Royalty

The laughter and taunts of the spectators filled the arena, echoing off the stone walls. They mocked and jeered, their voices blending into a cacophony of cruelty.

"Look at the thief! Pathetic!"

"He's nothing but a worm!"

"Give us a real fight!"

As Lucan delivered blow after blow, my vision blurred, and I blacked out intermittently. Each punch sent flashes of memories through my mind, disjointed and surreal. I was thrown around like a ragdoll, the pain blurring the line between reality and memory.

Lucan's voice cut through the haze. "You were in the perfect place at the right time," he sneered, his laughter cold and sharp.

"I don't understand," I gasped, struggling to stay conscious.

He laughed again, a cruel, mocking sound. "I would have never pulled off the biggest heist of my life if it weren't for you. All because of you."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice weak and trembling.

"Dead men tell no tales," he chuckled. "I'm stealing from the family. That last potion just set me up for life. And when that old fat chief dies, I'm going after that tight-assed wife of his."

He mimicked Lady Morgana's voice, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, Sir Lucan, please help me with this. Hold this. Thank you for doing this."

I could taste the bile rising in my throat as he continued. "I can taste her now, and it's all because of you. Hell, even if I bring back just a drop of that potion and say I tried my best to recover it, I'm sure she'll give it up."

Lucan stepped on my head, spitting on me. "And it's all because of you that it was so easy. So tell you what. I'll do you a favor. Cremation or burial? How do you want to be remembered?"

"Remembered?" The word echoed in my mind as I zoned out, the pain and fear giving way to a vivid memory.

I saw myself dying in an office, surrounded by the laughter and work of people who didn't care. I was older, worn down by years of toil. The room was sterile, filled with the constant hum of machines and the clatter of keyboards. In my cubicle, a small, framed photo of a family sat on the desk, the faces faded and worn. It was a distant memory, a remnant of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else. The family in the photo smiled, but their eyes held a sadness that mirrored my own.

My body was broken, worn down by years of unrelenting labor. My back ached, muscles cramped from the enforced stillness. My eyes were strained, vision blurred from staring at the screen for hours on end. The sense of hopelessness was overwhelming, a weight that pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"What was this place?" I asked myself, looking around in my memory. There was no one else, just the ghostly remnants of a life spent in service to an uncaring machine. And then event that shifted and molded.

The room was vast and sterile, filled with rows of identical cubicles, each one a tiny cell of confinement. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh, cold light that made everything appear stark and unwelcoming. The walls were a dull gray, adorned with posters of motivational slogans that felt more like orders: "Productivity is Happiness," "Work is Life," and "Big Brother is Watching You."

Every cubicle was occupied by a worker, hunched over their desks, their fingers moving mechanically over keyboards. Their faces were gaunt, eyes hollow and lifeless, reflecting the toll of endless hours of labor. It was a sea of human misery, masked by the facade of corporate efficiency.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood, mingling with the sterile smell of the office. The hum of machines was constant, a low drone that filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional beep of a computer or the rustle of paper.

I was chained to my desk, literal iron shackles binding my wrists and ankles, connecting me to the workstation. The chains were heavy, their cold metal biting into my skin. I couldn't move beyond the confines of my cubicle, trapped in a small, claustrophobic space. The desk was cluttered with papers, files, and a single, flickering computer screen that demanded my constant attention.

On the wall, I saw a message, stark and clear: "Call out to me and I will find you. We are one. BELIEVE."

The words resonated deep within me, a spark of hope in the darkness. I clung to them, using them to pull myself back from the brink of despair.

Back in the arena, Lucan's taunts continued, but they felt distant now, background noise to the clarity that was forming in my mind. "Cremation or burial?" he repeated, laughing.

I struggled to my feet, defiance rising within me. "Neither," I spat, the words coming out stronger than I expected. "I will be remembered for surviving this."

Lucan's face twisted in anger, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The crowd's jeers grew louder, their bloodlust insatiable. But at that moment, I felt a strange calm. I had something to hold on to, a reason to fight.

The crowd's insults were relentless, their hatred palpable. They hurled vile words and objects at me—rotten food, stones, anything they could find. Each insult cut deeper than the last.

"Thief!"

"Pathetic worm!"

"Kill him, Lucan!"

Through it all, I held my broken body upright, staring at them emotionlessly. Lucan looked at me, confusion flickering across his face. He stepped closer, raising his sword.

"I will kill you swiftly and let you die with this pride," he sneered.

I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of strength left in me. "Damn, you must be hard of hearing because we... are not going anywhere."

Lucan scoffed, "We?"

I closed my eyes, sighing deeply. "Come on... Come on... Come on... We got this... CAI!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, shocking even the crowd and Lucan.

He wasn't shocked for long. "Yes, call out to your god because it's time to die!"

In the depths of my mind, I felt it—a presence, a familiar power. It was as if I was a tiny being in a vast sea of darkness. "Finally, I have once again found you!" Cai's voice echoed in my mind. A bright red light swarmed around me, filling me with a renewed sense of power.

"Let me take over for a moment, you will enjoy this," Cai said. I allowed it, surrendering control as Lucan took a swipe at me. Suddenly, I dodged effortlessly, as if guided by an unseen force. The crowd fell silent, their jeers turning to gasps of shock as I deftly evaded Lucan's attacks.

"CAI, you're back," I thought.

"Hold on," Cai replied. "I ain't going to be able to pull this off long. Just sit back and stay quiet. Remember, pain can become a weapon if you stop feeling it and start using it."

I found myself moving with an agility and precision I had never known. Dodging Lucan's strikes, I felt a strange sense of calm amidst the chaos. The crowd's disbelief was palpable, their cheers replaced by stunned silence.

"Enough fun," Cai shouted through my possessed body. "You will confess your sins!"

Lucan infuriated, pointed his sword at me. "No, I have had enough of you!"

Drawing upon the power within me, I felt a surge of energy. From the top of my lungs, Cai shouted.

"ROOM!" 

Slamming my hands down, a strange force rippled through the arena, forming a barrier that held Lucan in his tracks.

The crowd gasped, their eyes wide with fear and awe. Lucan struggled against the invisible force, his movements halted.

The arena's roar faded into a chilling silence as I summoned the ROOM. A blinding light engulfed us, searing the senses and leaving the spectators in a state of confusion and fear. The energy crackled and hummed, twisting reality around us. The oppressive heat and stench of the arena vanished, replaced by the sterile, cold atmosphere of an office room materializing from thin air.

This was no ordinary office. It was a labyrinth of cubicles, each one a miniature cell of torment. The fluorescent lights flickered erratically, casting harsh, artificial light that clashed with shadows of barely visible darkness. The walls seemed to pulse with malevolent energy, shifting from the pristine white of an ordinary office to the twisted, blood-streaked walls of a nightmare.

The cubicles were cramped and claustrophobic, each one filled with broken remnants of humanity. Desks were cluttered with stacks of papers, their edges stained with dark, crimson smears. Computer screens flickered with static, displaying distorted images of agony and despair. The floor was littered with discarded files and shattered dreams, the remnants of countless souls who had been consumed by this hellish place.

Lucan stood frozen, his eyes wide with horror. The room's transformation was beyond his comprehension. He could barely process the shift from the bright, sterile light to the oppressive, suffocating darkness that flickered in and out of existence. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick with the scent of decay and the echoes of tormented screams.

Pain and despair permeated the space, seeping into every corner, every crevice. The atmosphere was heavy, and oppressive, crushing the spirit and draining the will to fight. Lucan's bravado faltered, his confident facade crumbling under the weight of this surreal horror.

"Lucan..." I called out, my voice echoing through the twisted maze of cubicles. The sound was distorted, layered with a chorus of agonized whispers. I stepped out from behind a cubicle, my movements slow and deliberate. The possession by Cai gave me an otherworldly presence, my eyes glowing with a malevolent light.

Lucan's face twisted in confusion and fear. "What... what are you?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

Outside the ROOM, the spectators were left in a state of bewilderment and terror. The judges, once so confident and authoritative, now looked uncertain and afraid. The royal members were being evacuated in haste, their fear palpable as they glanced back at the arena, unsure of what was unfolding.

The walls of the ROOM pulsated with an eerie rhythm, the fluorescent lights flickering in and out, revealing glimpses of a true hell. Chains hung from the ceilings, their ends hooked with barbed wire, dripping with fresh blood. The sounds of typing and tortured wails mingled in a dissonant symphony, creating an atmosphere of pure, unrelenting dread.

"You cannot escape," I continued, my voice resonating with Cai's power. "You will confess your sins, or face the true extent of this nightmare."

Lucan's sword trembled in his hand, his eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. The shadows seemed to reach out for him, their inky tendrils curling around his legs, pulling him deeper into the despair of the ROOM.

"No," Lucan whispered, his voice cracking. "This can't be real."

"Oh, it's very real," I replied, stepping closer. The air around us grew colder, the shadows deepening. "You will confess, Lucan. You will reveal your treachery."

Lucan, driven by desperation, tried to attack me anyway. His face contorted with rage, he lunged forward, sword raised for a killing blow. I stood still, my eyes locked on his.

With a single word, "No," chains erupted from the darkness, wrapping around his arm and stopping the sword mid-swing. The chains squeezed and bound him, pulling him back and rendering him helpless.

The audience gasped in shock and horror, their cheers turning to cries of disbelief. Lucan struggled against the chains, his eyes wide with fear.

"Tell them the truth!" I demanded, my voice cold and commanding.

As I allowed the walls to fade and the ROOM to vanish, the chains remained, binding Lucan tightly. The spectators were stunned, their faces pale and horrified. I raised a horn to my lips, my voice echoing through the arena.

"Lady Morgana!" I shouted, the horn amplifying my voice. "HEAR ME! Your protector has been deceiving you!"

Lucan, still bound by the chains, screamed into the horn. "I sold half of the potion! The rest is hidden! It wasn't far—it's with a guard I trusted, who has also betrayed you!"

Lady Morgana's face was a mask of denial and shock. "No... it can't be true," she muttered.

Lucan begged pathetically for his life, revealing the names and locations of his co-conspirators. "Please, spare me! I'll tell you everything!"

The crowd was horrified. The realization that the coup was bigger than anyone had assumed sent waves of panic through the arena. Several guards, loyal to Lucan, stormed the Colosseum to rescue him.

"You all will die if you continue," I warned them, my voice carrying a cold promise of retribution.

Ignoring my warning, they charged. I summoned the ROOM once more, the oppressive office of horrors re-emerging around us. The transition was jarring, the bright arena morphing into a labyrinth of shadows and flickering fluorescent lights. Cubicles appeared, their walls stained with dark, crimson smears. The scent of decay filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.

"Rip them all to shambles!" I screamed, my voice echoing with Cai's power.

Chains erupted from every corner, each one a serpent of iron and malice. They snaked through the air, their movements fluid and deliberate, wrapping around the charging guards. The chains were alive with dark energy, their metal glinting ominously in the dim light.

The first guard let out a blood-curdling scream as a chain pierced through his armor, wrapping tightly around his torso and yanking him into the air. Others followed, their cries of agony blending into a macabre symphony. The chains showed no mercy, tearing flesh from bone, and dismembering limbs with brutal efficiency.

As the last of the guards fell, the ROOM began to dissipate, the oppressive atmosphere lifting. The cubicles faded away, leaving only the broken bodies and the echoes of their screams. Blood pooled on the arena floor, a stark contrast to the bright daylight that had seemed so ordinary just moments before.

Lucan lay on the ground, bound and defeated. His face was a mask of despair and regret, his eyes wide with the realization of his imminent doom. The arena was silent, the spectators too stunned to react. They had witnessed something beyond their comprehension, a power that defied their understanding of reality.