Chapter Text
A thousand voices merged into a single noise, rolling in waves across her body, reflecting and resonating in her soul. The rays of the setting sun softly fell on her armor, reflected from her gold, creating a halo that inspired awe before her majestic figure. The crowd of spectators, the bottomless blue sky above her head, the hot sand of the arena under her feet made her raise her chest higher, holding back the urge of her heart to flutter like a dove higher and higher, filling with confidence in her imminent triumph. She could not lose, not today, not again! She would rather die than lose again to him.
Her gaze fell on him. He was standing right in front of her, in his always snow-white suit, which today gave him a special etherealness, unreality, even ghostliness. He stood far away to see him, but she knew — he was smiling again with that very same trademark smile of the number one hero. His whole figure, his silhouette screamed with confidence in victory. And it was this confidence that she wanted to destroy, to make him fight with all his might, to trample his white suit into the dirt and wipe that annoying smile from his face.
The blood boiled in her veins, but she never showed it on her face, similar in its impartiality to the faces of ancient statues. The signal rang out, marking the beginning of a duel that could change everything. She would agree to nothing but victory, nothing but the triumph of order and justice. This time she took into account all the mistakes, trained to the point of exhaustion, just to become the number one and bring this chaotic misunderstanding down to earth.
She moved with lightning speed, as fast as her body and armor allowed. Perfected movements cut the air, whistling right in front of the ear of the Number One Hero. He dodged her blows as if it was not a duel, but a passionate dance of two lovers. Another provocation, it was stupid to think that this would anger or hurt her. Everything was going according to plan, and this plan did not belong to him. Having made a couple of new lunges that did not yield results, she paused for a short time to summon a magic circle and surround everything with spears. The pause lasted no more than a second, and she already felt that he could not keep up with her and her attacks. A moment, he hesitated, and she took advantage of this and made a lightning-fast lunge that shook the air.
At that moment, everything seemed to stop, even the audience held their breath, a deathly silence hung in the air. The dust settled, revealing the hero, who was still smiling, but a drop of blood had blossomed like a scarlet bud on his cheek.
— Tsk.
The only thing that came out of him before he slowly and theatrically wiped a drop from his cheek, without removing his self-confident smile. His glasses flashed, and through them he looked her straight in the eyes again. They both knew that this was a call to action, a new challenge, a new mockery. The fans continued their eternal hubbub and the fight continued with renewed vigor. Now Hero Number One was not shy about using his powers. Despite this, she had long since lost sensitivity to these jumps through realities, to the loss of dimension, to the change of space, and began to easily predict his next actions. Blow after blow and one moment he will again be late, distracted, tired and then she will catch him, she will be victorious over chaos.
Quite a lot of time had passed since the start of the fight, and some spectators even managed to get bored. But this is the business of ordinary fans, and for them it was a game of endurance, not only physical, but also moral. It was a game of chess, the prize for victory in which was a title and power. They could continue like this until one of them broke down, and therefore suffered defeat. They had to act smarter, and Hero Number One just had an ace up his sleeve. Another snap — everything was painted in bright colors, and the space was distorted under the will of the omnipotent magician. He deftly retreated, jumping over bright toyish objects, hovering in the air without a goal. With each blow, with each dodge, he lured her into his trap.
Taking advantage of her complete attention to himself and not to her surroundings, he stood on the edge of the small staircase and, putting his right hand in his pocket, turned to face her. Despite the fact that this duel had taken a lot of his strength, and the lack of sleep was making itself felt in the form of a slow reaction, he still smiled casually, defiantly. He stood above her, looking down, as if demonstrating the victory of his ideals. She received his message and, gathering all her strength, as if this was her final blow, and rushed towards him.
Snap.
Again, that familiar feeling, when the ground slips out from under your feet and you, powerless, betrayed, fall like a dead weight, watching the sky float away from you. But this time, it was him in front of her face, literally a couple of inces separating their faces as they fell frantically head first, risking at any second to crash into the ground. Even the noise of the wind died down as she looked into his eyes, wanting to understand what he was thinking, whether he was happy with what he had done. This time, such a sparkling smile awaited her, just like a child's whose innocent prank had succeeded. He spread his arms, as if wanting her to take his wrists, like children when they dance in a circle. But he forgot that she was no longer a little girl. Having distanced herself and regrouped, she prepared for a far from soft landing, pointing her spear towards the ground.
A rumble, a shock wave, a cloud of dust. The ground beneath her split, cracked, creating a crater that from a distance resembled a giant flower made of stone, but its weight was nothing compared to the weight she felt, unable to stand up anymore, like a statue of blood and flesh. She had lost, betrayed those who believed in her, could not create her own order, defeat chaos, defeat… Him…
White silhouette was the last thing she saw before her consciousness plunged into darkness.
She opened her eyes in a dark room. A familiar ceiling. The second floor of the Tower of Heroes. Her floor.
Her entire body was exhausted from pain, every muscle ached, her head felt like it was squeezed in a vice. She hadn't felt humanly weak for so long, it seemed she had completely forgotten that she had once been a human, not a hero. Barely raising her heavy hand to her forehead, she felt a cold compress. A few more seconds and her weakened awareness came to the understanding that someone had taken off her armor and crown. She didn't care so much that someone had dared to take off her symbol of power, her burden, without asking, the only matter is who had done it. And then a quiet male voice reached her ear, it seemed that this someone was still here and he was... Singing something?
— Queen of the stars, leaping through the sky up above…~♪
Gathering her strength, she raised herself up on her elbows to see who this brave man was, who dared to enter her chambers without permission. As she thought, it was him — Hero Number One. He was calmly making himself coffee in her kitchen, smiling and quietly whistling a melody. Noticing her, he smiled, greeting her like that. Simply unbearable. She frowned and tried to sit up, but the pain pierced her body again, causing her to flinch and close her eyes, gritting her teeth. Opening her eyes again, he was already next to her with a glass of water.
— I don't need your pity. — she hissed, turning away from the glass as if the water in it was poisoned. His presence here was already a mockery, and then there was his help in her moments of weakness. She didn't want him to see her weak. No one had ever been so kind to her for free, without any compensation. After all, when you are the number two hero in the rankings, many leeches try to suck up to you, who only need a piece of your fame, your faith. But... She sincerely did not understand why he needed this. He probably didn't need money or fame. Then this was definitely another mockery, he was laughing at her, it couldn't be any other way.
— What are you doing here? — She looked at him again, looking straight into his eyes, as if she wanted to incinerate him with her gaze. Silence again in response. As expected, Hero Number One was never known for his talkativeness. She chuckled and was about to turn away from him, when he finally spoke.
— I can't leave my wounded colleague unattended. — His hand gracefully placed the glass on the bedside table, littered with various bandages, plasters and other medications, and he continued to sit next to her on the floor. It must have looked like a Renaissance painting from the outside. Beautiful translucent fabrics flowed from the ceiling, creating the feeling of a worthy monarch's attire, gold and glass, warm shades and he, a snow-white spot with a defiantly red tie, like a spirit, completely alien to this world, her world.
They probably didn't even notice how they looked at each other for a minute, not knowing what to say, trying to read it on someone else's face, in someone else's eyes. But she still couldn't hold back the urge of the flesh, so she took a glass of water to drink it in one gulp. The life-giving moisture helped her sharpen her mind again, give her a little more strength, but it wasn't enough.
— If so, then bring me more water! — It sounded in a commanding, but even slightly... Playful tone. Raising the corner of her lips and turning her nose up to the ceiling, she looked down on him again, waiting for his reaction to her provocation. Where is your pride, Hero Number One? Will you listen to her like a servant listens to his monarch? And that's exactly what happened. Without using any force, easily and confidently, but even somehow tenderly, he brought her another glass and a whole jug if she wanted more. Just honey for her eyes. Her chest even felt somehow lighter, as if the ice began to melt slowly. A strange feeling, it made the heroine think, lowering her gaze. Her brain wanted to look for a catch in his every movement, gesture, look, word, but her heart told her to simply accept it as a gesture of goodwill.
Again her gaze fell on his face. Tired eyes behind colored lenses, a slight smile, slightly disheveled hair and that scratch that spoiled his perfect look. With a strong-willed movement of her heavy hand, she lifted his glasses to see his dark gray eyes directly. It seemed that this gesture slightly took Hero Number One by surprise, a slight sigh made it clear that this was his vulnerable spot and without glasses he was more defenseless, but out of habit he kept his smile. A few more seconds of silence, a kind of staring game, a stupid attempt to build non-verbal contact. Her hand confidently took the bandage from the table, a little awkwardly unpacked it and stuck it on his cheek, right where the scratch, which she had been glad to see just a couple of hours ago, was flaunted with a scarlet ribbon. A slight, barely noticeable smile appeared triumphantly on the heroine's face.
— Consider us even, X.
— Thank you, my Queen.