Void-crossed

On a white sanded plain, in a dimension above our own, there exists an extraordinary spectral coliseum. Nothing else exists here except the arena, and nothing else happens but the fights that occur within it. Countless shimmering formless souls line the seats, baying and cheering in ethereal voices, as a hooded figure - in a robe that seems to reflect the mottled blue-black of the sky overhead - endlessly cuts down their foes. They never tire, and never cease, each fading opponent replaced by a new member of the crowd. They know that each believes truly that they can beat them and earn their prize, but none watching have ever seen a victor.

Another combat starts. Another victory. They wipe something invisible from their scythe, and bellows a challenge in a voice that would reach your brain without going via your ears - if, of course, you could still have ears here.

"NEXT."

Another soul leapt down, gently climbing down facing the wall, and as she touched the sand, she took her form. A white rabbit this time, it being common to see non-human forms here in a place where people could choose. Regardless, there was still something odd about her. Something they couldn't quite place, as she turned to face them and opened her golden eyes.

"It's been a while, dear," she smiled warmly, in a soft English accent. "About 89 years, give or take a few."

It was her. The crowd noise faded from their ears unnoticed, as recognition lead them to smile for the first time in... well, 89 years.

Give or take a few.

"Well, I haven't gone anywhere, as well you know," they chuckled in response. The figure raised their hood, revealing another rabbit head, their fur black as midnight, eyes filled with starlight and space, the infinite majesty of the universe contained in a look that would penetrate your heart.

"They'll have to replace you one day, don't you think?" She tilted her head, her smile still kindly.

"What, and miss our appointments? It's almost worth not having had a holiday since... well, I’ve never had a holiday."

"I see you've been working on your sense of humour, dear." A quarterstaff formed in her paws, as she readied herself. "I hope you've been working on your form, too."

The black rabbit grinned and leapt, covering the space between them implausibly fast, hefting their scythe in an arc towards her head, but she was already low to the ground, bringing her staff around to sweep their legs. They danced backwards, hopping the sweep, shifting the scythe to their right to block her follow-up strike. They smiled.

“I don’t think I’m the one that needed to work on it,” they said.

She pouted jokingly. “Give me a break! You get to fight all the time! And yet,” she punctuated her sentence with a quick jab with her staff, catching them powerfully in the ribs – “you’re still surprisingly slow.”

They staggered back a little. “Cheater!”

She poked her tongue out with a ‘blep’ and readied once again, inviting them on.

The fight continued for hours, if hours had any meaning in this place. The two danced back and forward, feints and flurries, missed trips and parried blows, neither gaining the upper hand, the crowd roaring louder than ever. Finally, a sharp improvised strike on the white rabbit’s staff left her reeling back. The black rabbit grinned, flipping their scythe to drag the blade up to her chest and…

They hesitated.

She seized the moment, kicking the blade sideways and standing on it, planted her left foot on the black rabbit’s chest, and kicked their jaw with her right, somersaulting backwards to land gracefully on one foot while her opponent was sent sprawling on their back. Shaking the spots out of their vision, they got ready to spring up, only to be met with a staff in their throat and a very smug rabbit.

“Yield,” she said.

They thought about it. “What if I don’t?”

“You know what will happen, and I’d rather not.”

They smiled. “Fine, I yield.”

She offered a paw and pulled them to their feet, her staff fading away. “You let me win.”

“I’ve never let you win, I just made a mistake that you… fiercely took advantage of,” they said, massaging their jaw back into position.

“You never make mistakes.”

“First time for everything, moving on. So, what’ll it be this time?” They stopped for a second. “Sorry, I mean… CHOOSE YOUR PRIZE, MORTAL,” their voice booming.

She smirked. “Make me a lizard. Oh, and make it a good one – you made me into a tiny dinosaur once and I was back here five minutes later, and don’t you dare think I don’t know that you did that deliberately.”

Their smile faded. “Reincarnation again? Everyone gets that. Are you sure that you don’t want to go to-”

She cut them off, resting her paw on their shoulder. “I have a lot of lives left to experience, I think. Anyway, if I went there, I’m not coming back, and you’d have nothing to look forward to.”

“I don’t know, someone comes along every once in a while and gives me a challenge…” they said, somewhat unconvincingly.

“Really…?”

They sighed. “No. Nobody ever does, except you. Nobody ever beat me before you, and nobody has since.”

“Well, there you go then. You need me to keep your ego in check.”

She turned to go, walking to the exit as she had many times before. She was only a few steps away before she came back. “Did you ever pick a name, like I told you?”

“I did.”

“…And?”

“…Almat.”

She smiled, “Good name, Almat.” She lifted one of his paws, gently kissing it. “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you mine.”

With that, she walked away, faded and was gone, and Almat was alone again. Deep down, though, they knew it wouldn’t be for long. There were always more challengers, and besides – they could tell she definitely wouldn’t be happy with being a newt for a decade or so.

Almat chuckled to themselves, letting their rabbit form drop like a cloak, before planting their scythe in the sand. "NEXT."