All it'd taken was a sick game, a reckless choice and his own weakness to fell Expel's strongest swordsman. But the sense of loss ran deeper than just that. Claude had been cheated out of a fair fight, and had been robbed of a respected ally and rival.
You could have told me before deciding for the both of us, you idiot! he wanted to yell at him, but Dias' breaths had already fallen silent, and his body had grown limp. Claude could have screamed himself hoarse and it wouldn't have made any difference. He'd still wanted to believe that they could have found a way to get out without one of them having to die, but now he'd never know for certain.
"Dammit, Dias!" he hissed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut.
The Radio Man had told Dias that the basement was the only way out. Had this all been some sick joke? Maybe death itself was the only way to escape from Martin Landel's clutches after all...
To think that they'd spent all their time working toward this, he thought as he set Dias back down onto the ground. He suddenly felt ill.
Claude looked up when he heard an all too familiar laugh sounding from the other side of the arena, though. For a moment, fear chilled his heart at the prospect of Sync getting the upper-hand against Guy. It was already bad enough losing Dias. The last thing he needed was that bastard making an unbearable situation even worse.
He gave a small breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he realized Guy was still standing. Suddenly, though, his relief was replaced by a jolt of surprise when he saw his friend perform a technique he'd never seen before. Bursts of flames engulfed Sync's body before the replica finally landed on the ground, soaked in his own blood. Claude couldn't find it in him to get much joy out of the blow against Sync, but some part of him was satisfied to see it. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if that was the true power of the fonons he'd heard so much about.
Re: Coliseum Floor - South
All it'd taken was a sick game, a reckless choice and his own weakness to fell Expel's strongest swordsman. But the sense of loss ran deeper than just that. Claude had been cheated out of a fair fight, and had been robbed of a respected ally and rival.
You could have told me before deciding for the both of us, you idiot! he wanted to yell at him, but Dias' breaths had already fallen silent, and his body had grown limp. Claude could have screamed himself hoarse and it wouldn't have made any difference. He'd still wanted to believe that they could have found a way to get out without one of them having to die, but now he'd never know for certain.
"Dammit, Dias!" he hissed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut.
The Radio Man had told Dias that the basement was the only way out. Had this all been some sick joke? Maybe death itself was the only way to escape from Martin Landel's clutches after all...
To think that they'd spent all their time working toward this, he thought as he set Dias back down onto the ground. He suddenly felt ill.
Claude looked up when he heard an all too familiar laugh sounding from the other side of the arena, though. For a moment, fear chilled his heart at the prospect of Sync getting the upper-hand against Guy. It was already bad enough losing Dias. The last thing he needed was that bastard making an unbearable situation even worse.
He gave a small breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he realized Guy was still standing. Suddenly, though, his relief was replaced by a jolt of surprise when he saw his friend perform a technique he'd never seen before. Bursts of flames engulfed Sync's body before the replica finally landed on the ground, soaked in his own blood. Claude couldn't find it in him to get much joy out of the blow against Sync, but some part of him was satisfied to see it. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if that was the true power of the fonons he'd heard so much about.