"Grace's acting off," Miller said aloud suddenly as they zipped their pants and went towards the sinks. David raised an eyebrow as he stood right next to Miller, turning the faucet and squirting a dab of soap in his head from the nearby soap dispenser.
"What do you mean?" David asked.
As people filled the bathroom, Miller carried on.
"He's like—" Miller wore a puzzled expression. "—having an out-of-body experience." David knitted his eyes together.
"What?"
"I'm saying: he's acting distracted. The entire time we've been watching the matches, he's been looking into space."
David's lips turned paper-tin, his mind clearly going over what Miller was saying.
"Maybe he's mesmerized by the display of strength?"
Miller bit back the urge to smile, shaking his head.
"Maybe this is unnecessary praise, but I don't think Grace is the type of person to get mesmerized easily."
Miller had not known Grace for that long — heck, he never thought he would ever meeting someone of Grace's status — but he did know one thing.
Grace is hardly ever distracted.
That is something that Miller could say for certain.
This was a time to — at least — have a moment of leisure, to allow themselves to have this moment after all the previous events that occurred to them. The fear, the running, the insanity, all of it becoming this fleeting thing, dispersing into the air like mana.
Yet, to Miller, there was something in Grace's eyes that wasn't allowing him to enjoy the moment for what it was.
"Should we ask him about it?" Miller asked.
He was uncertain; there was something going on in Grace's head, but Miller did not know if he should ask him about it unprompted.
"Uhh... sure. He's a pretty reasonable guy."
Then, before they could exit out the bathroom, the stadium shuddered with a tremor crawling in its infrastructure.
~~~
Earlier, Main Arena.
Grace sat alone at the stands, the sounds of chatter clinging to his skin and bones like sins. His eyes carefully sauntered along the stadium interior, darting from one end to the other as if trying to sense something.
Am I going crazy? Grace thought.
Too peaceful to be called pain.
But so egregious that it could not be called anything other than disturbing.
His gaze, once blank and unresponsive, settled back into the waking world. Around him, he saw the wave of chatter churn into something else.
Questions.
Wonder.
"Where is he?"
"Missing? When his name's been called for the semifinals?"
Grace, once again, began to look around. However, his eyes were instead looking around at the people rather than the beautiful interior design of the stadium.
Then his eyes darted to the center, where the match should be taking place.
Did the announcer already call for them? Grace thought, reflecting on the amount of time he had been partaking in his little daze.
Then—there.
A black wisp, both magical and ominous, flew across the air as faint as a thread. Grace looked around him, his eyes wide.
"Do you see that?" He asked a person beside him, pointing towards that same black wisp of mana that lingered.
The person knitted their brows together, confusion etched into the deepest corners of their facial bones.
"What?"
Grace clicked his tongue, then looked back at the black wisp; it begun moving. The way it slithered in the air was slow at first, then it began to pick up in speed and barreled towards the crowd.
It blew no air, none of it parting way to shock the world.
It simply flew peacefully, yet emanating this dangerous essence all the same. It cruised through and exited through the audience standing entrance.
Perhaps it was his instinct, or if the black wisp had actually beckoned him—he got up from his seat and followed it.
"Hey! Fuck are you doing?!"
Someone yelled at him as he launched himself forward, landing at the entrance. He ignored the yells and complaints that sung behind him, instead focusing on the wisp that tried eluding him.
Reaching the main quarters of the massive stadium, Grace twisted his head left and saw a faint vestige of the black wisp before it fully disappeared into a corner.
Not putting much thought, Grace continued.
The amount of people in the quarters were much less in comparison to the number of people at the stands, so maneuvering around was easier. He pivoted when he reached the corner, the tricking black wisp continuing its elusion.
Turning left.
And right.
And then down stairs—
Grace did not think the layout of the arena would prove to be much more rich in depth than he had originally thought. The turns were rather inconspicuous, and one would most likely just think it would lead to other parts of the building reserved for the participants.
They would be wrong.
There is something here, after all. Grace mused as the numerous turns and stairs led him deep underground.
In the endless white interior walls, Grace turned the corner as the black wisp finally slowed down, stopping its elusive soaring to a silent halt.
Grace stopped.
His feet, stuck to the floor like if glue had been lathered all over his shoes.
In front of a massive steel door akin to that of a shield was Elis. He stood, basking in his own silence.
"Elis?"
Grace felt his breathing tighten once Elis' back began to sway in a turn. Elis' eyes were distant, indifferent to what was happening around him.
The black wisps continued to swirl around Elis' figure.
Finally, the gaze of indifference lifted up, catching Grace's figure.
"Is it... you?"
Grace had no time to answer—the black wisps began to churn.
The building shook, tremors crawling along the walls.
"No..." Elis' voice trailed off.
Then, he took a step forward; Grace instinctively took a step back, a droplet of sweat rolling down his face.
"You... are not..."
Elis traversed the gap between them in a matter of seconds. The floor below writhed, cracks appearing like webs and debris flying.
All of it happened so quick—
Elis appeared before Grace, his eyes — so distant and uncaring — felt so, so cold to the latter. Grace felt the vestige of a heavy breath exit Elis' mouth.
Grace tried to move; he pushed off of his right foot, wanting to create distance.
Elis pressed forward, grabbing Grace by the collar.
Thump!
He drilled his fist right into the center of Grace's chest.
Grace's vision blackened.
~~~
Rufus and Ivan got off of the ship. Their shoes pressed heavy on the dock, the slight gaps between each wooden plank showing the swaying water below.
Rufus frowned as he looked around, his head turning left to right.
He turned to one of the nearby workers.
"Seems like a pretty slow day," Rufus told aloud. "Is today some sort of holiday?" He finished. The worker stopped what he was doing and looked at Rufus, offering him a thin smile as he pointed towards the stadium.
"The Mayor is hosting the island's annual tournament today."
Rufus raised an eyebrow, turning his head to the stadium.
"Is that something that we can afford to do?" Ivan asked, walking towards Rufus with his briefcase of clothing and essentials.
Rufus shook his head.
"No," he responded. "Any time spent not looking for Grace is time being wasted." Rufus looked at the nearby worker once again.
"Is there a place—"
Before Rufus could finish his sentence, black wisps erupted from inside of the gigantic stadium and wrapped around it like a spider's web. No, more than that, it was like a swarm of endless bees all blending amongst one another.
Everyone continued on with their day, as if oblivious and blind to the unreal development that was occurring before the two's very eyes.
Their feet begun to move.
Something — especially towards Ivan — was screaming at them, beckoning them to go to this otherworldly thing.
One that they knew would spell inevitable danger.