taking with him the last scraps of his old identity. * nyx *. This name, she had adopted it in the darkness of the night, had forged him in the tests and the battles, like a shield

magnetism. But it was not the tournament that fascinated her. It was not the possibility of taking the place of Leon , or even to prove its value. No, Elena had o

ied face, an attitude that did not let any of the secrets it wore appeared. She knew that the transformation was partial, but she felt ready. This name

s ... All were there, all were waiting. The tension was palpable. Elena sneaned in the crowd, observing the faces without seeing them, listening to the whisper

would take place. Every step she took her closer to her goal. The tournament was a theater scene, and she w

s, laughter, bursts of anger ... And there, in the center, the imposing silhouette of Leon . He seemed older, more worn. Time had not forgiven him. The Leon that she had kn

. She had to be up to what she had become. It was not a question of revenge, but of redemption. She needed that Leon the way, th

rom here. He felt tension in his gestures, certainty in his posture. She sent him back to his own look, withou

ied in a calm, measured voice, but which bore an underlying threat in her. She had no intention of ally with anyone. She was not there for others. She

r false identity, was based in the mass, but each gesture, each movement was calculated. The tournament would be a test of strength, but also a test o

place before her eyes. The tournament would start in a few hours. She knew that her role was not to stand out right away, but to slip among the competitors, to prepare in the shadows, until the time of the

glance at the others, and advanc

y as it advanced. His gaze swept the fighters around him, calculating the threats, waving the weaknesses.

ws, fangs ... The arena was embraced under the brutality of the clashes. But Elena was neither frightened nor hesit

g the air with freezing precision. The crowd froze, surprised by the speed and agility of this stranger. She was not like other fighters. She didn't

ure of his body emanated a raw power that shocked spectators. Those who thought they could underestimate it, p

ry of her art. She broke her opponents with disconcerting ease, silent violence. S

rrifying in the way she moved, in the way she crushed each attempted opposition. The looks arose on her with a kind of fascination mixed with f

ted Elena, observed without being able to look away. Basically, a strange feeling was born, a kind of latent awareness. He couldn't understand what he fe

back in her past. This formidable warrior, this woman who imposed her aura on all the others, he felt it, recognized her in a strange way. But

d not manage to detach her gaze from her. His muscles stretched, her heart began to beat stronger. Why did he feel this

he silhouette of Elena. This woman, this warrior, the one he had once rejecte

but he felt that something in his being recognized his presence. The truth was shirking, but it ended up imposing itself. Elena. She was. The soul mate he had rejected, the girl he had left behi

struck him hard. She was back. But w