!"
Indeed, the energy around the king swiftly condensed into a spiraling column miles high. The whirling supergyre deflected the direct course of the Black Dragon Wave, sending it flying past. Several spectacular shots of the vortex were transmitted to the stadium screens before the skycams capturing the view were taken out and disintegrated entirely.
The energy soon coalesced into the head and body of a glittering phoenix, its piercing cry echoing in the audio feed. Towering, expansive wings spread, seeming almost to cover the entire diameter of the arena. Just as quickly they folded, shuttering back into the figure at its core.
When a working camera finally got a good shot of the king, it was a view of a figure emerging from a dust storm, long dark mane flying wildly, eyes burning gold, and a slightly maniacal expression that spoke of hunger and glee. The intricate tattoos on his body seemed even more prominent now, almost alive.
"Whoa! Contestant Urameshi is in full Battle God state! This is probably the showdown, folks! Brace yourselves - it's gonna be a wild one!"
The energy vortex now gone, the dragon had orbited the diameter of the arena again, and was now on a return path towards the king. It bore down in full force, screaming, jaws spread wide.
Its small, bright target turned, facing the dragon - then jumped, launching into the sky, practically on a head-on collision with the Black Dragon Wave.
The upper length of the dragon recoiled and then lunged, body snapping forward with a second thrust at the king. Jaws engulfed the light in the sky, and teeth of black flame snapped shut around the fighter.
The audience gasped, and fell silent.
"Y-yikes! Completely contrary to King Mukuro's advice, which he couldn't have heard anyways, Contestant Urameshi has allowed himself to be consumed by the Black Dragon! What insanity is this?"
There was no audio from the arena aside from the thrum of heat, the reverberating of the darkness flame. Absent of any interruption, the sound of this heat was persistent, overwhelming, almost heady.
The dragon continued to sear a snaking path across the skies.
"... Surely this couldn't be the end of the match already? Wait- Control Centre says there's some interference from the darkness flame and the scanners are picking up something else. Please stand by as we boost the signal -"
The keen silence was broken by a mad cackling. The throat of the dragon lit up like a hot bulb under a dark mesh.
"Eat this, Hiei!" the king could be heard screaming, his voice faint and somewhat distorted due to the distance and energy interference.
A massive bolt of energy rocketed through the dragon's throat. It blazed like lightning down the long path of the darkness flames' body, pierced the tail end of the beast, knocked the tiny figure of its summoner a good distance away from any remaining cameras.
Then, bizarrely, the energy began to curve, rolling in a colossal wave back towards the dragon's head.
"What- what is he doing? The spirit wave has the dragon skewered like a shishkebob, but it's not stopping!"
High above the stadium, in a private box labelled "Reserved: Reikai", three occupants watched the screen intensely.
"Well, this looks familiar," said one, a man in a crisp white suit.
The second occupant, a woman in a bright, festive kimono, long blue hair pinned back elaborately, frowned. "Not to me," she said.
The third occupant was an elegantly attired ogre, busy stuffing his face with food. "You were busy," he said, his mouth half full.
Near the first box, in another private area identified only as "Reserved: Minamino Enterprises", melodious laughter filled an otherwise quiet space.
A hand lowered a glass to a table, avoiding spillage. "Oh, Yusuke," murmured the lone occupant in the box, shaking his head, eyes full of amusement. "You didn't. Hiei is going to be pissed."
The wave of energy reached the dragon's head and clasped it like a hook.
The voice from the speakers was incredulous. "It's a- a-a ... A black dragon doughnut?!"
Bound like a wheel, the king still trapped inside it somewhere, the dragon began to roll backwards across the sky like an ominous sun of black fire. It was an impressive sight that somehow managed to be both immensely fearsome and incomprehensibly ridiculous.
Another eerie hush descended upon the stadium crowd, and around the three Worlds, as breaths were held and eyes were fixated on the screens.
Something else was clearly happening to anyone with the faintest sense of visual proportions.
The dragon was getting bigger.
Or rather, more distorted, as if its fiery skin were growing too tight for its inner flames. Its surface area stretched with unbearable balloon-like tension, until it resembled more a blowfish of the darkness flames than anything else.
A ray of energy split out of one section of its neck, and then a second, third, fourth, riddling the stuffed beast with millions of spikes of light.
"Ah, now is a good time to remind all our audience members to please stay within the secure barrier zo-"
Then it exploded.
The effect was a hellish combination of earthquake, avalanche, tsunami, and atomic explosion all smashing into each other at once. A figure crashed into one of the remaining hovering cameras and the stadium screens went black, then white, then quickly refreshed, jumping to another feed, but not before the audio had caught the Jagan master's distinctive voice: a staccato burst of hysterical laughter that was more amused than insane, followed by a choked, ragged "Bastard- pulling a fucking Kuwabara-"
There was a horrible, brain-shearing screech, an unearthly roar, and a flickering, negative image of arena structures combusting. Then this visual went black as well, followed by a second and third screen repeating the same process, the audio nothing but howling of energy and debris.
"Nooooo! Our last camera!" wailed the stadium speakers at the loss of the sixth screen. The wail was abruptly cut off with an earsplitting bellow of audio interference. A collective groan echoed throughout the entire venue just as all the lights, and every other system, within the venue failed.
In the capital of Territory 3, the exterior display of the Gandara Library went white again. The throng gathered outside groaned in perfect, disappointed unison, wishing they were in the stadium where the action was, unaware that the stadium was simply a noisier, darker, messier more of the same.
36 hours later, after the storm had died down, basic systems had been brought back online, and inspectors had deemed it safe for search and medic teams to pass the barrier, Contestant 0067 was found floating in what were assumed to be the remnants of the lake area in one of the other arena platforms, fortunately face-up. After 60 hours, following a meticulous third sweep of the ruins, Contestant 0001 was finally located in what was presumably the former jungle basin, now fused with mountainous terrain.
Surprisingly, both fighters were (mostly) intact, albeit unconscious with very weak, but stable, vital signs. Unsurprisingly, neither was fit to move on to the semifinals, both were shuttled off to the infirmary, and the Block D quarterfinals was declared a double K/O.
Cleanup was, needless to say, a bloody nightmare.
Author's Notes: I wasn't really expecting to write this, not the least because I find action really difficult, but Yusuke was so excited about it in Live Coverage that it just ended up kind of happening.
And ahhh, thank you everyone who took the time to write such positive comments in the reviews! It means a lot to me!