Kingdom Hearts: Consumed by Darkness

The air in the Colosseum was electric—not with magic, not with the echoes of the crowd who were holding their breath, but with pure, deadly intent.

Helios and Sephiroth stood across from each other, their weapons lowered but their bodies coiled like springs, every muscle prepared to strike or defend in an instant.

Their magic was spent. Their bodies were battered but their resolve was unshaken.

No teleportation. No spells. No tricks.

Just steel against steel.

Then—

They moved.

Sephiroth struck first.

His Masamune whipped forward in a flash of silver, slicing down in a clean arc meant to split Helios from shoulder to hip.

Helios reacted instantly.

He crossed his dual Keyblades, catching the impossibly long sword between them. Sparks erupted as the steel clashed, the sheer force of Sephiroth's attack pushing Helios back, his feet scraping against the stone.

Sephiroth then twisted his wrist—Masamune slid along the Keyblades, redirecting the force to flick Helios' guard open.

Helios' eyes widened as his guard was completely broken. The attack that followed was simply too fast—

SLASH!

A deep cut tore across Helios' ribs, blood spraying onto the stone.

But Helios didn't falter. Instead, he stepped into the pain, twisting his body and slashing his Dark Keyblade toward Sephiroth's exposed flank.

Sephiroth barely dodged, tilting his body to the side, but the tip of the Keyblade caught his coat, slicing clean through it.

A single line of blood appeared on his waist.

The first drop of Sephiroth's blood had fallen on this stage.

The crowd gasped.

But neither fighter paid attention.

Sephiroth's blade became a blur.

Helios had no time to think—only react. A slash came for his throat—he leaned back, the steel missing by mere inches. A stab aimed for his heart—he twisted, the blade tearing through the air where he had just been.

Helios countered with a wide arc—Sephiroth parried with unbelievable precision, flicking Masamune just enough to redirect the strike.

Their movements were a dance of death. A single mistake would mean death for one of them but this didn't stop them as they attacked with the intent to kill.

A blade came. A block met it. A counter followed. Another dodge.

Faster. More brutal. More precise.

Neither hesitated. Neither let up.

Then—

Sephiroth sidestepped and suddenly swung low.

Helios barely saw it in time—he jumped, but the blade ripped into his thigh, tearing the muscle.

His landing was unstable. His leg screamed in pain as blood dripped down his jeans.

Sephiroth saw it.

And he capitalized instantly.

Helios raised his Keyblades just in time to block a crushing overhead slash.

But the impact was unbearable as the shock of the blow traveled throughout his whole body. His arms shook. His bones groaned under the pressure.

And then came another.

Then another.

Then another.

Sephiroth's onslaught was relentless. Each attack was faster, sharper, and heavier.

Every attempted counter from Helios was smothered, redirected, or broken before it even began.

His body was being sliced apart.

His shoulder split open from a near miss.

His cheek was carved by a shallow but stinging cut.

His left forearm barely deflected a stab, but the tip still pierced his skin, blood dripping to the ground.

And then—

Sephiroth turned the tide completely.

Helios swung, aiming for Sephiroth's ribs.

Sephiroth stepped inside his range—too close for Helios to swing again. And then a sudden knee to the gut followed. Helios gagged, his breath leaving him in a violent burst.

But Sephiroth wasn't done.

With inhuman force, he drove his elbow into Helios' wounded shoulder.

BONES CRACKED.

Pain exploded down Helios' arm. His vision blurred.

And then—Masamune came.

A precise, cutting arc—not fatal, but crippling.

Helios barely managed to twist away, but the tip of the blade still sliced deep into his side.

Blood gushed out, spilling onto the battlefield.

Helios' legs buckled.

For the first time in the fight, he fell to one knee.

Silence.

The entire Colosseum held its breath.

Helios forced himself to move.

He lifted his Keyblades—his grip weak, his arms heavy.

Sephiroth walked forward, his steps measured, calculated.

Masamune raised.

Helios growled. "Not… yet."

He pushed himself forward—one final, desperate attack.

But Sephiroth was faster.

CRACK!

The Masamune's hilt slammed against Helios' chest, knocking the wind from him.

Helios stumbled—

And then, with a single flawless stroke, Sephiroth slashed across Helios' torso.

Not deep enough to kill—

But enough to end the fight.

Helios collapsed to his knees.

His vision flickered.

His grip on his Keyblades weakened.

And then—his weapons vanished in streams of light and darkness.

Sephiroth exhaled.

He lowered Masamune, his expression unreadable.

Helios remained on the ground, gasping, bleeding, his strength completely gone.

And then—

"WE HAVE OUR WINNER!"

Phil's voice boomed over the Colosseum.

"SEPHIROTH REMAINS THE ADVANCED TOURNAMENT CHAMPION!"

The crowd erupted.

Cheers, roars, applause.

And yet—Sephiroth did not celebrate.

He simply looked down at Helios, his eyes narrowing slightly.

And then, ever so subtly, his gaze flickered to his own wounds.

His body—his coat, his arms, even his cheek—bore more injuries than ever before.

He had won.

But this was the most damage he had taken in a single fight.

A flicker of acknowledgment passed through his expression.

Then—without another word—he turned and walked away.

Leaving Helios on the bloodstained stone, still breathing, but utterly defeated.

Sephiroth flicked his blade to the side, scattering droplets of crimson before sheathing Masamune in a dimensional space in one fluid motion.

The priestess standing in the VIP area finally lowered her hands, and with a pulse of golden energy, the barrier surrounding the arena faded.

Sephiroth walked off the stage without another glance at his opponent, his steps silent despite the battle he had just endured.

And as he passed, Phil rushed forward. "Kid! You still alive?!"

Phil skidded to his knees beside Helios, his usually confident demeanor shaken as he hovered over the young fighter.

For a second, there was no response.

Then—

A weak, hoarse chuckle.

Helios cracked a bloody smirk, wincing as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his battered body.

"Yeah…" He exhaled, voice barely above a whisper. "Still alive. I think. If not then death really hurts."

Phil groaned, rubbing his temples. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Helios chuckled again. "I get that a lot."

Before Phil could respond, the priestess knelt beside them.

A soft golden glow surrounded Helios' body, his wounds slowly closing as divine magic seeped into his flesh. The pain eased—but it wasn't enough.

The moment he felt even a fraction of his magic return, Helios lifted a shaky hand and cast Cura over himself.

A burst of green light rippled outward.

His body repaired itself instantly.

Muscles knitted back together, deep wounds closed, and color returned to his face.

Phil stared. "You had healing magic this whole time?"

Helios grinned. "Figured I'd let you worry a little."

Phil groaned. "Next time, just pass out, will ya?"

From the side, Hercules approached, shaking his head with a bemused expression."That fight was incredible but you really should take better care of yourself."

Helios grinned up at him. "Can't get stronger without risking injury. Besides there are things in life that important enough to risk your life for. I'm sure you'll find one in the future."

The demigod extended an arm, and Helios—still a bit unsteady—accepted it.

Hercules draped Helios' arm over his shoulder, providing him with the support he needed to walk off the stage.

The crowd continued roaring, some still cheering Sephiroth's name, while others were simply in awe of the battle they had just witnessed.

Helios waved lazily at the audience, muttering, "Tough crowd."

Phil snorted. "You did cheat your way through every match before this one."

Helios laughed but winced again, clutching his ribs. "Fair."

The competitor's lounge was quiet when Helios and Hercules entered.

There, seated in the corner with his arms crossed and eyes closed, was Sephiroth.

His wounds were still visible, but despite that, his presence remained unshaken.

Helios sighed, rolling his shoulders as he cast Cura once more—

A warm glow enveloped Sephiroth.

For a moment, the silver-haired warrior did not react.

Then, slowly, he opened his eyes, glancing at Helios with something unreadable in his expression.

"You should have healed yourself first," he finally said.

Helios stretched his newly repaired arms and grinned. "Already did."

There was a brief pause before Sephiroth looked away, closing his eyes again.

That was the closest thing to a 'thank you' Helios was probably going to get.

Helios chuckled and flopped down into a nearby chair. "Alright. Time to go collect our winnings."

Phil and Hercules had been silent up until now, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

Finally, Phil couldn't take it anymore.

"You two just tried to kill each other, and now you're acting like you're best friends!"

Helios laughed.

Even Sephiroth—though he didn't move—let out the faintest sound, almost a quiet exhale of amusement.

Helios smirked at Phil. "Our relationship wouldn't change even if we did kill each other."

Phil gawked.

Hercules sighed, shaking his head. "Weirdos."