Rivals Waaa Waaaaa • Trusted

“Not even close,” she whispered. Then she closed her eyes, thought of every minor inconvenience she’d ever suffered, and let out the triple-crescendo:

The shockwave hit Magnus like a tidal wave of pure, pathetic despair. He tried to counter—to roar back with a powerful battle cry—but his voice cracked. All that came out was a tiny, humiliated

The crowd gasped. Magnus the Magnificent, the five-time champion, was crying. Big, fat, silent tears rolled down his cheeks. His mustache drooped. Rivals WAAA WAAAAA

Lil’ Squall just smiled. She stepped forward, cupped her hands around her mouth, and let out a noise that shouldn’t have been possible from a human throat. It was high, piercing, and wobbled with a desperate, cartoonish sorrow:

Magnus staggered. His ears rang. But he was a professional. “Is that all you’ve got?” he snarled. “Not even close,” she whispered

She shrugged. “Fury breaks windows. But sorrow? Sorrow breaks people.”

The rules were simple. Face your opponent. Scream your loudest, most pathetic, most reality-shredding until the other one cracks. All that came out was a tiny, humiliated The crowd gasped

It wasn’t just loud. It was haunting . It sounded like a lost puppy, a canceled birthday party, and a dropped ice cream cone all at once.