After Wawa, the arena was never the same.
The air hung heavy—not with fear, but reverence.
Then the stone glowed again.
#45 – Nali, the Armless Child of Zazou
A hush fell.
Zion's expression turned grim.
"Zazou?" Ayira asked.
"That's not a name you speak without reason," Jalen muttered.
"He who sleeps beneath roots and devours nightmares," murmured Thalia. "The forest's fury. The beast of flesh and unspoken dreams."
Wawa, still at the edge of the arena, turned and smiled.
"She's not what they think."
And then Nali entered.
She walked barefoot, with no arms. Her shoulder stumps bore long, faded scars. Her back was curved from years of crawling. Her clothes were made from stitched leaves and bark. But her eyes…
They glowed.
Pupil-less. Glimmering silver-blue.
Like moonlight through jungle canopies.
Like stars reflected in predator eyes.
The crowd leaned in, confused.
The chosen of other pantheons whispered again.
"Another child?"
"Without arms?"
"Who is this Zazou?"
"Why does Bassoon keep sending these… broken things?"
But the ground shifted.
A howl tore through the sky.
The trees outside the colosseum bent toward Nali, though no wind stirred.
And somewhere… a sleeping beast stirred.
The Devoured felt it in the void.
The gods stiffened.
Even the sun dimmed.
Because Zazou had awoken.
The Challenger: A Son of Geb
From the Egyptian pantheon stepped Nahtef, son of Geb and Nut, born of earth and sky. He was muscle and might, stone-skin and sandstone blade. A god-child who spoke only when needed.
He bowed with respect. "Little one. I will not hold back."
Nali tilted her head.
And laughed.
"You couldn't if you tried."
Her voice was dry. Hollow. Like wind through bone.
The Fight
Nahtef moved first.
His stone blade cracked air, aiming to end it quickly. One swing.
But Nali vanished.
Not like magic.
Not like speed.
But like forest shadow.
She reappeared behind him, crouched.
Then… she screamed.
A pulse of sound—raw, broken, ancient. It wasn't a voice. It was the language of beasts. The cry of hunted things. The growl of mothers defending cubs. The screech of something feral, unnamed, and forgotten by civilization.
Nahtef dropped his blade.
His body locked.
His skin turned to bark. His arms rooted into the arena. His eyes closed—and he slept.
"Dream now," Nali whispered.
"Feed Zazou what you hide."
And he did.
Nightmares poured from him like smoke.
Faces. Regrets. Secrets he never told his family.
Sins he buried under rituals.
And Zazou devoured them.
When Nahtef woke, his strength was still his. But his fears were gone. Replaced by something else.
Humility.
Aftermath
The arena was silent again.
Zion approached Nali.
"You spoke to Zazou?"
"No," she replied. "Zazou spoke to me. Every night. Since I was born."
"Do you fear him?"
"I am him. Or at least… the part of him that still loves."
She turned to the crowd, baring the scars on her shoulders.
"The forest does not forget. But it forgives in ways only the wild can understand."
The crowd did not cheer.
They bowed.
The Stone Updates
Victor: Nali, Child of Zazou
And beside her name, a symbol appeared:
A silver claw wrapped around a dreaming eye