The training ground felt more like a war-zone with the tension and anticipation that permeated in the air. Warren was the first to move; like a storm breaking, Elektra reacted just a split second later, launching at each other with explosive force, sparks meeting sparks in a cacophony of energy.

Warren, with his newfound confidence, made each of his steps and strikes more deliberate- more precise. The electricity that shrouded his body like an armor was alive, fueling his every action, sharpening his senses to the tenth degree. He was stronger, faster, but most importantly, for the first time in his life, he was on the offensive.

To Warren’s dismay, it seemed like this wasn’t enough. Elektra, for the first time since they both awakened, stopped holding back. Compared to him, Elektra truly was the incarnation of lighting. Each one of her signature kicks maintained the speed and power of a wrecking ball. Yet even with her power, when they met in the melee range, she seemed to dance around him like a ballerina.

Dodging Warren’s confident charge, Elektra swung a spinning roundhouse, her leg cutting through the air like a knife. Warren barely dodged her by ducking below, his back bending just enough to feel a rush of wind as her kick whizzed past his hair. The moment he straightened back up, Elektra twisted into another kick aimed towards his ribs.

Warren reacted this time at the right moment, allowing himself to catch her leg with both his hands in a tight grip. Elektra, however, expected it, and her eyes glowed ominously. With a flick of her wrist, she shot out a blast of electricity.

The electricity surged through Warren’s body, an agonizing wave of pain overwhelmed him, his muscles seized up violently against the assault. Every nerve in his body felt ablaze, the searing energy crackling through his veins like a wildfire. He clenched his jaw and his teeth ground together as he tried as he tried to quell the onslaught within his body. His vision blurred as the electricity maintained its siege on his body, every consecutive breath becoming harder and harder to get out.

It wasn’t time for him to give up.

No. Not this time.

With a guttural roar, Warren forced his body to move, channeling all his willpower in one action. He dug his fingers into Elektra’s pants, as he gripped her legs, his muscles screaming in protest. In one fluid motion, he twisted her limb with all the strength he could muster, attempting to throw her off balance. In that moment Warren had thought his wild move worked, but before he could even blink, Elektra tilted her body, her stance faltering as Warren forced her into a spin.

Feeling the shift in momentum, Elektra immediately capitalized on it, with aplomb she allowed Warren’s throw to carry her into a somersaulting flip in the air, her body arced beautifully through the air, twisting in a display of perfect balance and control.Warren could only watch in awe, his eyes wide as she landed lightly on her feet, unharmed, her expression one of mild annoyance, as she blew on her nails.

Elektra was simply a genius.

With a tremble beneath them, the ground reacted to the sheer force of their clash, causing shockwaves to reverberate across the wooden flooring. The air was thick with an acrid scent caused by the release of their Esper abilities. The fight was far from over, as Warren’s hands, now sparking with residual energy, twitched as he prepared for Elektra’s next move. He was already expecting another of Elektra’s relentless attacks, his mind racing to keep up with her blinding speed.

As if on cue, Elektra rushed towards him. Her leg snapped out in a vicious kick aimed directly at his head. Just barely evading her attack by ducking, Warren saw the scorched trail across the floor, caused by her kick, the raw energy burning the very ground beneath them.

Warren’s instincts kicked in. His fist crackled with power as he countered Elektra’s attack with a swift jab to her stomach, hoping to shift the balance in his favor. Elektra moved so quickly that she effortlessly deflected his punch with precision. The force of her block sent a jolt up Warren’s arm, the impact reverberating through his bones.

Elektra struck before he could recover, slamming her foot into his stomach with a brutal sidekick. The impact felt like a sledgehammer against his torso, knocking the wind from Warren’s lungs. He staggered back, gasping sharply as the world spun around him. His vision swam, the edges darkening as the pain radiated from his core, threatening to pull him under.

But Warren couldn’t afford to stop, couldn’t let the pain win. Stricken with desperation, he compelled his legs to move, pushing forward relentlessly. A need to prove himself, to show that he could stand against someone as powerful as Elektra, fueled every step, every strike,. His fists clenched, his knuckles white as he prepared to launch another attack.

However, Elektra showed no mercy. She moved with a lethal grace, her speed and technique far beyond anything Warren could match. She delivered a series of rapid kicks, each one capable of knocking out her brother with seamless and effortless movements. The air crackled with electricity as her attacks rained down on him, forcing Warren to stay on the move, his mind working frantically to keep ahead of her.

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Then came the moment that would seal his fate. In the heat of battle, Warren thought he had seen it, an opening, the tiniest of gaps in Elektra’s defense, a weakness he could exploit. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into a powerful right hook aimed directly at her jaw.

But it was a trap. Elektra had left the opening intentionally, baiting him into a mistake. She sidestepped his attack with a fluid ease that left Warren off-balance and overextended. Before he could even register what had happened, she was behind him, moving in for the kill like a seasoned predator.

Her leg lashed out in a sweeping kick, the blow catching Warren squarely in the back. The immense force propelled him forward, causing a shockwave of pain. His body crashed to the ground, skidding across the wooden floor, the rough surface scraping against his skin as he tumbled to a stop.

Warren lay there, his breath ragged, his body battered and broken. The realization of his defeat settled over him like a heavy shroud, the cold stone wall he leaned against, a harsh reminder of the price he had paid for his miscalculation. The fight had been brutal, and in the end, it had left him shattered.

Looming over him, Elektra watched as Warren’s chest heaved with exertion. Warren saw that familiar face of disappointment and anger. That’s what he thought at first. That’s when he saw the intense gleam in her eyes and the slightest of smiles, a trickle of respect towards him.

“You’ve improved,” she admitted grudgingly. “But you’re still not strong enough, Warren. You’re still weak and pathetic.”

Warren couldn’t muster a response amid the overwhelming pain. His body screamed in protest, but he forced himself to speak, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I want Sabir,” he said, each word a struggle. “You said it yourself. He’s not going to stick around.”

Elektra’s eyes darkened at the mention of Sabir. She had forgotten about the wager and the name continued to cause her body to ache in memory of their fight in The Commons. She lowered herself to Warren, who was still sprawled on the ground. “Sabir is a pawn,” she said coldly. “Just like you, Warren. A tool to be used and discarded when he’s no longer useful.”

Warren clenched his fist in anger, yet he calmed himself to not show any reaction. It’s what Elektra wanted. To beat him physically and emotionally. He won’t let it happen, not this time. “Maybe you’re right,” Warren said quietly, his voice strained. “But I think he’s better off with me.”

Elektra let out a sigh. Why was her brother being so adamant? She couldn’t help but have a tinge of regret in bringing Warren to that torture room. She shook her head, forgetting about such thoughts, instead choosing to smile, a cold amusement washing over her. “So, the pet dog finally bites back,” a smile curled at the corner of her lips. She looked down at Warren, who lay battered and bruised at her feet, “I suppose the mutt deserves some reward for showing a bit of spirit.”

Without warning, Elektra planted her foot firmly on Warren’s chest, causing him to be pinned to the ground. Warren let out a tight gasp from the unexpected pressure, stealing the little breath he had left. His ribs trembled from the initial force. Elektra leaned in. “You want Sabir?” she said, her tone as sharp as a blade. “Fine. You can have him. But don’t think for a second that you’ve won anything here. He’s a part of my game just as much as you are.”

Warren nodded weakly. He had achieved his goal, although not the way he had planned. It wasn’t the victory that he envisioned, but he had fought hard and though thoroughly beaten, he had secured Sabir’s life, albeit temporarily. It was all thanks to him that Warren could even stand up against his sister. The triumph was bittersweet. The fight had revealed once again his weakness. But it was something. A first step forward.

“Thank you,” Warren croaked out, the words strange and bitter on his tongue as he showed gratitude towards the very person who tore him apart.

Elektra’s eyes narrowed, seeing that disgusting face of thankfulness from her brother. It made her want to throw up. She contemplated the option of either obliterating him entirely or leaving him to bear the burden of his defeat. “Warren,” she began, her voice filled with an eerie seriousness,, “don’t think for a moment that this changes anything. You’re still a half-breed, still beneath me in every way that matters. You’re nothing but a dog who’s learned a new trick.”

Elektra increased the pressure on Warren’s chest, while she hesitated, considering what she should say next. “But…” her expression unreadable, “you’ve shown today that maybe, just maybe, there’s more to you than I thought. It’s a shame you’re still a disappointment. Don’t you dare waste what little potential you have, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” A note of reluctant acknowledgement crept into her tone as she finished her speech.

She lifted her foot off his chest, the action as dismissive as stepping over dirt. With her regal and commanding posture, Elektra turned away from Warren, leaving him to watch the ceiling. With her departure, he experienced a tumultuous rush of emotions - pain, anger, and a slight, begrudging admiration.

Warren had lost, but ultimately he had gained a glimmer of Elektra’s acknowledgment, something he desperately craved from his family. She had recognized his defiance, his refusal to back down, and that small victory was enough to stir something deep within him. Warren knew it wasn’t over. That small bit of approval couldn’t satisfy him.

For the first time in his life, he felt ready. Ready to fight, to protect those he cared about, and to carve out his own place in a world that had always sought to crush him underfoot.

As the sun disappeared behind the estate walls, Warren remained in the courtyard, his heart still pounding, but a newfound determination fueling him. The fight was far from over, but today marked a turning point. Today, despite losing and Elektra’s harsh words, he showed he could fight back.

Sabir was right. All he had to do was try.

He was Warren Voltaire, and one day, he would rise above them all.