Legacy's Wake

Temoshí braced himself, the weight of Aurelio's words still echoing in his mind. He could feel the strange tug of misfortune creeping in, clouding his thoughts, sapping the strength from his every move. His flames, once vibrant and powerful, flickered weakly in his hands, as if the wheel had decided that today was not the day for victory.

He charged forward, trying to close the distance between himself and Jactur. His fists were clenched, ready to strike, but his foot slipped on the slick floor just as he was about to land the blow. He stumbled, his body crashing against the ground with a painful thud.

"Dammit!" he cursed, pushing himself back up. The laughter of Aurelio echoed through the speakers, mocking his every move.

"What's the matter, captain? Having a little trouble with the odds? You see, luck has a way of slipping through your fingers when you need it most."

Temoshí gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself. His legs were shaking, his body bruised and sore, but he couldn't give up now. His orange flames flared once more, but as he swung them forward, they sputtered and fizzled, dying out before they could even touch Jactur.

"No... not now," he muttered to himself, frustration and desperation creeping into his voice. "Why is it like this? I can't even control my own flames. This isn't me... This is the wheel."

The puppet lurched forward, its heavy limbs swinging down with terrifying force. Temoshí ducked under the first swing, but as he tried to roll out of the way, his foot got caught in a metal grate on the floor. He stumbled, and before he could react, Jactur's massive foot stomped down beside him, missing by inches but sending a shockwave of pressure through the ground that sent him sprawling backward.

"Ha! This game really is too easy," Aurelio taunted, his voice laced with amusement. "You think you're the one controlling this fight, captain? But you've already lost. I told you, luck decides everything here. You don't stand a chance."

Temoshí clenched his fists, staring up at Jactur, feeling his body grow heavier with each passing moment. Every time he moved, every time he tried to summon his flames or dodge, something went wrong. His own instincts, his own skill, were being twisted and warped by the unseen hand of misfortune.

"Dammit!" he yelled again, slamming his fist into the ground in frustration. "This is ridiculous!"

He stood shakily, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could feel his energy draining, his body becoming sluggish as the weight of failure pressed down on him. But even with the odds stacked against him, he couldn't just let this puppet crush him. He had to find a way to break free from the wheel's influence.

"I've gotta learn this stupid luck game," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Aurelio's got control of the wheel, but no way I can let it control me."

Aurelio's voice rang out again, dripping with condescension. "You think you've figured it out, captain? You can't fight fate. No one can. Every move you make, every choice you try to control, is decided by the wheel. You can't escape it."

Temoshí's eyes narrowed, determination flashing through him despite the pain and frustration that clouded his mind. "You think I'm just going to roll over and let you control everything? You're wrong, Aurelio. I don't care how twisted this game is. I'll break it. I'll burn this wooden brute!"

He tried to push forward once again, but this time, something else happened. As his foot hit the ground, the very floor beneath him cracked open, a small pit forming just where he had stepped. He misjudged his next move, falling sideways into the hole. His momentum carried him into another trap, and he slammed painfully into the side of the arena wall.

Aurelio's laughter filled the arena, growing louder and more sinister. "Do you see now, captain? Everything you do leads to failure. You can't outrun the wheel. You can't fight your luck."

Temoshí groaned in pain, his body battered, but his resolve remained strong. He pushed himself up from the ground, the flames flickering weakly in his hands.

"Just... shut... up," he spat, voice hoarse but defiant. "Luck may be a damn game to you, but I'm not playing by your rules anymore."

In that moment, he could feel it—the pull of fate trying to crush him under its weight. But there was something else too. A stubbornness, a defiance against the odds. He was starting to understand the rules of this twisted game. He just needed to take control.

Aurelio's voice came through the speakers once more, dripping with mock sympathy. "Oh, captain. I admire your persistence, but luck doesn't care about your stubbornness. The wheel spins, and that's the end of the story. You're just a pawn in the game."

Temoshí clenched his fists again, his orange flames burning a little brighter as he rose to his feet. "Shut up already! Your voice disgusts me!"

He charged forward, despite the weight of misfortune pressing down on him. His body was aching, his movements sluggish, but he refused to stop. His flames, weak as they were, blazed in front of him, flickering like a dying ember in the wind. But with every step, the odds seemed to shift. The wheel's influence seemed to falter—just for a second.

"No way that I'll let luck control me," he muttered under his breath. "It's my turn to spin the wheel."

He slammed his foot into the ground, summoning every last bit of strength he had left. The ground beneath him cracked, his flames flaring up like a sudden storm of orange light. For a brief, fleeting moment, the weight of misfortune lifted, and with a roar, his flames surged, wrapping around his body like a protective cloak.

But the question remained—was it enough to beat the game of luck that Aurelio had set into motion?

Temoshí gritted his teeth, feeling the heat of the flames surge out of control, wrapping around him like a burning snake. The flames weren't feeding his power like they usually did. Instead, they were consuming him. His own strength was turning against him.

His eyes widened as the intense heat began to sear into his skin. "No... this can't be happening," he muttered, gritting his teeth through the pain. The flames were wild, out of control, and he couldn't seem to stop them. His body burned, his muscles tightening in agony as the fire crackled across his clothes, his skin, his hair.

He staggered backward, gasping for air, trying to put out the flames with his hands, but each movement only seemed to fuel the fire more. His arms were scorched, the raw burns spreading across his body as he struggled to control the pain.

Aurelio's voice came through the speakers, dripping with satisfaction. "Ah, captain, do you see now? Luck isn't on your side. You wanted to break free from the wheel, but now you're just a victim of your own flames. Every step you take is your own undoing."

Temoshí's eyes burned with determination, even through the pain. He refused to let Aurelio see him crumble, to see him give in. "I'm not finished yet," he spat, his voice raw. "I'll find a way… I'll fight through this."

The fire licked at his face, his limbs. His legs buckled beneath him as he fell to one knee, the weight of the flames nearly overwhelming him. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with the ash and soot. It was like the arena itself was against him, pushing him to the edge of exhaustion and beyond.

But still, he refused to yield.

As he struggled to breathe through the searing pain, he clenched his fists, trying to summon whatever strength he had left. But every attempt to summon his flames ended in a violent burst of orange fire that only hurt him more. The heat scorched his hands, his arms. He couldn't control it. He couldn't even summon a flame for a counterattack.

"Look at you," Aurelio taunted from the speakers. "Pathetic. Do you really think you can win this fight? The wheel has already decided your fate, captain. You can't outrun it."

Temoshí's head spun. He could barely keep his balance. His body felt as though it was on the verge of breaking, his muscles sore from the continuous battle. The only thing keeping him upright was sheer stubbornness, an undying will that refused to accept defeat. His vision blurred from the smoke and the intensity of the pain, but through it, his mind remained clear—this fight wasn't over yet.

With what little strength he could muster, he stood back up, unsteady and burning, his body trembling from the effort. "You think you've won, Aurelio?" he rasped. "You think you can control me with luck? I don't care if I'm burning alive. I won't fall for your game."

The flames around him continued to ravage his body, but the last shred of his resolve refused to let go. The arena might have cursed him with its misfortune, but he was still standing. And as long as he was standing, he wouldn't stop fighting.

His breath came in ragged gasps, but his eyes burned with the fire of defiance. "I can't believe... My own fire... it hurts me, so much..."

He staggered forward, each step feeling like a battle, the heat from his own flames almost unbearable. "I'll fight through it," he whispered to himself, the words a promise. "I'll fight until I overtake your wheel, Aurelio."

Aurelio's laughter echoed in the arena, mocking, triumphant. "You think you can break free from fate? You're more than just a fighter, captain. You're a fool."

But Temoshí's mind was made up. His body may be battered, his flames may have turned against him, but he wouldn't stop. Not until he broke Aurelio's grip on this twisted game. His heart pounded in his chest, blood rushing in his ears, and the flames on his body burned hotter than ever.

No matter what it took, he would not let the game end this way.

To be continued...