The winds of the Ice Age had finally begun to calm, leaving behind a frozen wasteland dotted with bodies, both living and dead. The white expanses stretched out as far as the eye could see, punctuated by clusters of trees, their branches heavy with frost, and the occasional shattered remnants of past battles. The cold still lingered in the air, but the real danger had shifted beneath the surface—unseen and deadly.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we're down to 25!" Announcer 1's voice crackled through the arena, brimming with excitement. "The Ice Age may be over, but the action is just heating up! Who's ready for the next phase?"

  Announcer 2, ever the strategist, followed up. "The field is narrowing, and the remaining competitors are moving into the next deadly stage of the Power Royale. With 25 fighters still standing, the stakes are higher than ever. And with each step, they edge closer to the ultimate prize."

  William Dangerfield moved cautiously through the trees, Angelo Vasquez and Kindliker Kluckson at his side. Their breath formed clouds in the crisp air as they trekked through the snow-covered landscape. The ground beneath their feet crunched with each step, but the silence that surrounded them was deafening. They knew the arena had more in store for them—something lurking just beyond their senses.

  "Man, I'm still freezing my balls off," Kindliker grumbled, shivering. "Couldn't we have gotten a jackpot that, I dunno, warmed us up or something? This sucks."

  "Quit whining," William snapped, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "We need to stay sharp. The Ice Age was bad, but whatever's next could be worse."

  Angelo, in his human form for now, nodded in agreement. "I don't like this silence. It's too...calm. Something's coming, I can feel it."

  They continued their slow march through the forest, their boots sinking slightly into the snow. William's thoughts were racing, still haunted by Tommy Tomorrow's dying words. What had he meant about Benito? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. He had to focus on the present—on surviving the next challenge.

  As they walked, William suddenly felt something odd underfoot. The ground felt...sticky. He stopped, looking down to see a strange, glistening substance clinging to his boot.

  "What the hell is this?" William muttered, kneeling to examine it closer. It wasn't snow, and it wasn't ice. It was a thin, almost transparent web, barely visible against the white of the snow.

  Angelo crouched down beside him, his eyes narrowing. "That's not natural. It's like spider silk."

  Kindliker stepped back, visibly uneasy. "Spider silk? Man, I hate spiders. What are we dealing with here?"

  William carefully pulled his foot free from the web, his mind racing. "This isn't just any spider silk. This is a trap. Someone's been here, setting this up."

  Angelo's expression darkened. "Delton Finches. It has to be him. The guy with the web powers."

  William stood up, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees more carefully now. "And if it's his web, that means he knows exactly where we are."

  "Great," Kindliker muttered, looking around nervously. "Just great. So what do we do? Wait for him to come and pick us off?"

  "No," William said firmly. "We follow it. If we can find where it leads, we might be able to take Delton out before he takes us out."

  Angelo nodded. "It's risky, but it's better than waiting for him to ambush us. Let's move."

  The three of them began to follow the web, careful not to touch it directly. The strands led deeper into the forest, winding through the trees like a sinister thread pulling them toward an unknown fate. The further they went, the more webbing they encountered—thicker strands, more complex patterns, all leading them deeper into Delton's trap.

  Announcer 1's voice rang out again, excitement building. "Oh, what's this? Our heroes are on the move! But where are they headed? And will they survive the spider's web?"

  Announcer 2 chimed in, his tone more serious. "They're venturing into dangerous territory. Delton Finches is a master of his environment, and he's set up a lethal trap for anyone who dares to enter. The question is, will William, Angelo, and Kindliker be able to outsmart him, or will they become his next victims?"

  As they ventured further, the forest began to change. The trees were covered in more of Delton's webbing, some of it so thick it looked like sheets of ice. The air grew colder, and a sense of dread settled over the trio.

  Then, they saw it.

  In a clearing ahead, nestled between the trees, was a massive spider web. It stretched between the trunks, thick and glistening, with large, bulbous shapes hanging from it. As they got closer, they realized with horror what those shapes were—people. Bodies, wrapped tightly in silk cocoons, suspended in the web like grotesque ornaments.

  William felt his stomach churn at the sight. These weren't just competitors—they were victims. And now, they were next.

  "Holy...crap," Kindliker whispered, his voice trembling. "We...we can't go in there. That's suicide."

  Angelo's eyes narrowed as he studied the web. "We have to. If we don't stop Delton here, he'll keep picking us off one by one. We need to end this, now."

  William nodded, though his gut told him this was a bad idea. But they had no choice. It was either face Delton now or risk being hunted down later. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, leading the way into the clearing, toward the center of the deadly web.

  Unbeknownst to them, hidden in the shadows, Delton watched their every move, a cold smile playing on his lips. His fingers twitched, feeling the vibrations in the web as they approached. He could feel their fear, their hesitation. And he knew he had them right where he wanted them.

  This was his domain. And they had just walked into his trap.

  The forest loomed dark and ominous, the silence only broken by the occasional snap of twigs underfoot as William Dangerfield, Angelo Vasquez, and Kindliker Kluckson cautiously moved forward. They were hunting, but they were also being hunted. Delton Finches, with his web-spinning, wall-climbing abilities, had lured them into his trap. They knew it, and they knew they had to act fast if they were going to survive.

  "And here we go, ladies and gentlemen!" Announcer 1's voice rang out, electrifying the air. "Our heroes are closing in on the spider's lair, but will they manage to avoid becoming his next meal?"

  Announcer 2 chimed in, his tone more analytical. "Delton's web is both a physical and psychological weapon. It's not just about trapping his opponents—it's about wearing them down, breaking their spirits. William's metal manipulation might be the key to getting out of this alive, but will he think of it in time?"

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  William's mind raced as they closed in on the massive web that stretched between the trees like a sinister net. He could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of a deadly encounter. His fingers itched to summon the metal that he could bend to his will, but he hesitated. Delton was out there, watching, waiting for them to make a mistake.

  "Stay close," William whispered to Angelo and Kindliker, his eyes scanning the treetops. "Delton's around here somewhere. Don't let your guard down."

  Angelo, in the form of a sleek black panther, nodded silently. His keen animal senses were on high alert, but even he was struggling to pinpoint Delton's exact location. Kindliker, meanwhile, was sweating bullets, his eyes darting nervously from side to side.

  "I-I don't like this, man," Kindliker stammered, his voice shaking. "What if he's right above us?"

  "Shut up and focus," William snapped, though he couldn't deny the sinking feeling in his gut.

  Without warning, the ground beneath their feet gave way, and they were suddenly engulfed in sticky, glistening webbing. The trap had been sprung. Thick strands of silk shot up from the ground and dropped from the trees, ensnaring them in a matter of seconds. William tried to react, to use his metal manipulation to break free, but the webbing was too fast, too strong.

  "Damn it!" William cursed, his body straining against the bonds. The more he struggled, the tighter the webbing seemed to become.

  Angelo, still in his panther form, thrashed and snarled, his claws useless against the impossibly tough silk. Kindliker, meanwhile, was practically hyperventilating, his panic rendering him completely immobile.

  "Oh, this is not looking good for our heroes!" Announcer 1 exclaimed, the excitement in his voice palpable. "Delton's got them right where he wants them!"

  "And now," Announcer 2 added, "the question becomes whether William can find a way out before it's too late. Delton's web isn't just sticky—it's designed to sap their strength, both physical and mental. Time is running out."

  William's thoughts raced as he struggled against the webbing. He could feel the metal around him, buried in the earth, hidden in the trees. If he could just focus, if he could just concentrate long enough...

  But then Delton appeared, his figure sliding down a strand of webbing like a spider descending from its web. His cold, emotionless eyes stared down at them, devoid of pity or remorse. To him, this was just another step in the game.

  "You're in my world now," Delton said, his voice a low, icy drawl. "And in my world, you don't get to walk away."

  William gritted his teeth, trying to summon the strength to fight back, but the webbing was draining him, sapping his energy with every passing second. Angelo let out a low growl, but even he seemed to be weakening. Kindliker, trapped and terrified, could only whimper in fear.

  Delton smiled—a cold, cruel smile—as he began to weave more strands around them, tightening their bonds, ensuring they wouldn't escape.

  "Say goodnight, gentlemen," Delton whispered.

  Darkness swirled around Kindliker Kluckson as he struggled against the webbing, his body trembling with fear and exhaustion. The sticky strands held him tight, sapping his will to fight. William and Angelo were both trapped beside him, their faces grim as they fought in vain to break free. But Kindliker couldn't focus on them—his mind was drifting, pulled back to a time long before he ever set foot in the Power Royale.

  The schoolyard was a cruel place, filled with laughter and jeers that seemed to echo endlessly in Kindliker's head. He was 13 years old, awkward and weak, a perfect target for the older kids who loved to torment him. Today was no different.

  "Hey, loser!" one of the bullies sneered as he shoved Kindliker to the ground. "You think anyone's ever gonna care about you? You're just a waste of space!"

  Kindliker's glasses flew off his face, clattering on the pavement as the bullies closed in. He scrambled to his knees, reaching out to grab them, but another kick sent him sprawling. The pain was sharp, but it wasn't just the physical hurt that made him want to cry—it was the truth behind the words. He really was a loser. No matter how hard he tried, nothing ever seemed to go his way.

  "You're never gonna amount to anything!" the ringleader laughed, towering over Kindliker. "You might as well just give up now!"

  The other kids joined in, their taunts blending into a cacophony of insults that filled Kindliker's ears. He curled into a ball, trying to block it all out, but the words pierced through his defenses like knives.

  "I just want them to stop," Kindliker whispered to himself. "I just want to be left alone..."

  Back in the present, Kindliker's heart pounded in his chest, the memories of those days bubbling to the surface with painful clarity. He felt small again, weak and powerless, trapped in a web that was more than just physical. Delton's web wasn't just holding him down—it was suffocating him, drowning him in his own self-doubt and fear.

  The announcers' voices buzzed in his ear, distant but somehow still present.

  "And it looks like this could be the end for our contenders!" Announcer 1's voice boomed. "Delton's web is unbreakable, and these three are running out of options!"

  "But there's something in Kindliker's eyes," Announcer 2 observed, his tone more serious. "Could it be that this loser finally has something left to prove?"

  Kindliker squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push away the voices, the memories, the pain. The web tightened around him, and he could feel the despair creeping in, the same despair he had felt all those years ago. But this time, something was different.

  "No," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I'm not that kid anymore. I'm not weak."

  A surge of anger swelled within him, fueled by years of pent-up frustration and bitterness. He was sick of being the joke, sick of always being the one left behind. He had come this far, survived this long—he wasn't going to give up now.

  "I'm not a loser," Kindliker growled, his voice gaining strength. "I'm not a waste of space!"

  His pulse quickened, and he could feel something stirring deep inside him, a power he had never truly understood or embraced. The webbing that had felt so suffocating just moments before began to loosen, the strands quivering as if reacting to the shift in Kindliker's resolve.

  The air around him crackled with energy, and suddenly, with a flash of realization, Kindliker understood. His power wasn't just about nullifying others' abilities—it was about taking control, about not letting anything or anyone hold him down.

  "I'm not worthless," he said, louder now, as the webbing started to disintegrate around him. "I'm... enough."

  With a final shout, Kindliker unleashed his power, a wave of invisible force radiating out from his body. The webbing that had ensnared him, William, and Angelo vanished into thin air, the sticky strands dissolving like mist. The oppressive weight lifted, and for the first time in his life, Kindliker felt truly free.

  William and Angelo gasped as they fell to the ground, freed from Delton's trap. Kindliker stood in the center of the clearing, breathing heavily, but with a new light in his eyes.

  The tension was palpable as the webbing dissolved into thin air, freeing William Dangerfield, Angelo Vasquez, and Kindliker Kluckson. The trio took a collective breath, their eyes locked on Delton Finches, who stood across the clearing, his muscular form twitching with barely-contained power. His cold eyes scanned them, calculating his next move.

  But before Delton could strike, a ripple of energy pulsed through the area—Kindliker's doing. He had reactivated everyone's powers, the air crackling as their abilities surged back to life. The metallic scent of blood and sweat hung in the air as the battle resumed.

  Announcer 1's voice blared through the hidden speakers, filled with a manic energy. "And just like that, folks, the tables have turned! Our contenders are back in the game, and this is about to get real messy!"

  "Kindliker may have started out as a joke," Announcer 2 added with a hint of respect, "but he's shown that even the most unlikely players can change the tide of battle."

  William's eyes narrowed as he felt the familiar pull of metal beneath his skin. The power surged through him like an electric current, and with a flick of his wrist, shards of metal tore up from the ground, forming a jagged shield in front of him. "Let's end this," he muttered to Angelo, who had already started shifting, his bones cracking and muscles stretching as he transformed into a massive, snarling wolf.

  Delton smirked, his arrogance unshaken despite the odds. "You think you can take me down?" His voice dripped with disdain as he shot webs in every direction, hoping to ensnare them once more. But this time, they were ready.

  William sent his metal shards flying toward Delton, who dodged with lightning-fast reflexes, his body twisting in mid-air. But as he landed, Angelo pounced, his wolf form a blur of fur and teeth. Delton tried to shoot another web, but Angelo was too quick—his jaws clamped down on Delton's arm, tearing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch.

  Delton screamed, his strength waning as he struggled against the savage assault. Blood sprayed across the ground as Angelo ripped into him, his primal instincts taking over. For a moment, it looked as though Delton might break free, his remaining arm flailing wildly as he attempted to shove Angelo off. But the wolf was relentless, his teeth sinking deeper into Delton's neck, crushing his windpipe.

  With one final, desperate gasp, Delton's eyes glazed over, his body going limp. Angelo stepped back, his muzzle dripping with blood, as Delton's corpse slumped to the ground, lifeless.

  Announcer 1 let out an excited shout. "What an incredible finish! Delton Finches, the spider of Power Royale, has met his end at the jaws of our fierce wolf contender!"

  Announcer 2's voice was more measured, but the excitement was clear. "This was a crucial victory for our heroes. But they'd better not rest easy just yet. There are still powerful players out there, and things are only going to get more dangerous."

  As Angelo shifted back into his human form, panting heavily from the effort, William placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good work, man. We're one step closer."

  Kindliker, still trembling from the intensity of the fight, nodded. "Yeah... but who knows what's next?"

  Their answer came in the form of a sudden, ominous silence, broken only by the distant sound of footsteps. The three of them turned in unison, eyes widening as the air grew colder, the shadows deepening around them.

  "And now, for an unexpected twist!" Announcer 1's voice returned, dripping with glee. "It seems a new player is entering the field... or should we say, an old champion? That's right, folks! Four-time Power Royale winner Junichi Sakamoto-Rodríguez is getting closer, and with his ability GHOST KATANA, the stakes have just been raised!"

  Announcer 2's voice followed, filled with a sense of impending doom. "Junichi's GHOST KATANA is no ordinary weapon—it's a blade that exists in both the physical and spiritual realms, able to cut through anything, including the very essence of its target. Our contenders had better be ready, because this is a fight they might not survive."

  The chapter ended with the chilling image of Junichi Sakamoto-Rodríguez's silhouette appearing on the horizon, his katana glinting in the dim light as he drew ever closer.

  To Be Continued...