Blood Band Arena (Last)

"Alban." Last's pleasant voice broke the silence of the room, quickly grabbing Alban's attention. Alban turned his head to the side, letting his profile be seen by the unusually serious gheckla. He contemplated fully facing him for a bit, but decided that the action would be unnecessary. His leftmost eye settled upon Lat's grim countenance, beckoning him to speak further.

"What do ya do if you've personally harmed something ya held dear?"

A small pause. Alban had never thought of that scenario, and his foggy memories were of no use either. Taking some time to think for a minute, he wondered if he had ever experienced such a thing. He soon arrived at his answer, the simplest and most logical one he could think of.

"Nothing really. It's already happened, so what am I supposed to do about it? Isn't it disgraceful to harm something and cry about it like you weren't the one who did it?" Alban's face was entirely neutral as he said this, to the point where it seemed emotionless.

Lat thought it was weird as Alban was generally full of expressions, even if they weren't intentional. Yet here he was, entirely apathetic. Lat didn't let that stop him from saying what he had to, though he noted the strange behavior.

"The people I asked ya yo save? My people? I killed them." Lat's bottom lip was quivering as tears slowly slid down his face. Although he didn't say much, his expression spoke volumes. His fine brows trembled as sweat percolated through his fair skin, his teeth clenched. Though his face was overflowing with a mix of anger and sorrow, his body was completely motionless. His hands laid outstretched, the backside of them merely kissing the ground.

Memories of the happy times he had with his fellow gheckla flashed in his eyes as his tears fell. Though his life was tough and painful, it was not without joy...he only made it this far due to the happiness his community had given him whenever it could. They were everything to him, yet now they were the only thing he had left. Lat was still unable to come to terms with this, his mind continuously skirted the border between denial and acceptance.

"...did you do it to survive?" Alban had no idea what Lat was feeling, unable to understand his sentiment. As far as he could remember he killed and ate to survive, never questioning why he had to. It was quite simple to him, almost as if it was his second nature. Listening to Lat, he started to feel as if something was wrong with him for a long time, only just now noticing it. Those thoughts were then promptly shoved to the side as he realized that way of thinking wouldn't do anything for him.

"I would've given my life and more for them. I didn't kill them on purpose..." Though his voice was unwavering, the same couldn't be said of his face. Lat was halfway to letting his grieving countenance become choked sobs instead, though he reined in his tears the best he could. It wouldn't do to break down right now, not when he had something to do for himself. For everyone he harmed.

"Then what happened?" Alban's voice was still sharp and striking, unsympathetic to Lat's current plight. It wasn't as if he wasn't trying to be considerate, he just thought that no amount of consolation would ease Lat's pain. This wasn't something as innocent as merely falling down or accidentally bumping into someone. It was a taboo, one that could traumatize even a cold hearted criminal to an extent.

"I let them kill me. Repeatedly. My sister didn't like that, I suppose...she killed most of them. Then she used my own hands to kill the rest...I see the blood of my kin under my nails. I feel sick...like everything I've done is worthless. All of the strong people...all of the one who could fight died in the arena today."

Lat's throat locked, the slow and steady breaths he took becoming stale air in his mouth. The memories that ran rampant in his mind became twisted, smiling faces replaced with rabid expressions. Over and over he saw them, the gheckla ripping his body apart, his sister's smiling face, the sensation of goopy blood clotting on each and every one of his fingers. As he looked down at his limp hands, all he saw was green. Before he could continue freaking out, Alban's voice sounded once again.

"I see. So you still have the young and the elderly, right? There are still people for you to protect if you want to." It was a shoddy justification, sure, but it was the only one he had. The fact wouldn't erase anything, though he doubted Lat would give up on them with that kind of information in mind. 'Maybe he already thought about that?' Alban thought.

"No. I'm too ashamed to allow myself near them. I want to go with ya, so I can be strong enough to right my wrongs...can I?" It turned out he had indeed thought about it, as his next reply was so quick it bordered on abrupt. Though Lat was sure what he wanted to do next, he was still comforted by the fact that he and Krista were not the only gheckla left. Children meant a possible future for his people yet and still, the elderly meant that the youths would have proper guidance. Slightly placated by his current train of thought, he patiently awaited Alban's answer.

"...If you want. Though, the first step of correcting your mistakes is accepting them, right? All of those monsters should have been enough to bump you up a class, yeah?" Alban's eye was locked onto the visage of the sorrowful gheckla behind him, his gaze boring deep into him. Although he couldn't relate to Lat, he knew that the path to progression was to keep moving forward. Sitting around in lamentation did absolutely nothing, and he wouldn't let the guy do that if he wanted to follow him so badly. Alban didn't have time to babysit anyone, after all.

"Yeah. Please, everyone. Forgive me." With much hesitation and trepidation, Lat reluctantly accepted Alban's advice. If he wanted to be stronger, he would have to evolve eventually anyways. It was simply how thresholds worked— you wouldn't have one of your body was strong enough to pass it on it's own.

As Lat bit down onto his bottom lip, a bright light washed over his countenance. The bright orb that enveloped him shined a pale yellow, the shape resembling an egg. The light didn't last for long, however, as it was quickly absorbed into Lat's body. While his evolution was still in progress, Alban turned and fully faced the rapidly changing form. He wanted to witness it firsthand, seeking to know even a little of what would happen to him in his next evolution.

The yellow light suffused through Lat's body, the color tracing over his neck, back, and hands. Golden scales formed from his jugular to his back, reaching the middle of his spine. The scales were also on his hands, though they were sparse compared to the scales that settled on his upper torso. Small white wings burst from his back, only slightly above where the scales ended. As white feathers billowed around his form, tears rapidly fell down his cheek. The only remaining change was the yellow light, moving up to his neck and forming a golden hoop quite similar to the collar he once wore. The only difference was that it wasn't tightly bound to his flesh, but the air around it.