Zephyr awoke on a cold, hard surface. He remembered being sliced across the torso, he remembered his last moments with Olivia and he remembered everything going black. He surveyed the area. He was on a hard, black surface. He couldn’t see very far due to the darkness, but, the way it was lit up, it slightly resembled an arena. Zephyr caught sight of his staff lying on the ground.

As he picked it up, he looked ahead to the other side of the arena. A figure entered from the dark, completely shadowed despite the light focusing on it. The first feature to come into focus was a smile. It had a streak of mischievousness lining it, very similar to Leon. Zephyr stood back in awe as the figure’s face came into view. Tattoos lined the figure’s face; various designs of dragons and random shapes covered the skin.

Zephyr gasped when he saw the figure’s eyes. They were completely white, with no pupils and no blood vessels. The tattoos also covered the figure’s arms, and soon Zephyr realised they were wearing the same outfit.

Zephyr stumbled back as he came to the realisation that he was staring at himself. His shadow-self stepped closer.

Soon they were facing each other in a similar fashion to a duel. Zephyr was still a little confused, but he raised his staff to this unarmed foe.

The figure smiled. He raised his hands in the same manner as Zephyr. Zephyr narrowed his eyes, still confused.

The figure stood there as a staff materialised in his hands. Zephyr gasped in surprise, and the figure attacked in the lapse of concentration.

Zephyr reacted swiftly to prevent being struck in the head. Leaping back, he raised his staff in front of him before he once again stood upright. The figure remained on the offensive, pushing Zephyr back further and further.

When Zephyr reached the edge of the arena vicious flames leapt out at him. Zephyr, never before witnessing flames appear out of nowhere, instinctively leapt to the side. This proved beneficial to him as he struck his opponent in the head, knocking him towards the flames.

His opponent turned and punched Zephyr in the stomach. Zephyr was thrown across the arena and came to rest a few metres away from the flames that now appeared at the other side of the arena. The flames soon spread, leaping out and surrounding the entire arena, locking Zephyr and his opponent in.

Zephyr could not believe the strength his opponent possessed. After only suffering a few attacks, Zephyr was winded and his body refused to move. Only Zagan had struck with more power.

Zephyr’s double leapt into the air and came to rest in front of Zephyr. Zephyr, now crouched, narrowed his eyes, trying to re-evaluate his opponent. The figure spun around and knocked Zephyr in the head with his staff. Zephyr hit the ground hard and lay there. His opponent again leapt into the air, preparing to strike down on Zephyr.

Zephyr analysed this attack and rolled forwards, regaining his footing behind his airborne opponent. Zephyr, now furious, struck powerfully and sent his opponent into the flames that had scorched Zephyr during this manoeuvre.

Zephyr, recovering from the battle, watched in awe as the dark arena soon became a bright light. Zephyr covered his eyes until he could focus. He was in a large field, with luscious grass swaying gently in the breeze. Little white flowers decorated the field; Zephyr was filled with a deep peace as he took in his surroundings.

A figure, bathed in an aura of light, approached him, and soon everything went black as he collapsed, victim to the fatigue of his wounds.

Leon awoke, abruptly getting to his feet. Spying his daggers, he quickly regained them before he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a dark, black arena. Walking to the edges, he smiled to himself as the entire arena became surrounded by flames.

As he surveyed the arena, he found the ominous appearance to be quite to his tastes. His nose picked up a familiar scent on the wind, and he spun on his left heel, turning to face the man who had appeared. Giving a faint smile, he addressed the man's appearance, which quickly wiped the contentment from his expression. He was drabbed in cloth, tied around his torso and legs, and covered in torn, tattered clothing.

Due to its cloth-like appearance and darkened colour, this opponent would be ideal for speed and agility. He clapped two twin blades together, which he wielded as if they were knuckles.

Though the difference was due to the blade protruding from where the studs would be, this would increase his range and speed. With the way they were wielded, one would have a lot more control over direction, changing momentum faster than dual-wielding knives. Also, the fact the blades covered the wrists of the wielder was another advantage Leon foresaw in his opponent’s weapons. He slouched down a bit, bending at the knees, so that he could launch at his opponent a lot faster.

The battle was intense, not so much due to the amount of power or speed his opponent practiced, but more due to his baffling foresight. Leon had not landed a blow. He hadn’t even come close to anything requiring of the man to hop to the left or right. He sped up his momentum, draining him of his energy faster, but regardless, anger had consumed him, and reason was beyond his sight.

He lunged, wielding the blades between his fingers to perform a piercing strike, and then spun to the left to perform a hurricane flurry, where he would be able to slash at the man; regardless of the direction he dodged the first attack.

The man made his first move, which Leon had seen too late. With a simple feat of strength and foresight, he performed a vertical 'bash' slice with his Katars and easily knocked the blades from Leon's grip. Flicking the blades back, so that they no longer seemed an extension of his knuckles, they covered his fore-arm.

With the blades out of the way, he flicked his weight backwards from the downwards thrust and lunged back onto his hands, sending a double upper-cut kick to Leon's jaw. Leon was sent flying into the air, and, with his opponent easily performing a back flip, Leon was now open for the next barrage of assault. There was little he could do to guard the impacts.

The man quickly lunged forward, his momentum building up the strength in the kick he had aimed at Leon's exposed chest, whilst Leon was still floating helplessly through the air. The strike sent him downwards, and across the arena, creating a divot where he had been slid across the ground.

He stood up slowly, and fell backward, his back painfully close to the flames. His head spun wildly, and dizziness ensued upon his vision.

The man walked towards Leon, stopping in front of him. He quickly sliced two symmetrical gashes across Leon’s cheeks. The man leant forward and spoke a few subtle words to him, then in a abrupt end to the fight, he dropped the katars at Leon's feet, landed a double palm strike to both his shoulder blades, and struck with two fists at Leon’s stomach. Reeling in pain, Leon’s consciousness slipped from his grasp, and he fell, gone from this plane of reality before he had even come to a resting position.