Chapter 33: Grand Stars

The intermission between quarterfinals and semifinal was rather long--but considering who was going into the next match, the delay was understandable. All spectators had been asked to leave the arena and come back on the next day, wherein the tournament would continue until the end. That left everyone with a good opportunity to rest up, socialize, and get to know most of the other fighters better. Only so much could be discovered simply by fighting another person--their true habits needed to be learned.

Gathered together in the same small section of a dining room were most of the contestants that had fought, some bearing grudges and wounds, others eagerly anticipating the fight. Cattia, Tania, Jerwon, Zet, Diana, and even Ilyich were in the dining room as well, affiliating themselves with their respective companions and learning of the fighters who had participated in the tournament. They all had a fascinating story to tell--at least, those who were not shamed to shed off their mystery.

Everyone was filled in for the stories of Sahn, Dustin, Melena, and Greg (mostly), but everyone else seemed a mystery. For example, few people knew of Sleipnir, the six-armed man who Greg had narrowly defeated in the first rounds. Few knew that he came from the same galaxy that the blue-skinned Emily Rogue had, and fewer still knew that he and her were acquainted. Sleipnir was a pureblooded mercenary, who would perform almost any job if he was paid. He had a criminal’s past, but seemed uncaring about it for the most part. His participation in the tournament was purely for pleasure and personal gain.

Ilyich demanded to know what went wrong in the Atman/Malecanthrite battle, and was given a rather dull response. “I was merely defeated by a more powerful warrior,” said Malecanthrite quietly as he sipped down a drink. “It’s as simple as that. The stories, therefore, must be true.”

“I should not have placed so much money on you!” growled Ilyich angrily. “You have failed! ... But ... even I must admit that you did not fall easily. You were put up against that famous monk. I think, however, that you would have done better against anyone else.” Malecanthrite could only nod his head and drink his drink. He was acting rather quiet just then, willing to associate himself with the man who defeated him. The large, nearly-impenetrable mountain of a Kai’thug bore no grudge towards Atman, though he did think it disgraceful to be left out so early.

“It was no fault of mine,” said the old monk with a shrug. “Your name was placed next to mine randomly. It would seem fairer to have you and I fight in a later match.”

“Don’t worry,” grumbled Malecanthrite. “I still have my pride. But General Redwing, perhaps you should take more account of legends and stories. That was my weakness; I pray it is not your own.” Ilyich grumbled and spat out a nasty word, but kept mostly to himself as he rested up.

Meanwhile, Melena was hanging onto every word that Stone was saying--and then some. She also hung onto his arm, and kept a pure smile almost every second he spoke. Jerwon did too, but for a completely different reason. He had heard his old friend tell his stories many times, but never ceased to tire from them. Stone was an enthralling creature, a symbol of nobility, courtesy, and honor, and entertained everyone he came in contact with--some, it seemed, more than others.

“So tell me,” said Melena, “how come a guy like you is in these nasty fights? How come you’re not off pacifying some war?”

“Who says that I am not?” replied Stone with a smirk. Melena gave him a big nod and a bigger smile.

“Ah. But really, what are you doing here? What’s your purpose?”

“ ... Well,” he said after a pause, “the Seraph people and cultures are slowly dying out. My breed is becoming more rare upon each year’s passing. I wish to locate somebody who will enable me to rebuild and regroup my people and their way of life. Entering into this tournament may be my best chance. Surely, if she is not a participant, the one I am looking for is receiving a transmission of the fights. Who would not??”

“She?” parroted Melena. “Oh, I see. So is she like your girlfriend?” The twinge of jealousy was nowhere in Melena’s gentle emerald eyes. Stone smiled and let out a chuckle.

“No, nothing of the sort. I have never met her.”

“Then how do ya know she exists?!” He paused, let out a sigh, and wearily shook his head.

“ ... I don’t.”

“WHAAAAT?”

“I am merely going on speculation and hope,” he said gently. “Seraph Jewel may or ... may not exist. But as long as I have hope, then I will never stop searching.”

“So it’s ‘Seraph Jewel’, eh?” Stone nodded his head, and a small, more respectful smile graced Melena’s mouth. “I see. And when you find her, then what?”

“It is said that the Lady Jewel has amazing psychic powers,” he told her. “If I were to find her, I would thus be able to find where all my kin are. Together, we may yet have a second chance at rebuilding our culture.”

“I see...” With the venerating smile still on her mouth, Melena gave Stone’s arm a gentle rub and made him a surprise offer. “Well ... Stone ... what say we make a little deal? If I win the tournament, or if I at least win the semis, I’ll give you a big chunk of my winning so you can find Miss Jewel easier.” Stone nearly fell out of his chair as he heard the young lady declare such generosity, and gave her a surprised look as he blurted out his disbelief.

“A ... are you certain you would want to do that, Lady Melena?!”

“It’s my money,” she shrugged. “This Seraph Jewel ... she’s really important to you, right?”

“Ye ... yes...”

“And a lot of money would help you out, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, you may not have any idea...”

“Then by all means, you should take it!” she insisted with a smile. Stone’s face turned from surprised to astonished, and then to overjoyed. The poor Seraph nearly cried--but instead, he sat on his chair and shook his head, too amazed to do anything else.

“Lady Melena ... that is a very generous offer! But ... is this your way of getting me to do something for you?”

“Only if you absolutely insist upon it,” she replied. “Stone, I like you a lot. I’m not gonna deny it. I never like denying my feelings about anything. People would say that I get emotional, but it’s really just the way I feel about things. And ya know, I like you enough to do this for you, free of charge--I mean, unless you want to do something for me!” Stone’s mouth hung open in a big smile, and he could do nothing but let out an amazed sigh.

“Lady Melena ... I ... I thank you from the bottom of my heart...” The Seraph quickly took her hand into his and kissed it, making her blush and grin a little. Despite other people’s doubts, Melena truly had been selfless when she promised to give her winnings to Stone. She liked him a lot, she really did ... but more so than that, she felt compassion for his plight, and wanted to help out any way possible. To be completely honest, there was no ulterior motive behind the act whatsoever.

Ketra “Gauntlet” Glang had watched the whole spectacle, and although she too doubted Melena’s motives, she couldn’t help but let a small smile trace her mouth. Her friend and sparring partner could truly be honorable from time to time, and even selfless if she really wanted to. Melena could also be an annoyance, and a bit dangerous from time to time--and a hopeless magnet for every male in range--but all in all, she wasn’t a bad woman.

Neither was Gauntlet, though on the inside, she was a torn soul. There had been things she had seen and terrors she lived through that ate at her heart even then. She had fought horrifying enemies and suffered through mass amounts of destruction and even genocide, only to come out of it all a self-reliant shell of a humanoid with hardly any need of emotions--or words. Ketra Glang had declared a vow of silence long ago, after witnessing an event so horrible that only Melena knew about it, and had rarely spoken unless it was needed.

As of recent, she had been opening up again, mostly after finding a good friend and an even greater sparring partner in Melena. Ketra was still self-reliant and depended largely upon herself, but she was also beginning to talk and even let her emotions loose again. The previous smile proved it.

“Destiny,” she said to her nearest neighbor. Dustin Harper, carefully drinking a large cup of coffee, glanced over in her direction to see what she meant.

“Eh? What’s that?”

“Destiny,” repeated Gauntlet again, pressing her palm to her stomach, indicating herself. Only Melena seemed able to interpret her words; everyone else was stumped. Dustin tried, however.

“What about it?”

“Mine,” she said, and elaborated later with the word, “Fight.”

“It’s your destiny to fight?” She shook her head, and pointed in the direction of the arena.

“Fight. Win. Destiny ... Lost.”

“ ... I see,” whispered Dustin as he began to understand. “You believe it is your destiny to win the tournament, and you are in turmoil because of your loss?”

“Correct,” she replied. Not understanding completely, he shook his head.

“Why?”

“ ... Birthright,” she replied in a hushed voice. He gave her an inquisitive look.

“Lady Gauntlet, I’m afraid I don’t understand. Can’t you explain any better?” A pause.

“ ... No.” He sighed.

“Then for the moment, I suppose I will have to believe you.” She thanked him by nodding her head, and a few moments passed by. Suddenly, as Dustin’s archrival Minerva sat next to the cold and quiet creature known as Frost, Gauntlet pointed a finger to the dark-haired woman.

“Explain,” she asked of him. He turned around and saw Minerva sitting there.

“Explain what?”

“History.”

“You mean why Minerva and I are... ?”

“Correct.” Dustin sighed, reluctant to speak of the painful matter, and gave Ketra a wary but hot gaze.

“It is a long story ... involving lots of years of strife and suffering ... and one single instance of betrayal. I am sorry, my lady, but only my partner Sir Woolyford knows, and he isn’t telling anybody.” She quietly nodded her head, and took in a deep sigh.

“ ... Grudges...”

“Hm?”

“ ... Ruinous,” she warned him. Quietly, Dustin nodded his head, and returned his attention to the coffee he was drinking. Thankfully, Minerva had not overheard them; she was busy speaking to Frost, who had more on his mind than it seemed.

“I really am sorry,” said Emily with a sad smile. “I don’t usually resort to cheating and using dirty tricks. I ... just really wanted to win, that’s all.”

“Well, you accomplished it,” sighed Greg as he slowly poured hot cocoa down his throat. “But don’t worry. It’s a pretty dishonorable way to leave the arena, but if my male biology’s to blame, then there isn’t anything I could have done. Although, Miss Rogue, I would like a rematch with you sometime--a fair one, if you don’t mind?” The beautiful blue-skinned woman chuckled playfully, and agreed to his terms. Jerwon, who was smiling ear to ear (who wouldn’t, what with Melena, Cattia, and Emily all around his area?), didn’t seem to care too much if Emily cheated. Greg deserved to be knocked at least once for calling him “kid” and “junior” all those times, anyway, so it was only fair. And unlike Greg (or Melena, for that matter), Jerwon knew that the best tricks that Emily had were still up her proverbial sleeves.

“Can you forgive me too, Melena?” asked Emily in a genuinely sweet voice. The amber-haired beauty let out a tiny humph, but decided that it would be childish to continue a grudge forever. Her friend Gauntlet never was a very big supporter of discord stretched out over long periods of time, so why should she be?

“Yeah, I guess ... And since we’re gonna be going at it next, you really can’t use that on me.”

“I wouldn’t be able to even if you were the kind of woman who was attracted to other girls,” remarked Emily. “The female Baytan pheromone only works on men, and vice versa for the male Baytan. If I were a guy, however, you might be in trouble--or maybe not. I’m sure that Greg would have beaten me.”

“I guess we won’t know until that rematch!” he exclaimed as he rested his hands behind his head. “Anyway, Emily’s right. We should put our pasts behind us and enjoy this break. I really can’t envy anybody here: I wouldn’t want to be Atman, and I wouldn’t want to be Grand, either--but then again, I’d hate to be in either one of your shoes.”

“Yeah, lucky us,” muttered Melena. Just then, a mysterious figure, pale and bald and silent as the moon, floated past their table and into the streets. He gave Melena a look first, then Atman, before vanishing completely. In response, Melena shuddered.

“Brrr!! I don’t like that Grand guy! There’s something not right about him! Klarana and Ketra couldn’t even touch him! Hey, Master Atman! I guess you gotta take care of him! Looks like you’re the only one who can!” Atman responded quietly--so quietly, in fact, that the silence disturbed Melena. She shrugged, and wished that she could have that kind of composure.

The calm that Atman previously demonstrated was still there by the time he and Grand faced off against each other. He would need all the concentration he could muster for this fight: Grand had easily brushed aside both Gauntlet and Klarana, two very fierce and experienced warriors, without receiving any damage himself. The mysterious humanoid creature kept that same eerie grin throughout the entire tournament, and had not spoken a single word. Its power was great but mysterious, so Atman certainly had his work cut out for him.

The old monk, who had tried to study Grand since the creature’s first fights, decided to make the first move as the bell rang out. He rushed towards the pale creature and slammed his fist right into Grand’s torso, crashing it into the rubbery skin. Grand flinched slightly, but otherwise kept his grin and remained unharmed. Atman gave the bald creature a studying gaze, and connected another blow, directly on its chin. Grand’s head jerked to the side slightly, but remained undamaged.

Atman flew into a fury, launching his foot at his opponent’s body in a spectacular flurry of kicks. Each landed directly on Grand’s body, making small impressions but otherwise leaving the creature be. Atman then whirled his head around, and used his long braid of hair as a whip to snap at the other fighter’s face. Grand was stung, but still kept that maniacal grin the entire time. Atman suddenly delivered two mighty blasts from his fists, one on each side of the face, then spun around and used his momentum to slam his foot right into Grand’s ribcage. The creature briefly jerked from the force of the blow, but was merely stunned. The grin remained.

“What the heck!!” squealed Melena in disbelief. “What’s the deal?! Atman’s slamming this guy with everything he’s got, and he’s still just smiling! What’s this guy made outta, rubber?”

“Perhaps,” muttered Gauntlet darkly. She, who had fought Grand herself, hugged herself as she watched the fight continue. Melena shook her head and sneered at the thought.

“Man, that would totally suck! That’s not fair!” Fair or not, Atman’s attacks didn’t seem to work on his opponent. After delivering a brief beating, the old master jumped back a good distance and studied his opponent, searching for chinks in the pale creature’s armor. He was not breathing hard at all--he was still calm as the morning mist--but his eyes burned intensely as he tried to figure out his adversary. Atman rushed back into the fight a moment later, and screamed out a vicious shout as he rammed his foot up directly into Grand’s chin. The creature’s head flew back slightly, exposing his neck completely, but he still had that unfazed grin.

“That is what I thought!” shouted Atman. He suddenly grabbed his opponent by his armpits and flung him straight into the ring, and then, slammed the flat edge of his hand into the creature’s exposed heel. To everyone’s shock, Grand suddenly let out a powerful scream, one vibrating with shockwaves of unimaginable pain. The creature writhed and convoluted on the floor, frothing like mad and yelling even madder. Needless to say, everyone was amazed.

“No way!” hissed Diana. “How did he do that?! I thought that Grand monster was indestructible or something!” Zet, who was just as perplexed, could only shake his head in awe.

“Whatever the reason, it certainly gives new meaning to the term ‘Achilles Heel’...” Diana ignored his dry humor and kept her fiery green eyes locked onto the ring, wondering how the old monk knew of such a weakness. Thankfully, Atman was kind enough to explain it to the announcer.

“I have heard of these beasts before,” he said. “Their bodies are nearly indestructible, and can twist and turn into any design, like taffy. But they are not infallible, as you have just seen. Their weakness is literally the Achilles Heel--a single strike can be debilitating to them.”

“And that is what makes Atman so great!!” exclaimed the announcer. “Not only brawn, but brain as well! That just goes to show that an experienced veteran is oftentimes the most challenging opponent one can face! There’s a reason why Atman has never lost a fight, and now it has been demonstrated!!” The crowd cheered at their champion, but there was no smile from Atman’s mouth. He kept both eyes glued formally on Grand, who was twisting and jerking but far from out of the fight.

“It would be wise for you to surrender, now that I know your weakness,” he recommended. “You may still be able to put up a fight, but my experience will enable me to endure until I can exploit that heel of yours again. There really is little point in continuing this battle.” Grand shivered and shook for awhile, and slowly turned its pale head towards the old man. For the first time since the tournament’s beginning, there was not a smile on his face, but a scowl.

“I show you, “ hissed the creature in a terrifying, demonic voice. “I make sure you regret discovering that weakness of I. Is high time for I to stop playing these games, and start fighting for real.“

“I don’t like the sound of that,” muttered Tania darkly. “This Grand creature was tough enough when he was smiling, but now he’s gonna fight for real??” Cattia darkly nodded her head, and subtly reached for both her guns.

“Get ready for anything,” she whispered darkly. “I have a bad feeling about this, and my intuition’s usually right.” Tania agreed, and kept her enhanced robotic eye locked on the ring. In fact, all eyes, mechanical or not, watched Grand as he slowly stood to his feet, and replaced the scowl with a vicious snarl of rage and insanity. Atman stood his ground and prepared for anything his opponent could throw.

To the amazement of literally everyone in the arena, Grand began to change. First he began to grow to a monstrous size, then his body shifted into a completely different shape. Its pale-blue skin ripped and shredded out, like there was a creature lurking inside his body that was now bursting out, and then the whole physiology of the creature underwent a terrifying metamorphosis. The audience began to scream and wail as a monster came out, and in a final explosion of freedom, a horrifying demon emerged from its prison. Atman could no longer feign stoicism as he gaped in terror at the being in front of him, and with a gurgled squeak, he managed to identify the beast.

“This is not Grand!” he exclaimed. “This is ... a Grand Devourer!!!“

“NO!” screamed Stone, who wore pure fear on his face. “The ... Grand Devourer? It can’t be! I thought that was just a horror story! How can this be possible?!”

“Stone, what in blazes is a Grand Devourer?!” demanded Jerwon as the audiences’ screams grew louder and louder. Chaos and pandemonium erupted like a volcano as the beast roared out a vicious cry, and every sane person scurried away from the arena as quickly as they could. The referee, announcer, and staff tried to keep order in the place, but there was so much anarchy that everything was a useless gesture. Stone swallowed darkly, and tried to explain the situation.

“In the old Celestial Wars, the ones that took place long before the birth of space travel or even widespread transportation, there was a creature known to us Seraphs as the demon of all demons--a King of Monsters, so to speak, whose power was so astounding that in a single breath, he could wipe out an entire city. These terrors were called Devourers, for their ability to suck entire towns in their mouths. They were the most dangerous and most feared monstrosities in existence, and it took an army of Seraphs to slay just a small handful! But ... I never thought that I would ever see a Grand Devourer!”

“What’s the difference?!” demanded the Leduadian. Stone’s face turned as hard and cold as the rock he seemed to be named after, and beads of terrified sweat marked his face. The Seraph actually shivered out of fear as he spoke.

“ ... Let us say ... they are the worst of them all,” he said in a low voice. “Fortunately, there was only one in existence, the Emperor over all the other evil creatures. I thought that Seraph Space, Seraph Star, Seraph Sword, and Seraph Shield, the four great legendary Seraphs that guard the universe, had destroyed it already--but I suppose my information was wrong...”

“What can it do?!” screamed Jerwon, who was so overcome with fear that he had soiled himself. Stone was darn near ready to do the same.

“ ... I have heard rumors that this beast has the power to destroy an entire planet...”

“ ... No...” Too shocked to scream, Jerwon could only gaze at Stone in dumfound helplessness, too petrified to do anything else. The noble winged man, however, summed up his courage and his senses and shook his friend out of the trance.

“We must do something to contain it!” he insisted. “Running will get us nowhere! This was Master Atman’s fight a moment ago, but I am sure that even he will need our assistance! Jerwon, you are faster on foot than I, so rally as many of your friends as you can and gather them together!”

“What about you??!!” Stone paused, allowing himself to look upon the ghastly abomination that was the Grand Devourer.

“I’ll think of something,” he swore. “ ... At least I hope I will. Pray for my safety, my friend, and I will do the same for you!” Jerwon nodded his head, and Seraph Stone flew off to join Atman, in hopes of defeating or at least containing the monstrous beast.

“Don’t get yourself killed, Stone!!!” shouted Jerwon--and with that, the elfish Leduadian ran as fast as he had ever ran in his entire life.

The shock of seeing the Grand Devourer emerge had not worn off just yet, but thankfully, most every one of the participants in the tournament had kept their heads in the situation. Putting aside their grudges and differences momentarily, they all teamed to up tackle the beast that had invaded their sport. Even the referee, who had stayed behind because it was his job, permitted the fighters to take the battle out of the ring. That was good, because with a single leap, the Grand Devourer knocked Atman far into the seats, with himself plummeting afterwards.

The old master temporarily fought back with everything he had, but the Grand Devourer was as fast as it was powerful. Atman’s smaller size did not grant him a better speed; the demonic creature moved like a wrecking ball, with the same amount of power behind its crushing blows as well. Stone was already at the beast’s back, whacking and slamming his staff at the creature as hard as he could. The blows were little more than minor stings, and with but a single flick, the Grand Devourer easily sent the Seraph plummeting.

Klarana charged in to avenge her early loss, and coiled herself around the creature’s immense legs in an effort to contain it. Her razor-sharp sword tail swatted at its thighs from time to time, but its skin was so thick that it was like cutting at rocks. She at least kept the monster from moving around a great deal; most everyone else was either protecting themselves or protecting others.

“There isn’t anything that you or I can do,” said the six-armed Sleipnir as he held Greg back. “We would only be torn apart if we tried to fight. That thing is more powerful than the human imagination can permit.”

“But I don’t wanna just stand here and do nothing!” shouted the younger man. Sleipnir nodded his head darkly and tried to think of something they could do.

“Maybe we could move the wounded,” he suggested. “Emily! Come here!” The blue-skinned warrior leaped over to where her acquaintance was and asked what he wanted. “The young man and I are going to try and carry any of the injured away from that beast. You’ll know where to go from there.”

“Right. Good luck.” Sleipnir saluted, and took Greg with him as they made their way over to where Seraph Stone was. Meanwhile, Dustin and Minerva had a few issues they needed to take care of...

“This is absolute madness!” she shouted as the Devourer blew apart a portion of the roof with a blast from its mouth. “If we don’t stop this thing then the whole arena will collapse on us--and maybe the planet as well!”

“This does put us in quite a predicament,” sneered Dustin as he reached for his sword. He drew it, and gave Minerva a bitter stare. She nodded her head, and drew her own sword as well.

“Our discord shall have to be put on hold for now,” she said. “Right now there are more important things to take care of! Harper, let us work together one last time, for the same cause.”

“Agreed!” He and his dark-haired archrival shook on it, and both charged towards the Devourer with their swords flashing and crashing. Woolyford, who had a keen knack of following his partner no matter where he went, emerged from out of nowhere (it seemed) and looked at the spectacle. If rams could show emotion, then Woolyford showed nothing but surprise. The unusual creature joined the battle, running towards the immense Devourer at top speed.

“No, sir Woolyford, don’t be a hero!” shouted Dustin. His partner ignored him, and with a powerful slam, the ram bashed into the Devourer and sent it tumbling forward, like it had been struck by a meteor. Nearly everyone in the arena had their mouths gaping wide open in shock.

“No way!” whispered an amazed Greg. “That is one strong goat!” Woolyford snorted out steam as it faced the Devourer again, and to the surprise of everyone except for Dustin and Minerva, it actually spoke.

“Who wants some?! Eh? You want some more?”

“It can talk too??!!” screamed Greg. Dustin, who was bust slashing at the demon’s legs, whirled around briefly and whistled for his partner.

“Pay him no mind, young man. There are more important things at hand!” Greg shakily nodded his head, and managed to continue hauling the injured away so they could recover.

“This is madness!” shouted Diana as she dove towards the beast. She aimed her spear straight at the monster’s exposed back, and with her flying speed, drove it straight into the Devourer. The beast groaned and clawed at the new invader, but considered the injury little more than a bee sting. On the surface, Zet, Cattia, and Ilyich (surprisingly) put their artillery together and blasted at the creature’s belly while Dustin and Minerva slashed at it.

More chaos and madness ensued as everybody ganged up on the gargantuan Devourer. As Greg, Sleipnir, Tania, and Jerwon rescued the injured, nearly everybody else was taking an offensive. Sahn slashed at the demon with his energy whip, a recovered Stone went back to attacking the monster’s backside, Malecanthrite took the front lines along with Atman and went at the demon full-force (and endured quite a bit of punishment along the way), Klarana kept the creature tied down, Gauntlet used her unique weapon to blast or slash at the monster’s face, and Melena hung onto the creature’s other foot as tightly as she could. The loveable girl was screaming out a long, violent string of profanities as she tried to hold the demon down, making the fight seem almost comical.

But with a sudden roar, the Grand Devourer trembled and sent a powerful shockwave right out of its body, shoving all its attackers back with a massive wave of power. Everyone, regardless of their strength, was thrown back, leaving the great monster free to once again destroy as it saw fit. There was one individual who stood in its way, however: a humanoid creature who was more demon than man, a creature with eyes of deathly blue and skin colored like ash. He growled, exposing rows of teeth, and aimed his palm at the beast.

“Little one,” growled Frost, “even if it pains me, and even if it drives me insane, I shall send thee back to the abyss that thou hast crawled out of! Your master, the infamous Legion, shall welcome you back very unexpectedly, and very much destroyed! May the fires of Hell comfort thee after what I pour out unto you!” With a vicious roar, Frost shot out a terrifying wave of chilling ice from his palms, while muttering and chanting in an arcane tongue.

An entire glacier trapped the Grand Devourer, freezing it solid and destroying its body with its frigid cold cage. Regardless of the demon’s size, the block of ice held the monster tight, all of him, and prevented him from moving or--as it seemed--from surviving. Frost roared out in dull pain, and clutched his chest as a knife of agony seemed to dig deep inside. Cattia, who was closest, rushed over to him.