The Final Round

The persistent sound of a ringing phone echoed through the silence of the room—an irritating, repetitive noise that abruptly pulled me out of a deep torpor. My eyes opened slowly, heavy, as if they had grown accustomed to the darkness and now rejected the faint morning light.

My mind was still in a foggy state. What had even happened? Gradually, fragments of that dream—or whatever it was—tried to piece themselves together in my head. The infinite darkness, the shadow, the sensation of shaping the impossible… It all felt so real, yet so distant now.

But before I could even begin to organize my thoughts, the sound of my phone brought me back to reality once again.

With a tired sigh, I reached out, feeling the rough fabric of the couch before finally finding the device. The screen's glow forced me to squint, and the name flashing on it made me furrow my brows.

It was my friend.

I hesitated for a moment before answering. Part of me was still stuck in the confusion of the dream, but for some reason, I felt a small sense of relief at seeing something familiar. Without thinking much, I slid my finger across the screen and brought the phone to my ear.

— Hello...? — My voice came out hoarse, heavy with sleep.

On the other end, an energetic and slightly rushed voice responded immediately:

— Finally, man! You're alive? I've been trying to call you for a while.

I closed my eyes for a moment, rubbing my forehead. I was still trying to get my bearings.

— Hm… I fell asleep on the couch. I guess I didn't hear it before.

— You slept on the couch again? Dude, one day your back is going to kill you for that.

I rolled my eyes. Despite his lighthearted tone, my mind kept drifting back to that strange experience. I felt… different. A lingering trace of that absolute emptiness, as if something inside me was trying to reconnect with it.

But now wasn't the time for that.

— What's up? Something happened? — I asked, trying to focus on the conversation.

I didn't know it yet, but that call… would mark the beginning of something much bigger.

My friend's excited voice cut through the phone, pulling me a little further back to reality.

— Dude, did you forget? It's Saturday! Today's the tournament at Hycaros' place! Our Melty Blood Type Lumina championship!

For a moment, my still-groggy brain struggled to process the information. Tournament? Oh… right. We had planned this last week. Hycaros always hosted these small tournaments at his place, and I usually joined, though I wasn't always in the mood for it.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue. I still felt weird. That dream… or whatever it was… clung to my mind like a persistent shadow. But maybe it was best to ignore it for now.

— Ah… — I muttered, trying to sound less lost. — Right. The tournament.

— You forgot, didn't you? — My friend let out a short laugh on the other end.

I sighed, leaning back into the couch.

— Maybe.

— Man, you've been really out of it lately. You sure you're okay?

The question caught me slightly off guard. I hesitated for a second, remembering the shadow, the feeling of being in that strange place. But in the end, I just let out a small, nasal chuckle.

— I'm fine, just woke up.

— Alright then. Take a shower and get over here. Hycaros is probably setting everything up already.

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, still debating whether I even wanted to leave the house. But maybe it'd be good to get my mind off things for a bit.

— Alright, I'm on my way.

— That's the spirit! See you soon.

The call ended with a short beep, and I sat there for a few seconds, staring at the darkened phone screen. Whatever that strange experience had been, there wasn't much I could do about it now. Maybe it was just a weird dream, a side effect of falling asleep on the couch again.

Or maybe… it was something more.

But that was something to think about later. Right now, I needed to get ready.

I let out a long sigh before getting up from the couch. My body protested with a slight ache in my back—sleeping there was never a good idea, and my friend was right about my spine eventually killing me.

I grabbed the blanket and pillow I had been using and, dragging my feet, walked down the hallway to my old room. It hadn't really been mine for a while now, but it still held traces of what it once was. As I stepped inside, a familiar scent filled the air—a mix of old wood and a faint trace of my old cologne.

The room was just as my brother had left it—messy enough to remind me that this was no longer my territory. Ignoring the discomfort, I carefully folded the blanket and placed it on the bed without worrying too much about neatness. The pillow landed in the corner.

Now, I needed to get ready.

I walked over to the small wardrobe against the wall. Even though it wasn't my room anymore, some of my clothes were still there. I opened the doors and scanned through them, picking something comfortable enough to last two days at Hycaros' place. His tournaments always stretched through the weekend, and staying over had become tradition.

I grabbed a plain black T-shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and some underwear. For the second day, I chose another T-shirt and a pair of shorts, tossing everything into a small backpack. I also packed a towel and deodorant—because if there was one thing Hycaros couldn't stand, it was people smelling bad in his house.

Closing the wardrobe, I stretched, feeling a faint crack in my shoulders. I needed a shower to wake up properly.

I left the room and headed for the bathroom. The cold light illuminated the space as I flicked the switch. Closing the door behind me, I set the backpack down in a corner before looking at myself in the mirror.

I looked… tired. Maybe I was still caught in the confusion of that strange dream. My eyes had a distant look, as if part of me was still trapped in that dark void.

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside. I took off my clothes and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up a bit before stepping in.

As soon as I felt the right temperature, I let the water cascade over me, allowing the heat to relax my tense muscles. I closed my eyes, trying to simply enjoy the moment.

But deep down, one question still echoed in my mind.

Was that really just a dream…?

The hot water ran down my face, washing away the weight of exhaustion and, perhaps, some of the lingering confusion still clinging to my mind.

Maybe… maybe it had just been a dream.

In the hazy space between lucidity and deep sleep, the mind can create bizarre things. There have been cases of people dreaming about absurd realities and waking up with the feeling that they had truly lived them. That's all this was, right?

Yeah. That was the most logical explanation.

It didn't make sense for a human being to have absolute power, something that could bend reality at will. That went against everything I knew about the world—logic, science, the very structure of existence.

It was impossible.

Ridiculously impossible.

I took a deep breath, feeling the warm humidity of the steam fill my lungs.

Then why was I still thinking about it?

I needed to stop. To forget. Maybe my mind was just trying to escape reality with some absurd fantasy. But now wasn't the time for that. I had things to do, a tournament to go to, friends waiting for me.

It was better to focus on the present.

I opened my eyes, letting the water run over them for a few seconds before turning off the shower. It was time to move on.

Stepping out of the shower, I felt the steam begin to dissipate into the air around me. I grabbed the towel hanging nearby and started drying myself off, rubbing the fabric against my hair to remove the excess water before wrapping it around my waist. The mirror, fogged up by the steam, reflected a distorted silhouette of myself.

At least now I was more awake.

I reached for my backpack and took out the clothes I had picked. First, I put on my underwear and dark jeans, adjusting them in place before pulling the black shirt over my head. I ran my hands over the fabric to smooth it out on my body and, finally, put on my socks. My sneakers were still in the living room—I'd grab them before leaving.

I tossed the towel over the shower rail to dry and zipped up my backpack, making sure I had everything. Then, I unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

And then I stopped the moment I saw my mother standing in the hallway.

She was holding a cup of coffee, her eyes showing a mix of surprise and curiosity as she watched me come out. The strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, blending with the faint scent of soap still clinging to my skin.

— Up this early? — she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly as she took a sip from her cup.

I knew this wasn't just a casual question. My mother always woke up early on weekends to tidy the house and prepare breakfast. Me? Well, if I had nothing to do, I'd usually sleep in.

— My friend called me — I answered, adjusting the backpack strap on my shoulder. — I'm spending the weekend at Hycaros' place.

She nodded slowly, observing me with that analytical motherly gaze.

— Hycaros… he's the one who always hosts those video game tournaments, right?

— Yeah. There's a Melty Blood championship today.

She let out a quiet sigh before taking another sip of coffee.

— At least you won't be locked up in here all day — she remarked.

There was no judgment in her voice, but knowing my mother, she probably thought I spent too much time alone.

— Yeah, I guess not — I replied, hoping to end the conversation there.

She remained silent for a moment, then gave a small nod.

— Alright, just don't come back too late on Sunday.

— Got it.

I walked past her, still feeling her gaze on my back.

Even though she hadn't said anything directly, something in her tone made me realize she wanted to ask something else. But, as always, she kept it to herself.

I headed to the kitchen, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet. The faint scent of coffee still hung in the air, and as I looked around, I noticed everything was already clean and organized. She must have woken up much earlier to take care of everything. The dishes were in the drying rack, the countertop spotless, and the sink dry.

I opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a glass. Without bothering to look for food, I simply poured some coffee from the thermos sitting on the table. I didn't bother adding sugar. The bitterness of plain coffee was oddly comforting at that moment. I took a sip, letting the warmth of the drink slide down my throat.

Then, my phone buzzed in my pocket, followed by the insistent ring of a call.

Frowning, I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

For a moment, I wondered if I was already late, but then I saw that the name on the screen wasn't the friend who had called me earlier. It was Hycaros himself.

I answered.

— Hey.

— Finally, man! — Hycaros' voice came through loud and clear, carrying his usual impatience. — I'm outside, in front of your building. Did you forget about the tournament or what?

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of coffee before answering.

— I'm already heading out.

— If you take too long, we're starting without you.

— Relax.

Before he could say anything else, I ended the call and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

I finished my coffee in a few more sips, quickly washed the glass, and left it to dry. Grabbing my backpack, I passed through the living room to put on my sneakers and stepped out the door.

Just as I was leaving, I heard my mother's voice from inside the apartment.

— God be with you.

I hesitated for a second but didn't reply. I just kept walking, descending the stairs at a steady pace. The echo of my footsteps filled the empty stairwell, and the air was thick with the scent of concrete and old paint.

When I reached the ground floor, I exited through the garage gate—already used to taking this alternate route—and then I saw the car.

It was a luxury model, gleaming under the morning light, standing out starkly against the worn-down surroundings of the apartment complex. The passenger window was rolled down, and there, leaning back against the seat, was Hycaros, wearing a relaxed smile, as if he'd been waiting patiently.

Hycaros was tall and lean, with light skin and slightly messy black hair that fell to the nape of his neck. His eyes, sharp and slightly slanted, were a deep brown—almost black—and always carried a calculating look, as if he was constantly analyzing everything around him. He wore a black dress shirt, casually rolled up at the elbows, along with tailored dark pants and immaculate shoes.

— Thought I'd have to drag you out of there. — He joked, tilting his head slightly.

I just let out a sigh and approached the car.

— Let's get this over with.

Hycaros chuckled softly and unlocked the passenger door.

— Get in. Today's tournament is gonna be interesting.

As soon as I got in, I shut the door and settled into the plush leather seat. The car's interior had a distinct mix of cleaning product and a subtle woody scent—probably some expensive air freshener Hycaros used.

— Looks like it will be. — I replied, pulling the seatbelt across my chest and clicking it into place.

Hycaros turned the key, starting the engine with a smooth purr, and maneuvered the car out of the lot. As he drove, he glanced sideways at me, wearing that usual smirk—the kind that meant he was about to mess with me.

— Not in the mood or what?

I let out a small sigh, resting my head against the seat.

— Nothing major. Just had a weird dream.

Hycaros raised an eyebrow, wasting no time before breaking into a mischievous grin.

— A weird dream, huh? Don't tell me it was a wet dream?

I rolled my eyes and let out an even heavier sigh.

— Go to hell.

He laughed louder this time, clearly enjoying himself.

— Relax, relax. I'm just saying, if that's the case, I get it. No need to be shy, my young friend.

I just leaned my head against the window, ignoring him. The glass was slightly cool to the touch, a welcome contrast to the warm air inside the car.

Meanwhile, Hycaros kept laughing to himself, satisfied with his own joke, as he drove through the streets, taking us to the tournament venue.

As the car glided smoothly along the road, I watched the outside world, buildings and streetlights passing by in a blur. But my mind wasn't really on the scenery—it was on the guy sitting next to me.

Hycaros… He was, without a doubt, the "rich kid" of the group. The type of guy born with life set to easy mode. While I had to deal with exhausting work, family problems, and the constant feeling of being just another face in the crowd, he had everything handed to him. No worries about money, bills, or an uncertain future. His path had been paved long before he even took his first steps.

And yet, here he was.

I still remembered how we met. It was weird thinking about how we became friends after everything that happened at the public school we attended. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would mix with someone like me—someone who had nothing to offer but sarcasm and accumulated exhaustion. But somehow, it happened. Maybe it was his laid-back attitude or the fact that, despite our different realities, he never acted like he was better than me.

I let out a small sigh, turning my gaze back to the passing streets. It was curious… Hycaros could have chosen any other group of friends—maybe other wealthy heirs like him. But for some reason, he stuck with us.

Go figure.

Hycaros steered the wheel with one hand while adjusting the car's low-volume music with the other. Then, with a sideways glance, he shot me that familiar, amused grin.

— Oh, and just so you know… This time, I'm going with Kouma Kishima.

I blinked, surprised, turning my head toward him.

— Wait a minute… Don't you always play Aoko?

Hycaros shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road.

— I felt like switching things up. Besides, this tournament's just between us, so I figured it was a good time to try something new.

I let out a low chuckle.

— I see… So, what you're really saying is that since it's just a small group, you can experiment without the risk of getting humiliated?

— Exactly! — He laughed, not even trying to deny it. — It's just gonna be me, you, and three others. The rest of the group had stuff to do and couldn't make it.

I fell silent for a moment, processing the information. A smaller tournament meant every match mattered more. Fewer distractions, fewer excuses. Well… That made things more interesting.

— If Shiki Ryougi were in this Melty Blood, — I mused, resting my head against the window, — she'd definitely be my main.

Hycaros let out a short, mocking laugh.

— Well, obviously. She's your waifu, man.

I couldn't help but chuckle. Hycaros always knew how to push my buttons, though he was probably more serious than he let on.

— Yeah, you got me. I'm the kind of guy who likes women with multiple personalities, a few issues, and, of course, the strongest one in the Fate universe. Can't deny it—that's my thing.

Hycaros made a face and glanced at me while keeping his grip on the wheel.

— Ah, yes… Of course. Rodrigo's type always has to be the full package: a woman with obvious mental issues and the added bonus of being the most powerful being in the entire Fate universe. — He laughed, his usual teasing smirk on display. — Exactly what every normal man is looking for, right?

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help laughing too. Hycaros was being dramatic as always.

— You've got some weird tastes yourself, Hycaros, — I shot back playfully. — And you can't judge me, you know? You have your own waifus from other anime.

He chuckled, already prepared to fire back.

— Oh, of course. But no one here is discussing my waifu collection, are they? I'm just a guy with… refined taste. — He paused, then looked at me again, his smirk turning into a mischievous grin. — And let's be real, you're in no position to judge me after dating that crazy goth girl who tried to sacrifice you to summon a Lovecraftian god.

I nearly choked on air. For a second, I was speechless, the memory of that woman flashing through my mind.

— Don't bring that up, man. I'd rather forget that.

Hycaros let out a soft, amused laugh, clearly enjoying the reaction.

— Ah, Rodrigo, no need to be embarrassed. Everyone's had some weird flings. The important thing is that you got out of it, right? Even if it was by the skin of your teeth… I doubt that ex of yours is a fond memory.

I sighed deeply, trying to push the memory aside. No point dwelling on something that bizarre. Whatever had happened back then wouldn't change anything now.

— And you? Who's your waifu today? Don't tell me it's just some random action anime girl… I'm not that easy to fool.

Hycaros let out a theatrical sigh, tilting his head slightly as if in deep thought.

— Ah, well… If you really want to know, I'm at that stage in life where I don't care about anime girls anymore, you know? Now I'm more into strong characters, like Saber from Fate. Now that's a real heroine.

I looked at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

— You're only saying that because Saber is popular and everyone loves her.

Hycaros shrugged.

— Maybe. But are you gonna tell me she doesn't have her charm? She's strong, respectable, and has a sense of honor that's hard to find. Way different from my exes… — He paused before adding with that sly grin, — And speaking of waifus, you should try finding someone like yours—but, you know, a little less… insane.

I huffed and turned to look out the window, hoping to change the subject.

I took a deep breath before speaking, still feeling that weight in my chest, like my words were trapped inside me, refusing to come out. I stared out at the passing streets, but I wasn't really seeing anything. The conversation had taken a turn I hadn't expected, and I knew I needed to explain what was on my mind, but the words felt just out of reach.

— No, man. It's not like that… — I started, my voice quieter but firm. — Shiki Ryougi… she's just an idea. An idea of something I idealize, something I created in my own head. What I want, what I really desire, isn't something you can just find out there in a real person.

I felt the weight of those words, and as I continued, I wasn't sure if I was explaining myself properly or just trying to convince myself.

— What I'm looking for, what I think I need, isn't something that exists—not in the way we usually imagine. It's not something tangible. I don't want to project that onto someone else, don't want someone to feel pressured to be what I idealize. That would be unfair—to them and to me. So, if that means I end up alone… Well, that's fine. I'd rather have that than try to fill this void with something that will never be real.

I remained silent for a moment, the sound of the car moving through the streets serving as a backdrop to what I was saying. I knew Hycaros was paying attention, but I also knew he wouldn't fully understand. He always had a more practical way of seeing things, and I… I was at a point where even I didn't know how to explain it properly.

Hycaros stayed quiet for a while, as if digesting my words. The car kept gliding down the road, but the silence inside felt heavier than before.

"So, what you're saying is… you want some kind of perfection, but without putting that burden on anyone?" he asked, his tone now more careful, like he was trying to grasp the full meaning behind my words.

I took a deep breath and slowly shook my head. That wasn't quite it. I didn't want perfection. But finding the right way to put it into words was proving difficult.

"It's not really about perfection. I just…" I paused for a moment, searching for the right way to say it. "I want something that can't just be found anywhere, something I can't expect from someone else. I can't ask a real person to give me something that only exists in my mind. So, no matter how much I want it, I know it's never going to happen."

I glanced at Hycaros, and he was still quiet, watching me. I think he realized I was genuinely trying to open up, but I wasn't sure if he truly understood. At the very least, I was starting to feel like talking about it was easing some of the weight I carried. Even if I wasn't sure whether my words made sense.

"I get it… But, man, I don't know, maybe you're putting too much pressure on yourself," he said, his voice calm. "There's a lot of good things out there, even in real life. You can't just throw it all away. Sometimes, the things we're looking for come when we least expect them."

He was trying to offer me a solution, as always. But I knew this pain, this emptiness, wouldn't go away so easily. What he said sounded nice, but it didn't fit what I felt inside.

I looked at him for a moment, wondering if I should even try to believe that. But I couldn't. I knew the things I longed for weren't going to just appear in some simple, natural way, and I also knew I couldn't force someone to be something they weren't. I just sighed and said:

"I know, but it's hard, man. I just… I don't want to do that to someone else. I don't want to project my expectations onto a person who will never be able to fulfill them. If I have to be alone, then so be it. I've already made peace with that idea."

Hycaros didn't respond immediately. He just kept his eyes on the road, and for a moment, I felt like he understood—at least a little—what I was trying to say. Maybe he didn't fully get it, but he was listening. The car kept moving forward, and the silence between us now carried more weight than anything else we could have said.

Then, Hycaros let out a small chuckle, his eyes still fixed on the road. He was clearly focused on driving, but his laughter made me realize he had absorbed what I said, even if he didn't completely agree. He wasn't the type to judge something so deep. Maybe he was just more pragmatic about it.

"I get what you're saying," he said, still with that faint smile on his lips. "But tell me something, Rodrigo… If you had the chance to create something—something exactly the way you idealize it—would you want it?"

He spoke with a calmness that almost caught me off guard, as if the question was simple. But at the same time, it felt like he knew there was something more behind it.

For a second, I forgot to breathe. He wasn't talking about creating someone with real feelings, or some kind of weird experiment. No, he meant creating something that would be the embodiment of my deepest desires. The ideal. The image I had in my mind.

"I'm not talking about some Hikaru Genji plan, where you raise someone to love you or anything like that," Hycaros continued, as if he could read my thoughts. "I mean creating something that's purely ideal. What you truly want, without the limitations of a real person."

I stayed silent, trying to process what he was really asking. He was questioning whether I would have the courage to shape my own "perfection"—something built entirely according to my wishes and expectations.

Not a real person, but something close to an ideal.

I found myself thinking about what that would mean for a long time.

Could I actually create something like that?

Something that was exactly how I envisioned it?

It wouldn't be what I originally wanted—a real person—but rather a manifestation of my own idea of perfection…

Would I really want something like that?

Would I be willing to create a "perfect being" that embodied everything I sought, even if it wasn't real?

I wasn't sure how to respond. The idea was tempting, but at the same time, strangely lonely. Even if I had full control over it, something told me that something would be missing—like the very act of molding this being to my will would strip away the essence of it all.

"I don't know, man," I finally said, still pondering. "It sounds… tempting, but at the same time, I don't think it would feel real. I don't know if it's something I'd truly want, even if it was perfect… I like the idea of an ideal, but if I could actually create it… I don't know, it feels like it would lose its meaning."

Hycaros glanced at me while still driving. Though he wore his usual smile, I could tell he was trying to understand my answer. That silence was soon broken as we arrived, the sound of the car stopping in front of his house bringing a subtle discomfort to the air.

I felt torn between wanting something idealized and not wanting to let go of the reality that connected me to everything. I knew that even if I had that power, creating something perfect but unreal might just be another illusion. And I wasn't sure if I was ready to live with an illusion.

Hycaros smiled—that familiar, easy smile of his—but there was something else in it, like something inside him had clicked upon hearing my response. It was as if he had been waiting for something without knowing exactly what, until suddenly, he spoke, his words carrying an almost philosophical ease.

"Maybe…" he said, chuckling lightly, as if he had stumbled upon an important realization. "Maybe that's why God made humans this way, don't you think? Imperfect. Maybe He realized that perfection isn't really the goal. I think… He wanted to see how His children would adapt to this world, with all its imperfections. Wouldn't it be more interesting to watch imperfect beings strive for something, rather than just handing them perfection and expecting them to be content with it?"

His words hung in the air for a moment, as if the idea was still taking shape in my mind. He was presenting the question in a way that made sense—as if imperfection was the driving force behind true existence, behind relationships, growth, and the pursuit of something greater than ourselves.

Hycaros glanced at me again, his smile still there, but his eyes now held something more serious. He was watching my reaction, waiting for me to process what he had just said. There was something genuinely curious about him, almost as if he had found a key to understanding what I was going through—or at least, what he thought I was trying to understand.

I stayed silent for a while, letting his words echo in my mind.

Something inside me knew he was right.

Perfection might be tempting, but it felt unattainable—an ideal that could never truly be grasped.

I could create something perfect, but it would never be real. It would be like living in a world that wouldn't allow me to be myself, to exist in my flaws and contradictions.

"I think you have a point," I finally said, looking out the car window, where the daylight was beginning to paint everything in a softer hue. "Imperfection is what makes us real. If we were perfect, what would we do with that perfection? Where would we be? What would become of us if there was nothing left to strive for?"

Hycaros' smile widened, as if he had been waiting for me to reach that conclusion on my own. But he didn't say anything. The silence between us was comfortable now, and even though the car was parked in front of his house, I felt like the conversation was far from over.

It was one of those simple yet profound ideas that make you rethink the world.

I turned to Hycaros, a thought forming in my mind—one that felt particularly relevant in that moment, given everything that had been said.

"Hey, Hycaros…" I started, almost hesitant, as if it was something I had kept inside me for a while. "If you had the power to make the impossible real—to create life however you wanted—what would you do with all that power?"

The question lingered in the air, and Hycaros' expression shifted slightly. He fell silent for a moment, as if weighing the thought carefully.

I already knew he was someone who liked to push boundaries, to challenge conventions, to always seek something beyond. But now, I wanted to see how he would answer something so… profound.

Hycaros looked at the road ahead, as if watching something invisible in the distance, his eyes fixed on a point far away. His hand rested firmly on the steering wheel, but as always, there was a lightness in his smile—unrushed, unreadable.

"Hm… good question," he finally said, his voice calm and unassuming, as if entertaining both a serious and an amusing thought at the same time. "I… think that, deep down, I wouldn't do anything. Or rather, I'd just do what the universe already does—only in my own way. Maybe I'd create a world where no one had to worry about tomorrow, where people could just live without the limitations of human existence, without fear, without pain. But at the same time… who would I be to change something so… natural? Like I said, what the universe creates already has its own value."

He let the thought drift for a moment before turning back to me, that same knowing smile on his face—one that seemed to hide something more.

"But who knows, right? What's impossible for us might just be a matter of perspective. What about you? What would you do?"

I fell silent for a moment, reflecting on his answer.

It was a good question—one that was about more than just the ability to create.

It was about the power to change the very essence of what it means to be human—or to be anything at all.

I wasn't sure what I would say.

But deep down, I knew that what I truly wanted… was to understand.

And Hycaros' answer made me question something much bigger.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to push away the whirlwind of thoughts rushing through my mind like a storm. What had happened in that strange… reality, or dimension, or whatever it was, still haunted me. It was impossible to simply erase it from my head, as if it were a reflection of something I might have wanted—something I could never have. But if I did have that power, would I really use it? I could change everything around me, shape reality to my will… But would that be right?

I sighed, feeling a heavy weight in my chest.

— I… wouldn't use that power for good or evil… — I said in a low voice, as if trying to convince myself. — It would be selfish, sure, to use it for my own gain. But no, I don't want to be a monster, I don't want to be someone who manipulates others for fun. Not that I care about people—in fact, I barely care about what others think or feel…

I looked out the car window, watching the city rush past, buildings and streets blurring under the morning sunlight. I wanted to believe that what I was thinking had some meaning, but deep down, the truth was that I had no idea what to do with all of it.

— But still… — I continued, in an almost inaudible sigh, as if speaking to myself. — I could never, under any circumstances, harm someone… I wouldn't want to bear the weight of knowing I destroyed someone's life. No… That would be… too much.

Those words echoed in my mind. I knew that if I had the power to shape reality, to change anything, I still couldn't use that power destructively, like a villain. Not that I cared how others remembered me.

It was strange to think this way, as if the very existence of such power was an immense responsibility. Something I wasn't ready to carry—but at the same time, something that called to me in a way I couldn't ignore.

I sighed again, trying to find some balance in my thoughts. But the truth was, I was far from having answers to everything going through my head. I just… didn't want to be a threat—to myself or to others. And yet, maybe I wanted more than I was willing to admit.

When the car finally stopped, Hycaros' house appeared before me—an imposing mansion that reflected the morning sunlight, standing in a wealthy neighborhood. The contrast was undeniable: while I lived in a simple apartment, he had everything. A huge garage, security gates, and a perfectly maintained garden that looked like it came straight from a luxury catalog. I sighed, unable to avoid the thought of how Hycaros' world seemed completely different from mine.

As I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath of fresh air and finally asked, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer:

— Hycaros, seriously… Why are you still in a public school? Shouldn't you be in some elite private school, one of those places that prepares someone like you for the future?

I looked at him, waiting for an answer. This guy had everything most people dreamed of—wealth, a guaranteed future, a life without financial worries… So why was he still at that public school? Something didn't add up. He could be anywhere, yet he chose to stay in the very reality that most of us, deep down, wanted to leave behind.

Hycaros glanced at me as he stepped out of the car, a subtle smile on his face. He seemed completely at ease, as always.

— Do you think I'd be happier in a private school? — he replied lightly, as if reflecting on the question. — It's not about the future, Rodrigo. I could be anywhere I wanted, but I'd rather be here. I think all that glamour, all that "preparation," it's just a façade, you know? The world doesn't revolve around an elite school or a perfect resume. Besides, it's more interesting to see things from this angle. If I were in a different school, I probably wouldn't have met you guys, wouldn't have had some of the experiences I've had.

He shrugged, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely content with his choice—something I could never fully understand. For me, status mattered. But I also knew that Hycaros didn't care about those things. He was above all that. And maybe that's exactly what made him so… enigmatic to me.

Hycaros walked toward the massive door of his mansion, pushing the heavy iron entrance with a simple yet confident motion. The sound of the metal shifting was like a warning that we were about to step into another world once again—the kind of world he had always had at his disposal. As he moved through the entrance, with its soft lighting and decorations reminiscent of a modern art museum, I couldn't help but think about everything he had, everything he could do, and everything that, no matter how hard I tried, I would never reach.

Half-distracted by these thoughts, I finally asked the question that had been nagging at me since we arrived:

— And the others? Where are they? — I asked, keeping my tone casual.

Hycaros, who seemed completely at ease in his home, turned to me with a mischievous smile.

— They'll be here in a few hours — he said with his usual confidence. — But in the meantime, how about we get some practice in? It's going to be an important event, right? We better be sharp for the tournament.

He watched me closely, as if he already knew this was exactly the kind of proposal I'd been looking for. Deep down, I knew he was right. We needed to be ready. But what really caught my attention was his next comment.

— Oh, and by the way… my parents are gone for an entire month — he added with a grin. — So, we can do whatever we want. No worries. We're free.

I raised an eyebrow, catching the playful tone in his voice. I couldn't help but throw in a sarcastic remark—dark humor had always been my way of dealing with these slightly uncomfortable situations.

— Oh, right, of course — I said, trying to imitate the dramatic tone of an American teen movie. — This is one of those stories where the parents leave, the guy throws a party full of "things", everyone loses their minds, and in the end, there's some kind of epic disaster.

Hycaros laughed, unfazed by the irony in my voice. If anything, he seemed even more excited about the idea of practicing for the tournament.

— Not exactly the kind of party you're thinking of, but who knows? — he replied playfully, walking deeper into the house. — If I were you, I'd start getting ready, Rodrigo. I'm not going to take it easy on you just because we're friends.

I followed him inside, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the vast corridor of the house. The place had a relaxed vibe, but at the same time, it felt like it could turn into the setting of an epic movie or an intense competition at any moment.

As I crossed the entrance, I was immediately immersed in an environment that could only be described as the pinnacle of extravagance. The first floor of Hycaros' house wasn't just a residence—it was a living work of art.

The moment I stepped inside, the polished white marble floors, gleaming under the light cascading from the grand chandeliers above, gave the impression that I was walking on something sacred. The entire space exuded luxury, as if every detail had been meticulously designed to showcase power and wealth.

To the left, a massive living room sprawled out, with sleek black leather sofas and velvet pillows, each piece arranged perfectly within the vast space. The walls were adorned with contemporary artwork—probably some of the most expensive pieces on the market. Floor-to-ceiling silk curtains draped the walls, creating a sense of privacy and opulence, as if the outside world simply didn't exist.

At the far end of the room, an enormous curved-screen television was mounted on a frosted glass wall, appearing to float on its own, surrounded by exotic plants and soft ambient lighting embedded in the ceiling. A tempered glass coffee table displayed modernist sculptures—some with sharp, angular lines, others abstract, seemingly defying the laws of geometry.

As I walked further in, I noticed a small cleaning robot gliding smoothly across the floor, emitting a faint hum. One of those high-tech autonomous machines, moving with near-human precision, tirelessly vacuuming up the tiniest specks of dust. The fact that a device this advanced was solely dedicated to cleaning only reinforced the idea that this house was like a glimpse into a distant future, where even the simplest tasks were left to technology.

In the center of the floor, a grand spiral staircase with glass steps and stainless steel railings twisted upward to the second level. Its futuristic design made it look like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. At the base of the stairs, an artificial water fountain trickled gently in the corner, the sound of flowing water adding a sense of tranquility—like a sanctuary hidden within all this extravagance.

To the right of the entrance, a small library featured bookshelves made from an almost translucent material, displaying a collection of rare books and artifacts, arranged in an order that felt both structured and artistic, like an exhibit in a gallery. A glossy black grand piano stood beneath the warm glow of recessed ceiling lights. There was even a futuristic control panel mounted on the wall, allowing for easy adjustment of the lighting, temperature, and even background music with just a simple touch.

Everything around me was so meticulously designed that even the smallest details—the exact placement of the flowers, the perfect room temperature—felt like they had been calibrated for harmony. Hycaros' house was a true reflection of his life: a mix of luxury, power, and an almost sci-fi level of modern technology.

I watched as Hycaros made his way into the kitchen, and before I could even process everything, he started listing off food options.

Pudding, lasagna, coxinha, pastries, chicken, lobster, shrimp…

I was starting to doubt the reality of this situation. This felt more like the menu of a five-star restaurant than a casual meal at home. The sound of the kitchen door swinging shut echoed as he moved around effortlessly, already knowing exactly where to find all these delicacies.

I took a deep breath, still trying to wrap my head around it all, and before he could say anything else, I blurted out:

— Are you serious, Hycaros? You're offering me lobster now?

I couldn't hide my surprise. Sure, I was starting to get used to this level of extravagance, but it was still hard to believe he was actually serious.

I looked at him, trying not to let my astonishment show too much, and before he could answer, I threw another question into the air—more on impulse than genuine curiosity:

— But before I get too caught up in all this food, are we playing in your room or in the living room? You better decide fast, because I'm not waiting too long for that lasagna or lobster. This is going to be a quick match, right?

I was trying to keep the conversation light, but the irony was there, almost slipping out without me noticing. The truth was, deep down, I was more interested in the tournament and how the matches would play out than in anything else at that moment.

Hycaros looked at me with that calm smile, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He stood there, placing a plate of coxinhas in front of me, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Well, we can play in my room. Can't miss the perfect atmosphere. But first, make yourself at home. If you want anything, just ask. We have the best of everything here," he said with that laid-back tone I was already starting to recognize.

I looked around the spotless hall, filled with luxurious items, and tried to focus on the tournament. There was no time for anything else. The game was about to begin, and honestly, I was more interested in seeing who would win than in any kind of gourmet indulgence.

After a good meal, Hycaros and I headed to the living room, where the TV was already on, displaying the Melty Blood character selection screen on the massive display. The black leather couch felt almost endless in its comfort, carrying that faint scent of luxury that filled the room, blending with the coolness of the air conditioning. The room was impressive, with sleek, modern details and refined furniture, yet it somehow managed to feel welcoming—a place where you could truly relax without a care.

I threw myself onto the couch, grabbing the controller, trying not to let it show how overwhelmingly extravagant everything was. Hycaros settled beside me, a confident smile on his face, as if he already knew victory was practically guaranteed. He picked up his controller with practiced ease, as if gaming was second nature to him. Meanwhile, I was trying to focus on the match, despite the mental chaos still lingering in my head. The character selection timer was ticking down—I had to choose quickly before he started teasing me.

"Who are you going with? Kouma Kishima again?" I asked with a smirk, knowing full well he wouldn't pick anyone else. He always gravitated toward that aggressive, confident playstyle—it suited him perfectly.

Hycaros didn't hesitate. He glanced at me, chuckling softly. "No, I'll switch things up. I want to try something different today."

He selected a new character, and the screen soon displayed a fighter with a distinct aesthetic—one that relied more on technical skill than brute strength, a sharp contrast to Kouma's raw power.

I stared at the screen, controller still in hand, and with a slight smile, I picked my favorite character: Aoko Aozaki. Her fighting style had always appealed to me. She was powerful, and that was something I admired—not just in games, but in general. In a way, she represented the kind of person I wished I could be. The screen flashed as the game loaded, and the battle was about to begin.

"Get ready, my friend. This is going to be tougher than you think," I said, leaning slightly forward on the couch, bracing myself for the fight.

The tension in the room was palpable, but for some reason, in that moment, nothing else mattered except the game. The luxury surrounding us, Hycaros's words about dreams and reality—none of it held weight. The game was my sole focus, a way to completely disconnect from the mess in my mind. The sound of the loading screen filled the silence, and the countdown began.

"Let's see what you've got this time," I muttered, fingers poised over the controller buttons. The battle was about to begin.

---

The afternoon dragged on, and the clicking of controllers and rapid button presses became a background rhythm of their own. Hycaros and I had been playing for nearly five hours. The 20-20 tie on the scoreboard was a perfect reflection of our determination and focus. We were both sweaty, exhausted, and slightly frustrated—but also completely addicted to the competition. Our hands were heavy, our fingers slightly numb, but neither of us was willing to admit defeat. The once vibrant, luxurious atmosphere around us now felt stifling, the walls seeming to close in with every passing minute.

I slumped back into the couch, my feet resting on the glass coffee table, my initial energy long gone. I glanced at Hycaros, who was in the same state—eyes half-lidded, brow furrowed, gripping his controller tighter than necessary, as if trying to suppress the tension building between us. The empty soda cans and snack wrappers scattered across the table were evidence that we had consumed far more than we should have, but the adrenaline had kept us going.

"I really thought I had that one," I said, exhaling deeply, trying to stretch out my stiff fingers.

Hycaros looked at the screen with a tired yet defiant expression. "The game's not over until the last round, and you know that. I'm not letting you win now."

I hadn't even noticed how dark the room had gotten. The closed curtains and the dim glow of the TV were the only sources of light, creating an almost surreal atmosphere—a feeling as if time had stopped. The sound of the TV, the clicking of controllers, and the faint hum of the empty house were the only noises filling the space, making the room feel more intense and almost... claustrophobic.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was already late. The day had flown by, and the others still hadn't arrived. Strange—they usually showed up in the early afternoon. I asked Hycaros if he knew anything, but he just shrugged.

"Maybe they got held up. But honestly, it doesn't really matter, does it?" Hycaros replied, but he didn't seem the least bit concerned. His focus was entirely on the screen, his eyes locked onto the game.

I leaned back on the couch, rubbing my eyes. The heat of the afternoon mixed with my exhaustion, and I started to wonder why we were so obsessed with this game. The fact that we kept playing, even when there was no real need to, felt like a reflection of something deeper inside me. The need for more. The need to escape something.

"It's been a while, huh?" I said, more to myself than to Hycaros. The weight of exhaustion was starting to creep in, dragging my thoughts toward places I didn't want to go.

"Yeah, it has. I even thought you were gonna give up. You were doing really well at the start," Hycaros replied, his voice laced with irony, though his face showed signs of fatigue.

The house felt too quiet now. Nothing but the sound of the game and the occasional words exchanged between us. The warmth of the afternoon felt heavier, and I started questioning why we were so fixated on this, even at a point where it no longer made much sense.

I took a deep breath, trying to push away the thoughts creeping into my mind. This wasn't the time to get lost in deeper reflections. The competition was alive, and my focus needed to be on the game. I looked at the screen and quickly selected Arcueid Brunestud. As her character animation appeared, confidence surged back into my body. Arcueid had always been my go-to when it came to speed and control, her fighting style unmatched. She stood there, with her piercing red eyes and flowing blonde hair, exuding strength, an aura of something indescribable—something beyond human. She was my character, and I had to defend her until the very end.

Hycaros, on the other hand, had already locked in his favorite—Aoko Aozaki. The cold glow of her character illuminated the screen, and I caught the satisfied smirk on his face. Aoko had always been one of the most powerful and unpredictable fighters, and I knew Hycaros had absolute control over her. Her magic, her ability to manipulate space and time… This was a clash of titans.

The tension snapped back into place instantly. The world around us faded as our characters stared each other down on the screen. The exhaustion that had settled in moments ago was replaced by pure adrenaline. It was as if nothing else existed beyond this fight. Every move, every command, every reaction mattered more than anything else. I wasn't just playing anymore—this was personal.

"Ready to lose, Rodrigo?" Hycaros said, smirking, but his eyes burned with intensity. He was completely immersed, as if nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. I could feel the pressure building—this was no longer about winning a Melty Blood tournament. This was about proving who was better, about showing who truly had the most skill.

"Let's see who comes out on top this time," I shot back, my tone just as challenging, my fingers hovering over the buttons, unwavering. I wasn't going to lose to him. Not this time.

Our hands moved fast on the controllers, my fingers pressing buttons with precision, my eyes locked onto the screen, calculating every one of Aoko's movements, trying to anticipate Hycaros's attacks. But he wasn't giving me any openings. Every strike from Aoko was swift and unpredictable, barely giving me time to react. Still, Arcueid was fast, and I knew exactly how to use her speed against any opponent.

The fight unfolded like a frantic dance, attacks and spells clashing at every second. I blocked Aoko's strikes with perfect timing, only to be countered by a devastating spell. I managed to dodge, but not without feeling the weight of every exchange. Each lost point felt like a personal defeat.

Hycaros didn't let up. His focus was razor-sharp, and with each calculated move, he edged closer to victory. Sweat began to form on my forehead as the battle's rhythm grew more and more intense. I had to stay calm. I knew this was the decisive moment.

I couldn't afford to slip now.

And then, the perfect moment arrived. I seized a gap in Aoko's attack and, with a quick and calculated move, I landed Arcueid's final blow, hitting Aoko's weak spot with pinpoint accuracy. The screen animation showed Arcueid's strike in action, and Aoko's health quickly drained. I won.

I fell back against the couch, breathing heavily, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Hycaros let out a "damn it" and laughed, still staring at the screen, as if he couldn't believe he had actually lost. His expression was a mix of frustration and amusement. He tossed the controller aside and leaned back on the couch, exhausted.

"You're really good at this game, huh?" Hycaros said, with a half-forced smile, but also a genuine one. "I really thought I was gonna win this time."

I just looked at him, smiling victoriously, but with a faint sense of accomplishment. "It's not about winning or losing. It's about who's in control."

He laughed. "Yeah, yeah... Congrats, man, you won this time."

But deep down, I knew that this kind of victory, this small satisfaction, was exactly what I'd been seeking all along. And maybe, just like the game, life was just a series of confrontations. Each with their battles, their wins, and their losses. What mattered wasn't the result, but the intensity of the fight.

The room was quieter now, the tension slowly dissipating. The game, the fight, was over, but something inside me felt like maybe this battle was just the beginning of something more.

I was about to grab the controller again and start another round, still savoring the victory, when Hycaros, with an exasperated sigh, picked up the phone from the coffee table. He looked at the screen and grimaced.

"Ah, crap..." he muttered to himself, scrolling through the phone screen as he read the messages. I stayed quiet, curious, waiting for him to explain what was going on.

"The others can't make it," he said, with a hint of irritation in his voice, still staring at the phone. "Looks like everyone got last-minute commitments... And this..." He showed me the screen, where one of our group's friends had texted saying they "couldn't make it anymore," followed by an apology.

"Are you kidding me? They could have let us know earlier," Hycaros added, shaking his head as he put the phone down, visibly frustrated. Several hours had passed since he received the message, and the situation didn't seem to improve.

"So... the tournament's just gonna be between the two of us?" I asked, more to break the silence than anything else. Despite the disappointment of the others not showing up, the idea of spending more time with Hycaros wasn't exactly a problem. On the contrary, it could still be fun. "Just you and me, once again, on the battlefield?"

Hycaros let out a short laugh, but it was tinged with a lack of humor. "Yeah, looks like it. Nothing like a good match between friends, right? At least now it'll be personal." He looked at me with a smile, but I could see he was also a bit disappointed. There was nothing worse than waiting for something and having it canceled at the last minute.

He then leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his hair lazily. "Oh well. It happens. Let's make our own tournament then. Maybe this will be more fun. No more excuses, no more interruptions. The game's just between the two of us. Whoever wins takes the glory."

I just nodded, feeling the tension of the game rise again, but also a sense of relief. We didn't have to wait anymore. What mattered now was focusing on what lay ahead: one more round, another challenge. A chance to prove who truly ruled the game.

Without wasting time, we both refocused on the screen. The battle was far from over.