damned_institute | Nightshift 35: The Coliseum

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Nightshift 35: The Coliseum

[from here]

When she came to, Callisto found herself sitting in what appeared to be a small set of stands. That didn't last for long, as she was soon on her feet and staring around at her new surroundings.

Unlike the rest of the basement had been, this area was fully lit - almost as though it was daylight and they'd been transported outside. It hadn't become morning already, had it? Even if it had, they definitely weren't back where they usually were when the night ended. Was this what lay beyond the black doors? But the words carved in it had said that only those who had...

She glanced to the side, quickly. One, two, and she made three. Only three of the five of them were there. The two that had pricked their fingers weren't among them.

Callisto lunged for Goku instantly, meaning to grab him by the front of his shirt. "Why did you stop me?" she all but screamed at him.

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There was a sharp bang as his finger jerked on the trigger, the shot going wild, right as he was hit hard in the chest by something invisible. The only thought he could manage was that it felt like he'd just been punched by a youkai, except he'd only seen the Jedi raise his hand--

Sanzo hit the ground roughly, sliding for several feet before he could recover. The monk managed to roll to his knees, and stagger to his feet. He grimaced, hand going to his side.

He hadn't heard the telltale crack from his ribs, but he'd fucking felt it. It wasn't going to take him down, but it wasn't going to make this any easier.

Sanzo didn't know what Obi-Wan'd done exactly. Whatever it was, it'd been enough though, to prolong his life a little longer.

The sutra had faded, returning to its place on his shoulders.

The bullet didn't strike Obi-Wan, likely hitting the barrier surrounding the arena. If there was one good thing about this situation, it was that onlookers were shielded from them, even if Landel had a frightening amount of power, and was more than willing to make good on his threats.

He exhaled as he felt the parchment disappear, and he abruptly pushed himself up to his feet. His legs were still burning, but there wasn't much he could do about that at the moment. Instead, he caught a glimpse of the glint from his lightsaber, lying a few feet away, and he reached out, calling it forward until it was securely in his hand once more. The green blade flared to life as he shrugged off his outer robe. The dark garment fell to the ground, revealing his lighter-colored tunic now.

Negotiations had failed, and there were no alternatives left. Obi-Wan knew what he had to do, not only to protect himself, but his former Master, the boy, and also his mission.

Eyebrows furrowing, he fluidly darted at Sanzo, lightsaber humming as he moved towards the other man. He needed to end this before he could use that strange power of his again.

Fuck, he'd been trying to stop that weapon from coming out, but it looked like Obi-Wan finally meant business. The glowing green blade came out with a snap-hiss.

He hadn't missed how the Jedi reacted to the sutra though. Obi-Wan almost flinched at it when the scripture exploded off his shoulders, and somehow Sanzo didn't think it was because of the mess of ancient text and green. That was disorienting enough for most of his opponents... but considering what he'd witnessed from Obi-Wan, that didn't seem like enough to stop him. Not if he could somehow sense Sanzo's presence and intent...

It was almost as if it somehow hurt to look at it.

And when the sutra had returned to him, that was definitely unconscious relief.

The monk allowed himself a small smirk. So it wasn't like the Jedi had a completely unbreakable defense.

Sanzo's mouth started to move, sutra fluttering on his shoulders.

As Obi-Wan ran forward, he heard Callisto shouting for them to go ahead and kill each other, but he disregarded her words. They weren't here to give a show -- they were doing this to save the people they cared about and themselves.

It seemed so selfish, and yet it was the only option left for them.

At that moment, Sanzo's parchment suddenly burst out, multiplying in volume. It shot out at the Jedi and shrouded its owner from view. He hissed as the tendrils seared against his skin -- not just on his legs this time, but across his torso, his arms, his back. And worst of all, he'd lost sight of his opponent amidst the endless scripture and the bright, expanding Force signature that seemed to be his own.

Instinctively, he brought his lightsaber down through a particularly troublesome piece of parchment that had caught on his leg -- but it merely passed through it as if it were made of smoke. Impossible! But that didn't stop him from trying to slash apart the tendrils that were in front him, and likely blocking him from the other man. They, too, were invincible.

Whatever it was, it could not be destroyed. The situation was only getting worse.

Sanzo had ducked out and to the side the moment the sutra exploded outwards, bringing himself away from Obi-Wan's dash towards him. All he could hear was the hum of the lightsaber, and the whip and snap as the sutra swirled all around around them in a storm.

The monk brought the gun up, stepping careful amid the flurry.

He might not be having nearly as hard a time as the Jedi; the sutra wasn't burning him, for one, instead just sliding harmless off his clothes and body.

...but that didn't mean he could see through the scriptures either. He had to locate Obi-Wan before the other man could get his bearings.

Spotting the lightsaber wasn't hard, and that was possible a spot of brown hair framed by the swirling sutra.

Sanzo took aim, the click the only hint at his location, and fired towards it.

The huge amounts of parchment might have made Obi-Wan blind to where Sanzo physically was, but that didn't mean he still didn't have the Force to guide him, or his other senses to cue him in on where his opponent was.

Click! -- It was instantaneous, but for him, it was enough to anticipate the next attack. At that moment, he cut his lightsaber through the air just in time to deflect the incoming bullet. But he didn't have time to react to the fragments of melted metal that shot from his blade and seared into the space between his neck and shoulder.

He heard himself give a hoarse cry before stumbling back. The white, hot pain, combined with the overwhelmingly powerful parchment, Qui-Gon's worsening injuries, and the ever-present void from Martin Landel were all beginning to stack against him.

But he could not give up. The Force was with him, as long as he remembered to use it as his anchor. Obi-Wan sharply inhaled as he took a split second to try to center himself as best as he could.

Sanzo caught that cry of pain. He'd definitely hit some part of him, although he couldn't sure if it was lethal or not just yet. Worse than a simple leg wound though.

Still. He wasn't going to count the job finished until Obi-Wan had a bullet to the chest or head.

The sutra brushed up against his arms and back of the neck.

The priest didn't hesitate, zeroing in on that sound. He could see a flash of the lightsaber, enough to tell that it wasn't pointed right at him. He darted forward, sutra pulsing around him, uncovering bit by bit of Obi-Wan.

Sanzo's knee came up, hard, towards the Jedi's stomach.

With the scriptures shielding Sanzo from his senses, and no more sounds to go by, Obi-Wan couldn't detect where he was, much less anticipate the attack. Before he knew it, a knee collided into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he sunk to the ground. His injury along his collar bone was still throbbing, but that was the least of his worries. The tendrils of parchment, extensions of his opponent, the Head Doctor, Qui-Gon's injuries...they were all closing in on him, suffocating him like a thick blanket. He was...

--dead, sightless eyes staring up from blood-crusted sand. Sanzo loomed over the body, gun in hand before turning away to face the Head Doctor, expressionless.

The Jedi took in a sharp breath as the moment of clarity passed, and he was plunged into a world of pain once more. He knew what it was he'd seen -- a vision of the very near future. As things stood now, he was no match for this power, which seemed to expand and contract at the other man's will.

It was very likely he wasn't going to make it out of this alive.

There was a dull throbbing somewhere in his mind that Sanzo was pretty sure wasn't supposed to be there. The sutra was starting to give off an ominous humming sound, something he was pretty sure he could only hear, and something he was just as sure he could do without.

The monk didn't know how much longer he could keep the sutra going; he'd never kept it activated this long before. The cracked ribs were making it hard to breathe, hard to concentrate fully on keeping the scripture powered. He had to end this quickly.

Sanzo started to bring the pistol butt down, in a vicious arc towards Obi-Wan's neck.

Stars burst in Obi-Wan's line of sight, which suddenly gave way to another vision.

Qui-Gon's hulking form drove a blood-stained sword through a spider's body, pinning it to the soil beneath it. There was no remorse over ending a creature's life -- only cold precision and efficiency. The spider gave a horrific squeal, legs twitching violently as it struggled against the blade. When it finally fell still, his friend pulled the weapon free.

Alone, he turned and, without sparing the monster a second glance, hurried along his way. Intent, hell-bent on finding something...or someone. A trail of anger, regret, fear and sadness seemed to follow him where he went -- a feeling as overwhelming and vast as space itself, except there were no stars. Only darkness.

Like when he'd lost Tahl, Obi-Wan realized as the haze cleared. And within that moment, he knew he couldn't let Qui-Gon endure that kind of grief twice -- not when everything they'd been taught to hold onto was in jeopardy as it was. Not when Martin Landel was wielding this kind of power over not only them, but the entire universe. Not when his friend needed him.

It was selfish, yes, but it was what drove Obi-Wan to tighten his grip on the lightsaber's handle and, with an angry hum, drive it forward, deep into the tendrils of parchment.

He didn't see the blow coming, just a blur of sickly green, and then the sutra fading suddenly. It was too fast, his vision going gray for a moment, stars swiming across his eyes.

The monk's body jolted with the sudden blow. For an instant, it seemed he hadn't even registered being impaled. Sanzo's eyebrows furrowed, before he looked down. The lightsaber was sticking into his stomach, probably protruding out from his back; strangely solid feeling for something that looked so ethereal. Smoke was sizzling up. It hurt; far worse than that time with Shuei, and with it, the knowledge that this time was different. Sanzo sucked in a ragged gasp, at the agony that radiated from it...

....the robes looked pristine around the blade........

He could smell burned flesh.

...F-fuck...

There was a sickening instant as his gaze finally flickered to Goku. The kid was staring at him, wide-eyed with horror, disbelief....

It was over as soon as it came. The gun dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers. The monk's eyes rolled back and closed.

....As if the strings were cut, Sanzo's legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor soundlessly.

The slow sound of clapping came from the centermost seats as the huge lights above the arena slowly began to dim, leaving a circle of light around the winner and the fallen man. Another light appeared above those seats, revealing The Head Doctor, standing, smiling, and looking down at Obi-Wan and the body of his defeated adversary.

"Bravo, Jedi," he said as he walked towards the railing. His expression was one of satisfaction as he met Obi-Wan's eyes, and he smirked as if things had played out exactly the way he'd wanted them to. "I must say, I was expecting the priest to be the one with the grit to land the final blow. You did surprisingly well, and I do enjoy surprises."

He shifted his weight and narrowed his eyes in amusement. He pointed at Obi-Wan.

"You, my boy, have just made it onto my good side."

He was stunned when the lightsaber sliced through Sanzo, and for a moment, he gazed at his face, etched with pain as the smell of burnt flesh reached his senses. The moment seemed to drag on, but Obi-Wan could only watch in silence as he suddenly drew the green blade back, and Sanzo's Force signature rapidly faded.

The bright energy that had once emitted from his opponent flickered like a candle's dying flame; and then what had once been a notable presence in the arena was gone, having become one with the Force. It was over. The blond dropped to the ground, leaving Obi-Wan with the heavy weight of what he'd done.

He was breathing heavily, burns and cuts throbbing everywhere, but he did not show it in his demeanor. Instead, he paused and switched off the blade; then he bowed his head, as if he ought to show this man some proper respect. After all, life was precious, and all life lost was to be mourned. This did not mark a victory; it was a failure to save everyone.

Martin Landel's slow clap echoed eerily through the arena as the lights dimmed, only illuminating him and the man's body.

In truth, he wasn't interested in being on their captor's "good side," nor was he interested in any prizes. There was only one thing on his mind right then. "The spectators," he said, voice surprisingly hoarse. With Sanzo's overwhelmingly vibrant life force missing, Qui-Gon's worsening condition was that much more apparent to Obi-Wan. His limbs felt cold at the thought of watching him die, too. "The fight is over, so there's no need to hold them hostage anymore."

"Of course," Landel replied easily, tilting his head as if to get a better look at the victor. He smirked. "You've done good for your master, and you have saved Sanzo's friend as well. You shouldn't look so glum."

He paused and then gestured at the arena.

"You all have earned the prize of getting one step closer to the finish line and the escape that it promises. Starting tomorrow night, everyone in this room will be able to enter the doors at the opposite side of the Ballroom, and through them, you might begin to find some answers about why this place exists and how you can get back home."

He paused and added: "Of course, when I say 'everyone in this room,' I don't mean 'everyone in this room and their friends.' Your prize is something intangible that only the Institute can see; you can't share it with anyone else, and should someone who hasn't gone through this trial try to accompany you on your journey into the depths of this place... well, let's just say that things won't end well."

He glanced at Sanzo's body and sighed. "As for your friend... I might be merciful and I might not. We'll see in the morning, though there will be a price to pay..."

The Head Doctor slid one hand into a pocket while he held the other one in front of him.

"And I believe I have other potential contestants to attend to. Goodbye, everyone, and I do expect very great things from you."

He snapped his fingers.

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Nightshift 35: The Coliseum

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