Chapter 20
Sonny wakes up still in pain. His body feels heavy and tight, like every muscle has been wrung out and tied back together wrong. Ellie left before visiting hours ended last night, but her words stayed. Stop fighting the Omegas. Live in peace. He stares at the ceiling and knows that is not an option.
He sits up slowly and tests his breathing. The soreness is everywhere, especially in his ribs and shoulder. He shuffles to the desk for water and a small snack, then returns to the floor. He needs ether. He needs control. He needs to be able to stand in a ring without looking like he is about to collapse.
He meditates until the sun shifts and the clock starts to matter.
When he finally walks toward the arena, his bandages cover him up to his neck. They brace his joints, compress torn muscle, and support his bone fractures. They also hide how badly he overused himself.
People stare as he passes. Students whisper.
"That’s the ether guy."
"He looks like he’s in rough shape."
"How is he even fighting today?"
“The One Man Army is a virtual lock.”
Sonny ignores them.
At the arena entrance, an official steps in front of him.
"You look terrible," the man says. "Are you sure you can compete?"
Sonny’s voice stays flat. "I’m fine. Let's do this."
The official hesitates. "If you collapse in the ring, that’s on you."
"I won’t," Sonny says with his gaze forward and focused.
Dean appears near the tunnel, hat tilted, eyes sharp. He looks Sonny up and down and frowns.
"What did you do?" Dean asks.
Sonny lies without blinking. "I overtrained."
Dean snorts. "That’s not an answer."
"It’s the safest one," Sonny says.
Dean studies him for a beat longer, then sighs. "We have a deal. Top four. Don’t embarrass AM."
Sonny gives a short nod once. "I know."
As he waits at the entrance, Asher’s words flicker through his mind. The winner gets to take Ellie on a date. Sonny hates that the thought matters. He forces it down and refocuses.
The crowd inside is loud. They love an underdog story, and Sonny is the strangest underdog they have ever seen.
Then Asher enters. He milks the moment, waving to the stands like a celebrity. He sees Sonny’s wrapped body and makes a show of being shocked.
"What happened to you?" Asher calls. "You look terrible. You giving up already?" A few people laugh.
Asher points toward Sonny like he is presenting him. "Remember our friendly wager,” then shoots Sonny a wink.
Sonny does not react.
The referee signals. "Begin."
Asher moves first. He summons clones in a rapid wave. One becomes five. Five becomes ten. Ten becomes thirty. The ring fills with Asher’s faces and Asher’s grins.
Swords appear next. Metal magic shapes blades into existence in the hands of every clone. More swords hover above Asher, poised like falling rain.
Asher laughs. "Let’s see your swordsmanship, ether boy."
Sonny plants his sword tip-down into the floor. He drops to one knee. Ether gathers. Sonny uses his Field of Blades technique. A summoning spreads through the arena, silent and heavy. Copies of Sonny’s sword rise from the ground across a wide radius, blades pointed upward like gravestones in a graveyard. The sight turns the crowd quiet. In order for Sonny to use Field of Blades, he loses his ability to speak.
Asher’s grin widens. He grabs one of the swords and immediately feels its uneven weight, like it's rejecting him. Sonny’s sword has his ether infused into it, meaning only he can properly wield it.
"Nice blade," Asher says anyway. "Free weapons for my army."
Above, the hovering blades launch. A storm of metal dives toward Sonny.
Sonny rises. He moves into the swarm with controlled footwork, parrying and slipping. His bandages tighten around his injured leg and shoulder as he shifts. Two blades get through. One slices a gash in his side. Another punches into his thigh. Sonny does not flinch. His bandages clamp around the wounds instantly, compressing and stopping the bleeding. He pulls the thigh blade free with a single motion and lets it fall. The crowd gasps.
Asher’s clones rush him, blades swinging from every angle. Sonny grabs a sword from the field and meets them. He is outnumbered, but he does not look outnumbered. He turns the ring into a rhythm. Parry. Step. Cut. Pivot.
The first clone loses its head. The second loses an arm. The third is split down the chest. Sonny is winning the sword fight thus far. Asher’s smile fades into irritation.
"They’re clones," Asher snaps. "You can’t scare me with that."
Sonny says nothing. He keeps cutting.
Asher manifests and sends another wave of clones, trying to drown Sonny in bodies. Sonny keeps moving forward anyway, carving a path. Blades scrape across his bandages, leaving shallow cuts. Nothing stops him. When the last clone falls, the field is littered with fading bodies and scattered swords.
Asher’s eyes narrow. He lifts both hands and sends a second rain of blades. Sonny steps through it dodging and deflecting each one.
Then Asher draws his own sword and charges. The final exchange is clean and brutal. Asher swings with speed and ego. Sonny blocks with minimal movement, catching each strike at the exact angle that drains power from it.
Asher gets faster, then sloppy. Sonny knocks Asher’s sword away. Sonny’s blade stops at Asher’s throat.
Field of Blades fades away. Sonny can speak again. He keeps his voice low so only Asher hears. "I took those wounds earlier to prove I can beat you on one leg. Your blades are weak. You are not the best swordsman here. And you will never speak about Ellie like that again."
Asher’s face twists with rage. Sonny lowers the sword and turns to leave as if he was declared victorious.
The match is all but over. Asher snaps. He summons a blade and throws it like a spear at Sonny’s turned back.
Sonny pivots. He deflects the thrown sword with a single motion and answers in the same breath. He launches his sword toward Asher. It pierces Asher’s left shoulder just above the heart and pins him in place against the wall. Asher screams in pain. Sonny retracts his blade with Ether Strings and walks away without looking back.
Medics rush in. The match is called.
Sonny is advancing to the final four of the Intercollegiate Tournament. Fulfilling his end of the bargain with Dean.
The crowd is stunned by the final exchange between the combatants.
Outside the arena, Ellie meets Sonny and immediately looks furious. "Are you serious?" she snaps. "Asher is a family friend. He was defeated. He shouldn’t have done that, but you could have just deflected the last sword and walked away. Now my family thinks you’re a monster."
The word lands. Sonny’s eyes lower. "A monster, huh."
Ellie’s anger falters for a second. "That’s not what I mean. I just don’t want them to see you that way."
Sonny looks at her. "Do you see me that way?"
Ellie freezes. Her cheeks warm. "No. Of course not."
Sonny’s gaze stays steady. "They aren’t wrong. Maybe you should."
Silence befalls the conversation. The two sit on a bench for a minute.
Sonny speaks again. "Based on the wager I had with Asher, I have to take you on a date."
Ellie’s head snaps back. "You what?"
"Asher proposed it," Sonny says. "I accepted."
Ellie stands up to scold Sonny. "You bargained a date with me"
"He bargained it," Sonny replies. "I accepted and won."
Ellie’s face burns. "And you’re just assuming I’ll go with you after hearing this?"
Sonny looks honestly confused. "Did you think I would lose?"
Ellie glares, then sighs, then shakes her head. "Fine. When we get back to AM. We’ll do your stupid date."
Sonny inclines his head once. "Okay."
Ellie sits on the edge of her bed that night, staring at her hands. She keeps replaying Sonny’s fight with Asher in her head, the way he moves, the way he looks when he decides someone is done. Part of her is proud of his strength. Part of her is scared of how little it seems to cost him to hurt someone so brutally.
