The battlefield was quiet in a way that pressed against the soul, a stark contrast to the deafening roars of the crowd moments before. Blood stained the once pristine marble floor of the Valhalla arena, the scent thick in the air. Yet, despite the carnage, Buddha stood there, chewing idly on a lollipop, his golden hair catching the artificial sunlight above. His posture was relaxed, like he hadn’t just emerged victorious from yet another battle against the gods.

A deep voice broke the silence.

“You’re so damn infuriating.”

Buddha cracked open a single turquoise eye, shifting his weight onto one hip as he turned toward the speaker. There he was—him. His so-called rival. The one warrior who always seemed to come back, no matter how many times Buddha left him in the dust.

“You keep taking these fights so seriously, man. Might wanna relax before you pop a blood vessel,” Buddha teased, his lips curling into that ever-present smirk.

Buddha turned away, walking lazily toward the edge of the arena, plopping himself down against a cracked pillar. He patted the empty space beside him. “C’mon, sit. You look like you need to chill.” His rival hesitated before reluctantly joining him, though he kept a deliberate distance. The tension between them was thick, but Buddha found it amusing more than anything.

Buddha leaned back, resting his head against the cool stone. “Heh. Y’know, it’s kinda cute how obsessed you are with me.”

“Relax, relax,” Buddha drawled, waving a hand dismissively. “You think too much, man. I don’t fight to win or lose. I fight ‘cause it’s fun. ‘Cause it’s me. And if you keep chasing me thinking there’s some grand prize at the end of it, you’re missing the whole point.” He popped the lollipop out of his mouth, tapping it against his rival’s forehead. “You should fight for you, not for me.”