Night 57: The Coliseum

[el_aguila]

Touching the sandy grounds of the coliseum was a catalyst, and the progression of day did not mean the end of the process. By fortune or otherwise, this group's efforts were not allowed to halt simply due to the rising sun. Therefore, when nighttime was pronounced, those who had undergone the beginnings of an incomplete trial were pulled from their

Comments

[its_the_mileage]

He’d already had a feeling that was it. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it

[vsyourface]

It was one thing to suspect Aguilar's meaning, and another to be flat-out told "You and Pilgrim will die". Not lose a life - not get turned into coins - die.

As dangerous as the Institute had always seemed, and as often as people disappeared from it, death had never seemed like an immediate danger to Scott. Maybe it was all the time he had spent behind a protagonist shield in his life, but the most he ever feared in the Institute was getting hurt really, really badly. Or his friends getting hurt really, really badly. Or maybe having to face his inner demons. Scott was twenty-four years old. You didn't even mention the "D" word when you were that young, at least not seriously. You were still basically immortal at that age, at least in your own mind. To Scott, getting the wake-up call that "Yes, you, Scott Pilgrim, could die - like, right now" was like suddenly getting the 16-Ton Weight of Existence dropped squarely on his chest

[toxicspiderman]

[from here]“You think you’re going to get away with this?” Probably, but he wasn’t going to be the one to admit it. “You think everyone up there is just going to smile and eat pink shit? Some of us don’t look good holding a shovel

[el_aguila]

A threat without substance was mere words, and even if the crude man could backup his statements with actions later on, he might find himself coming up with nothing more than a choking tongue. Of course, Aguilar himself found no danger in a sullied name as much as he regarded a young man attempting to force through an unbreakable barrier as remotely concerning. He had been called worse in a legitimate setting, for one. For another, they were wasting their valuable strength.

Emotions had made them idiots. If they continued to hold to their sentimental morality, they had only themselves to blame for the outcome.

"Spare me your denunciations," the General remarked, almost casual in the deliverance. Dark eyes trailed to each patient, disapproval and slight exasperation set in place. "I will only warn you once. I am a non-factor in this decision. Keep your strength for your 'test'."