#chronis

Sanction was patient. He was disciplined. He was not easily rattled.

And yet.

"Chronis." His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that suggested he was actively suppressing the urge to commit violence.

"Yes, dear friend?" Chronis grinned, standing a few feet away. In his hands—Sanction's lance.

Sanction took a slow step forward, his expression unreadable. "Hand it over."

Chronis twirled the lance effortlessly, his movements fluid, playful. "Ohhh, this? But it's so nice. Really well-crafted. Balanced. Elegant. You have good taste, you know that?"

Sanction extended a hand, tone clipped. "Chronis."

"You really should let me borrow it more often." Chronis tapped the side of the lance against his shoulder. "Maybe even keep it for a bit. You know, just to—"

Sanction lunged.

Chronis—being smaller, faster, and frankly, enjoying this way too much—sidestepped neatly, keeping the lance just out of reach. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Someone's impatient."

Sanction turned sharply, eyes narrowing. "You are testing my patience."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Chronis admitted with a shrug, tossing the lance from one hand to the other. "And wow, this thing's heavy. How do you even carry it around like this?"

Sanction didn't answer. He was already moving again.

Chronis, of course, dodged—again—leaping up onto a nearby platform with an ease that only made Sanction's irritation grow.

"Too slow," Chronis sing-songed, holding the lance above his head like a prize. "C'mon, Sanction, you can do better than that."

Sanction exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. He was going to get that lance back. The only question was how much force he was willing to use.

Chronis, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear. "I mean, you're tall, sure, but you're not that fast. And definitely not as nimble as me."

Sanction narrowed his eyes. "I do not need to be nimble. I simply need to outlast you."

Chronis blinked. "...Huh."

Then he processed the very slight shift in Sanction's stance.

"Ohhh, you're gonna wait me out." Chronis tilted his head, still smirking. "Gonna make me tire myself out so I have no choice but to give it back."

Sanction said nothing.

Chronis waggled his eyebrows. "Joke's on you. I never get tired."

Silence.

Chronis' grin faltered just a little.

More silence.

Sanction stood perfectly still, arms crossed.

Chronis shifted his weight. "Okay, this is weird."

No response.

"...Seriously, dude, just chase me already."

Sanction just stared.

Chronis fidgeted.

Then he huffed. "Alright, fine." He leaned over, lowering the lance juuuuust enough—

Sanction moved in a bright red blur.

Before Chronis could react, Sanction grabbed the shaft of the lance and yanked it free.

Chronis let out a startled yelp as his grip failed him, and he stumbled off the platform, landing unceremoniously on the floor with a grunt.

Sanction, now properly armed once more, inspected his lance with a critical eye. No dents. No scratches. Good.

Chronis, still sprawled on the ground, looked up at him with a sheepish grin. "Sooo. We cool?"

Sanction twirled the lance once, resting the blunt end against the floor. He stared down at Chronis with the unimpressed gaze of someone debating whether or not to separate Chronis from his shade.

Eventually, he sighed. "On your feet soldier."

Chronis sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "So... is this the part where you kill me, or...?"

Sanction turned on his heel, already walking away.