Solo Dungeon Runner

Alexander slowly got up, only to be kicked back down.

He felt one of his ribs breaking as he rolled a meter back, coming to a stop while facing the sky.

Streak slowly approached, satisfaction showing through his face as he watched Alexander stay down.

The cheers, the announcer, the crowd, it was all further away.

It was all muted, in the background.

"Not so smug now," said Streak.

He kept stepping forward, before coming to a stop.

Then, moved by a split-second reaction, he side-stepped and punched a chain that silently appeared out of a rift on his right.

Despite the chain going off-course, Alexander summoned another spacial rift where it headed.

In a matter of seconds, it had gone through a dozen rifts around Streak, chains completely circling him.

Alexander slowly got up as chains kept spiraling in and out of rifts, revealing a rift on the ground, where his palm rested a moment earlier.

Streak then recalled one of his knives to his hand, and with one vertical movement he cut through the chains, stepping forward through the conjured cage.

"This it?" said Streak.

Alexander glanced at the crowd, then at Streak.

That spell on his tongue was obviously not something he had cast himself. He might have been a specialist, that spell was clearly someone else's. How he had gone through security with it was an entirely different question.

Even he had to submit to the check-up everyday as he entered the stadium, before his matches.

And the magic it used, the symbols it displayed.

It was a sigil.

Different from the one he had found on the ground, but similar.

"So, who gave you that sigil?" asked Alexander.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied, chuckling.

Alexander glanced out, yet it seemed like their words weren't echoed through the speakers.

There was no reaction from Sunder, Titan, or anyone else.

He then stared down his opponent.

Do I use it now? I was supposed to hold off until I faced higher-tier guilds, but I doubt I'll make it if I don't.

"What now? You kill me by mistake?" said Alexander.

"He didn't want you dead, but we'll call it an accident."

"Who's 'he'? Xcxul?"

Streak just eerily smiled, his face contorted by some sort of pleasure he was getting out of the situation.

His eyes were bloodshot, and the way he heavily breathed looked rabid.

He wasn't the same person he met earlier.

Alexander slowly raised his staff toward Streak, whose smile grew larger, and more devious.

"Again?" he said, chuckling. "You think you have a chance? That you can look down on me? Your spells won't hit me."

He didn't bother turning the knives invisible, he had them floating and describing circles around his body.

"I'm not casting a spell, I'm stopping one."

He then hit his staff on the ground, closing his eyes for a moment.

He felt the connection sever, it was now a matter of time.

"You think you'll be able to turn this fight around?" he said.

Alexander's smile matched Streak's, slightly taken by surprise by his composure.

"The spell I just stopped, it's called 'sacrifice'," he said.

Streak remained still, unsure of what Alexander talked about.

"That won't change anything," he said, doubt flickering through his mind.

"See, I have this companion who's completing dungeons as we speak. Dealing with people like you doesn't require her to be around, I can take out the trash myself. That's why, since this tournament started, I've been sacrificing my stats, gifting them to her."

Streak slightly chuckled, trying to shrug it off and show disbelief.

"You think I'll believe…"

"What you believe doesn't matter. The question is, do you think you can measure up? Are you as strong as a B-tier dungeon, E-tier dungeon runner Streak? Do you believe you can offer me a worthy fight?"

Streak signaled his knives forward, all beelining toward Alexander.

His movement was fluid, effortless. He deflected each of them with a minimal move of his staff, creating a series of clinking sound as they were redirected off-course.

"I didn't even get all my stats back yet, is this it? Did Xcxul gift you any more sigils? Now might be a good time to use them, because I'm only getting stronger, and eventually, my companion is going to arrive. Can you even hold until then?"

Alexander raised his staff, covering the stage with blooming rifts. Tendrils cascaded out, all thrashing around in Streak's direction.

He did his best to dodge them, jumping backward and in-between rifts to narrowly escape them.

He tried using his flying knives to cut through some of them, the blades unable to significantly damage the tendrils.

The first one finally connected, pushing through Streak's defense and propelling him backward into another one that slammed into his back, sending him to the ground.

More tendrils joined in on the action, yet he managed to roll away. He ran through the stage, Alexander could see him glancing at the exit.

"Oh, thinking of leaving?" he said.

Streak's knives flew in-between the tendrils, avoiding collision with them while heading for Alexander.

He could feel the desperation in Streak's moves. He dashed to leave the stage, yet stopped on a dime mid-way.

The knives that flew all stopped as well, eerily standing still.

It felt as if the air had suddenly turned colder, even the crowd's cheers slowly weakened.

The tendrils slowly retracted. He could feel it, something that slightly reminded him of himself.

It happened in a flash, Sunder and Titan jumped out of the stands and landed on the stage.

Titan was talking on the phone, while Sunder arrived in-between him and Streak.

The magic circles in his eyes pulsated quickly, something reminding him of the first day he ever met him.

A large golden circle appeared under Streak, golden chains appeared out of it and latched onto him while reeling into the ground, holding him tightly against it.

Sunder then turned around, his gaze meeting Alexander's.

"Have you seen it?" he asked.

"What's happening? Seen what?"

"The sigil. The nightmare sigil, you've seen it?" he asked again.

Alexander pointed toward Streak. "On his tongue."

Titan laid the phone against his shoulder, and walked to Streak. He opened his mouth and looked inside, before turning to Sunder and nodding.

Sunder turned to Alexander once more.

"You won't like this," he said.

Sunder walked toward Alexander, and slowly approached two fingers toward his eyes.

Magic circles hovered right before the tip. He reactively jerked his head back, yet Sunder's other hand tightly held onto his head.

"What are you doing?" asked Alexander.

"I'll brand your eyes. It'll hurt. A lot. On the bright sight, you who specializes in sight will see things even more clearly."

Alexander stared at the circles approaching his eyes.

"Why?!"

Sunder sighed.

"The nightmare sigil is a spell that activates once seen. I did plan on branding your eyes after the tournament, but I guess that was too late."

Alexander tried assimilating everything told to him, he could see in the background officials directing spectators out.

The announcer, and even the referee walked away. Nobody was happy about it, most making a fuss, but ultimately facing no other choice but to comply.

"What does this nightmare sigil even do?" he asked.

Sunder paused a moment, lowering his hand.

"First, you'll start seeing things. Things that aren't real. This very conversation might not even be real. It starts with small details, the color of my eyes or the clouds in the sky; but in becomes worse over time. You'll see monsters, walking nightmare that'll stop at nothing to kill you."

"Illusions?" asked Alexander.

"The monsters you'll see appearing will truly try to hurt you, and if you try to defend yourself you'll start killing innocents. If you don't fight back, you could simply die. The spell slowly pulls you into his inner path, and reality starts shifting, bending, until you're fully pulled into it."

Alexander's eyes went to the sky, sudden shadows were cast upon the stadium.

As his attention diverted, Sunder quickly pressed his fingers into his eyes.

The pain he felt was unlike any other. The rune on his chest, even when fully ablaze was pale in comparison.

It felt like white hot needles had punctured them, making them boil.

And he held them there for a good moment.

Alexander reactively pushed back, yet Sunder's iron grasp didn't even flinch, holding firmly.

His mind was about to go blank, until Sunder finally let go.

When he opened his eyes, it felt as if a filter had been applied to them.

Through the pain, his eyes barely discerned anything as a thick white fog clouded his vision.

He could barely even see Sunder who stood right before him.

"You'll adjust to it," said Sunder.

Alexander stumbled backward, fighting for balance while rubbing his eyes that felt like they were melting in their sockets.

As his vision progressively returned, one thing persisted: the darkness in the sky.

Sunder was already further away, by Titan's side.

Only one thought echoed through Alexander's mind.

"Fae."