"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.
{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.
Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for a time. The risk, however, was immense. A user with advanced spatial manipulation could bypass nearly any lock, shield, or barrier. Worse, they could create a portal inside someone’s body to kill them instantly. The only reason the Trinarian fighter hadn't done so earlier was due to a lack of precise absolute coordinates for the Colosseum. This had forced him into guesswork, resulting in a portal close to Aron but not in his body—a dangerous oversight on the fighter’s part.
“We can inject some nanomachines beforehand as a countermeasure in case he turns uncontrollable and deal with him the moment he shows signs of doing so,” Aron suggested, his voice calm and measured. “Also, we can keep him far away from the solar system, ensuring he won’t have the range to hop to Earth immediately if he decides to cause chaos. Keeping him alive allows us to conduct experiments and testing that we can’t do with a dead subject.”
{I understand, but you should also realize that he is one of the few individuals capable of killing you, even with your shield. Keeping someone like that close is an unnecessary risk,} Nova responded, revealing the source of her concern. This was the first time that the instinct embedded within her core programming—to protect Aron—was fully engaged. In the past, Aron had always maintained his shield, or had it ready to activate at a moment's notice. Nova, too, could activate it herself if she detected any immediate danger, ensuring his safety. But now, with an individual capable of breaching that defense, her directives became more complex. The seed code had begun to reconsider its stance, adding weight to her concerns whenever she took action.
“To tame a lion, you must enter the cage,” Aron replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was amusement in his tone as he realized the source of her worry. The irony of the situation didn’t escape him. It was rare for Nova to sound so protective, and the thought was almost amusing. But at the same time, it helped him cement his decision to keep the Trinarian alive. Alive, he could study him further, use him as leverage, and possibly prevent becoming dependent on the Trinarian should his future plan include needing help from them by using him as the one to do what he would have needed the Trinairan's aid.
Without hesitation, Aron cut another piece from his trousers, encasing it in a shield bubble and sending it toward the Trinarian. He wasn’t about to get any closer to the fighter without a countermeasure in place, no matter how unconscious the Trinarian appeared.
As the shield bubble arrived at the fighter, Aron deactivated it, allowing the fabric to fall gently over the Trinarian’s body. Immediately, the nanomachines embedded within the fabric began their work, burrowing into the fighter’s body and traveling toward his head, where they would begin their data-gathering and monitoring process.
“It would have been nice if I could have just sent you out of the shield, but the referee AI will not allow that to happen during the fight, so please bear with it,” Aron said in his mind. Although Nova had intended to use that as a last resort means of surrendering should verbal surrender fail, she was planning to achieve it by blasting through the shield —nothing that could be resolved simply by asking the AI referee to open it for her. The rules only allowed for that if someone could find a way to exit the shield, much like the Trinarian’s attempt to send him out through portals. That was a valid strategy within the confines of the rules, unlike the option to simply leave on request.
With that apology voiced, Aron moved swiftly. He materialized a shield in the form of a sword, its edges honed to a razor's sharpness capable of cutting through anything. Without hesitation, he approached the unconscious Trinarian, slicing off the head cleanly. Immediately after, he encased both the decapitated head and the body within a protective shield, pumping healing runes into them to prevent death and to maintain the integrity of the body for potential reconnection later. The Trinarian’s life was suspended in this state—alive, but preserved—awaiting whatever would come next.{Match over. Winner: Terran Empire, Aron Michael,} The AI referee's announcement echoed, marking the conclusion of the intense match.
"I missed this sound," Aron murmured with a smile, as the familiar voice of the AI referee brought him back to reality. It had been a long time since he had heard those words, especially after the unknown time he spent in that strange place the system had sent him to.
The viewers from the Terran Empire were a mix of relief and celebration. Many could be heard thanking God for answering their prayers, their voices filled with gratitude. Yet, there were a handful of dissenters, those who finally realised what they had promised god in return for saving the emperor. Some of them swore to go back on their promises to God, regretting their words in the heat of the moment. The empire's unity was briefly shaken, but the overall atmosphere remained one of triumph.
In stark contrast, the viewers from the Astral Conclave were left in a state of complete shock and disbelief. The reaction from their ranks was chaotic, particularly among those races that had hair—some were practically pulling it out in frustration. For those whose species lacked hair, the situation was no less dramatic; instead, they resorted to gnashing their teeth, or using whatever natural appendage or trait they had to express their dismay. They had been certain that Aron’s apparent damage would be his downfall. But when they saw him not only survive the impossible but recover fully as if nothing had ever happened, the collective astonishment among the Conclave was palpable.
This was no longer just a losing streak; the creature they were facing had become something far more terrifying. Capable of returning from death given enough time, he made an unimaginable comeback, further amplifying his fearsome reputation. With each display of recovery from increasingly difficult positions, his invincible image grew, cementing him as the most terrifying figure they could face. To make matters worse, he was the leader of his civilization, wielding diplomatic power that no ordinary individual could match. This elevated him beyond just a military threat—he was now a political force too, making any attempt on his life a dangerous gamble that could spark far-reaching consequences.
They had already experienced something similar with the Xor'Vak civilization, and nothing positive could be said about dealing with them when they wanted something. Though they often presented themselves diplomatically, it was like a teacher asking to borrow your pen—you didn't really have a choice but to give it, no matter your reservations.
With his recovery, Aron had solidified his position within that group, which now included his civilization, making it a two-member group regardless of the outcome of his next fight with the other member of the group, the Xor’Vak.
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