The Rust Warrior's Gamble

Jikirukuto, the Rust Warrior, stood poised on the precipice of a twisted game. The Colosseum floor wasn't just stained with sand, but with the blood of gladiators forced into a macabre dance of fratricide. He saw not adversaries, but pawns – puppets manipulated by the insidious threads of Darktraitor's shadow magic.

His heart ached for Alexandra, his mother, her once-graceful movements now jerky and unnatural, her eyes clouded by a chilling puppet master's control. The Shadowscale, a writhing mass of darkness, clung to her like a malignant tumor, feeding off her stolen magic.

Jikirukuto could unleash the raw fury of his time-bending abilities, a whirlwind that would shatter the arena and scatter his enemies. But victory at such a cost would leave him hollow, a tyrant wielding power without wisdom. He needed a different strategy, a subtle strike against the puppeteer, not the puppets.

His eyes narrowed as he saw the flicker of defiance in Alepou's eyes, her white hair ablaze with rekindled magic. He saw Astley, the princess of clumsiness, weaving through the chaos with surprising grace, her shield deflecting blows like a dancing leaf. They were fragments of hope in a tapestry of despair, and Jikirukuto knew he needed to orchestrate their movements, not overpower them.

With a silent whisper, he bent the flow of time, rewinding the scene like a broken record. The world stuttered, froze, then replayed, but this time, it was a performance conducted by the Rust Warrior. He nudged here, adjusted there, weaving a new timeline where Alexandra, shielded by Astley's unwavering defense and bolstered by Alepou's raw power, stood on the edge of freedom.

But Darktraitor, a viper lurking in the shadows, sensed the shift in power. He unleashed a wave of darkness, aiming to engulf Jikirukuto, to crush him before his plan could bear fruit. The air crackled with malevolent energy, a hungry maw ready to devour.

Jikirukuto, however, had anticipated this move. He had learned the bitter lesson of wielding time: with each manipulation, the fabric of reality strained. He had sworn never to use the ultimate weapon, the forbidden "He causes to become" ability, but desperation painted the world in shades of gray.

He looked at the Shadowscale, its tendrils wrapped around Alexandra, its eyes burning with Darktraitor's malice. In a voice heavy with the weight of his choice, Jikirukuto uttered the forbidden words: "Shi-ne."

The syllables, sharp as a blade, cut through the air, and the Shadowscale convulsed. Its form, once monstrous, crumbled into dust, its grip on Alexandra severed. A choked gasp escaped her lips, and she stumbled, caught by Astley's steady arms.

A wave of relief washed over the crowd, but it was short-lived. Darktraitor, battered but not broken, emerged from the dust, his eyes blazing with fury. "Fools!" he roared. "You may have won this battle, but the shadows still crawl, and I will return!"

With a deafening crackle, he vanished, leaving behind the echoes of his threat and a lingering question: could Jikirukuto and his allies hold back the tide of darkness, and at what cost?

Cliffhanger: Jikirukuto has used his forbidden power to eliminate the Shadowscale and free Alexandra, but at a potential price. Darktraitor remains a looming threat, and the weight of his choice hangs heavy on the Rust Warrior.