[The Coliseum is deathly silent. The air smells of burnt ozone and coppery blood, and still feels slightly 'charged,' as though lightening had struck only seconds before. It's almost suffocating, the atmosphere, and the prickles of gooseflesh on the skin of anyone entering the area would not be a surprising reaction.

There's a dark stain on the ground towards the centre of the building and closer inspection reveals it to be a mix of blood and scorched earth, though there is no body nearby, nor trail of the red liquid to indicate any direction a wounded person may have fled in.  And it is red - whoever shed it is...or rather was...untouched by Death here.

The perceptive may notice the silence break, then - a single gasp, from just beyond the arena proper.  A sharp and heavy intake of breath often heard when one is trying not to sob.  Mu is wedged into a corner, just out of sight from the ring. His knees are drawn tight against his chest, and his arms cover his head. His Cosmo, for those who can feel it, is a roiling, unstable mess of emotions - remnants of a bone-deep rage, heart-stopping terror and, overshadowing it all, a very profound  sorrow.

In his corner he shakes, trying to come to terms with what he's just done.

His hands are stained red. They smell of copper and burnt ozone.]




note: occurs directly after the end of this (which we're working on)