Chapter Text
The Stadium in Natlan was filled with a charged silence, a tension thick enough to suffocate.
Mavuika, the Pyro Archon, towered at the center, her claymore blazing with sunlit fury. Facing her, the Captain—Capitano—stood, his once pristine coat now discarded, revealing the black bodysuit beneath, his long black hair spilling from his helmet. His glowing dark blue eyes pierced through the flames, his breath shallow, chest heaving.
Ororon watched from the shadows, unnoticed by the crowd that gathered in awe of the duel. His heart pounded as he tracked every movement, every strike.
Though he tried to remain indifferent, something about this confrontation drew him in. It wasn’t just the raw power displayed by the two giants. It was the unspoken connection between them, something that Ororon couldn’t quite place, yet felt deeply drawn to.
Then, it happened—the final clash.
The Pyro Archon and the Captain drew back their fists, unleashing a powerful punch that sent shockwaves reverberating across the battlefield. Flames and smoke erupted from the impact, and for a brief moment, the Stadium seemed to quake under the weight of their combined strength.
But the next sound that echoed across the arena was not of triumph. It was a heavy, defeated exhale.
Through the haze of smoke, Ororon saw him—Capitano—fall to his knees, his chest aflame, the fire licking at his armor as if to consume him. His helmeted face tilted downward, as though even he wasn’t immune to the scorching power of Natlan’s Archon. His body, decayed and weakened by the curse, could no longer withstand the onslaught.
Mavuika stood over him, her fist raised once more, ready to deliver the final blow. The flames reflected in her eyes, and in that moment, it was as though Natlan’s burning spirit stood ready to claim her enemy’s life. But something shifted in the air. A hesitation.
Ororon felt it—an instinct to act.
Before his mind could catch up with his body, he was moving, rushing through the thick smoke toward the crumbling figure of the Captain.
He reached Capitano just as Mavuika’s fist came crashing down, and with a surge of adrenaline, Ororon grabbed him, pulling him away from the devastating blow.
The explosion that followed was deafening. Flames roared across the Stadium, engulfing the area where Capitano had once knelt. Ororon shielded the Captain’s limp body from the worst of it, dragging him into the shadowed recesses of the arena before anyone could spot them.
In the smoldering silence that followed, Ororon knelt beside Capitano’s charred, unmoving form. The Captain’s armor was cracked, revealing glimpses of his decaying flesh beneath. His breathing was shallow, his body burned from the clash. Yet, even now, Ororon could sense the power within him—faint, but unmistakable.
"Why did I save you?" Ororon muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the flames.
His gaze lingered on the Captain’s helmet, wondering what lay beneath the cold mask that obscured his face.
And then, in the stillness of that moment, the question that had haunted Ororon since the duel began returned to him, sharper than ever: Who are you really, Capitano?
But perhaps, more importantly—Who am I to you?