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Kuwait - 2003
Two soldiers were getting a workout in before dinner. They wanted to make sure their bodies were in good condition. They knew they would make the big push into Iraq the next day. Everyone in their unit was doing one thing or another to calm their nerves. Some people slept, others played card games, and most stood around talking to one another and smoking. Most of the people had already finished their workouts and hit the showers.
"You ready for tomorrow," the first soldier asked. "This is the real deal, no more training wheels."
"Hmph, yeah," the second soldier said. "It's going to be wild. You ready for the ride in tomorrow?"
"Ugh, it's going to be a long fucking convoy," the first soldier said. "Those seats in the Humvee were not meant for these kinds of trips."
"Ha, like your ass hasn't taken a pounding from all the training," The second soldier laughed. "You should have calluses by now."
"Fuck you," The first soldier said, then started laughing. "You are the lucky one, up in the gun, getting all the fun and action. You got your weapons all cleaned right? Ready to go?"
"Yeah, they are spotless, until I put them up in the turret, this fucking dust is a nightmare," the second soldier said. "It's in my underwear. MY UNDERWEAR, for Christ's sake. I wish I would have wrapped all my gear and clothes in a garbage bag before packing it all up."
"Shit, you're telling me. My allergies have been on overdrive since we got to this shit hole," The first soldier said. "Doc gave me some meds, but they make me tired as hell, I can't take them when we are driving, I'd be knocked the fuck out, useless."
"I'm on my last set," the second soldier said. "You?"
"I'm done, I'm ready for a shower. What's on the menu for chow tonight," the first soldier asked.
"MRE's," the second soldier replied. "I got chili mac."
"Pff, lucky bitch," the first soldier said. "I better not get veggie omelet. What kind of evil asshole thought that meal was going to be ok?"
"Someone with no tongue," the second soldier laughed.
~~~~~~
Bob woke up to the sound of a light clink next to his head. He turned his head and saw it was his first meal of the day. He got up slowly and did a full body stretch reaching his arms high in the air. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He went to the sink, splashed water on his face, and used the washcloth to wipe himself down. Walking back to the plate and cup, he picked them up and moved over to the bars of his cage. He bit into his sandwich and looked at the other cages. No one was near the bars of their cage, they all stayed far back inside. After finishing his meal and cup of water, a door opened down below, and the Pitboss made his presence known.
"Whelp, you're up first today," the Pitboss yelled. "Get your ass down here and let's go."
Bob felt he was as prepared as he could be for the fight to come. He wasn't sure where his confidence was coming from, but he felt like he was trained for combat. He was excited to test out his ability and skills. He walked over to the bars and opened the gate to his cage. The doors were magically locked somehow, and could only be opened when the Pitboss came to get you for your fight. He climbed down the ladder and walked to the Pitboss.
"Let's go then," Bob said.
The Pitboss smirked and walked back through the door with Bob following behind. They didn't enter a hallway this time, instead, it was a smaller room with a closet on one wall and a little stool.
"This is the changing room," the Pitboss said. "Your gear will be found behind that door. Given that you have only one fight I doubt there will be much in there."
Bob walked to the door and opened it. There was a mannequin inside and an empty weapons rack. On the mannequin were the spiked leather bracers he got from Pain's favor.
"I would recommend taking the shirt off," the Pitboss said. "You won't get a replacement for a while. You will need to win a total of five matches before you see anything better than your current accommodations."
"And the pants," Bob asked.
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"Same for the pants," the Pitboss said. "Most people don't want to go out there naked."
"Worth the risk," Bob said. "Is there anything you can tell me about my opponent?"
"Aye, I told you his name," the Pitboss answered. "I can't tell you any more than that. There are rules that I have to follow."
"Got it," Bob said. "No worries then Boss."
Bob took his shirt off and let it fall onto the stool. He pulled the bracers off the mannequin and looked at them for a second.
Looking up to the Pitboss he asked, "How do I put these on?"
Chuckling the Pitboss showed him how to put on the bracers. It was simple after being shown how. There were two leather straps and buckles to secure them.
"Thank you," Bob said. "Is this the only place you are allowed to be nice to us?"
"No, but the hardass routine makes it easier for people to be more compliant," the Pitboss said. "Don't be getting used to it. You ready?"
Bob shook his head in the affirmative. The Pitboss opened the door they came in through and stepped in. Bob followed behind him and realized he was in the hallway again that led to the antechamber.
"This place is weird," Bob said.
They made their way to the antechamber and the Pitboss opened the door. This time he didn't step inside.
"In you go," the Pitboss said.
Bob walked into the antechamber and the door closed behind him. He was left in the dark, he couldn't hear anything from the arena. Anxiousness started creeping into his mind. He shook it off quickly.
"Head in the game Bob," he told himself. He had an idea. "Can I use my ability in here?" He mentally said the words and his ability activated. He felt something leave his body and a shape formed in his hand. He felt a little lightheaded from the experience. "YES," he shouted. The fire flask ability he used had summoned a smooth spherical ball in his hand. He couldn't see what it looked like yet, but when he moved his hand he could hear a faint sloshing sound coming from it. He felt better now that he had something he could protect himself within his hands.
The door to the arena started to open slowly. He could hear the rising sound level of the crowd cheering. The announcer's voice boomed over the noise of the crowd.
"Entering now," the announcer boomed. "With one win under his belt in a showing of savage brutality, BOB!"
The announcer drew out the length of his name when he said it. Bob walked into the arena, shielding his eyes from the light, trying to blink to clear them. After clearing his vision he looked down to the fire flask in his hand. It was a glass sphere with an amber liquid inside. He knew instinctually that when the outer glass broke the contents would spill out and ignite quickly. When he gained the ability he also gained all of the knowledge about it. He kept walking till he saw a white line on the ground of the arena, he felt like that was where he was supposed to stop and stand. He looked up at the private boxes looking for the one with the lesser gods that gave him favor. He found it, it wasn't in the same place he remembered, and there was a different symbol from last time. He didn't know what to think of the different symbols. He nodded towards the box.
"Entering now," the announcer boomed again. "With five wins, the favored for this match, CLITORIAN!"
"THE FUCK YOU MEAN FIVE WINS," Bob shouted. "THE FUCK IS THIS!"
The crowd could hear him and started laughing and jeering at him. His opponent jogged up to his white line. He had on a metal helm with horns jutting out, an axe in each of his hands, and a single leather pauldron over his right shoulder. The strap to keep it in place crossed his torso. He was a little shorter than Bob but had a much more muscular build. He couldn't see any details on his face, the helm he wore covered most of it. His chest had been branded. It was a bullhead with two massive horns. Bob looked back at where he seen the lesser god's that favored him and saw the same bullhead symbol there. He didn't have any more time to think about that as the announcer's voice boomed again.
"By the grace of the gods, let this match BEGIN," the announcer boomed. The crows went wild.
Clitorian hooted in enjoyment and charged at Bob. Bob had his eyes on him when suddenly Clitorian vanished. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He ducked and rolled forward. He felt Clitorian's axe slice by his head, barely missing him.
"Fuck," Bob shouted, and got back to his feet. Clitorian lunged forward again at him. This time there was a red glow on the axe's Clitorian wielded. Bob feinted dodging left and then dove to the right. The feint worked and he managed to get a little space. Clitorian whipped around and charged again. Bob was already starting to feel out of breath, this guy was way too fast and he knew he couldn't keep dodging.
With the axe heads still glowing Clitorian came for him again. He swung at Bob with his right axe and then his left in quick succession. Bob was forced to move back. Clitorian brought both axes over his head and leaped forward. Instead of diving out of the way this time, Bob lunged forward and brought up his left arm. He aimed at Clitorian's right arm. Clitorian wasn't expecting Bob to move in but the momentum from the axes couldn't be stopped at this point. Bob felt as Clitorian's hand got impaled on his spiked bracers, but his arm gave out quickly as he felt Clitorians left axe haft smashed into his elbow. The pain from the spikes changed the trajectory of the other axe. Bob knew instantly his arm was broken. He screamed when Clitorian yanked his hand free from the spikes on his bracers. This whole time Bob had the fire flask in his right hand, and was kind of surprised it hadn't accidentally gone off from being squeezed too hard. Clitorian had taken a step back from him and was getting ready to charge him again even though his right hand was mangled. Clitorian had dropped the axe in that hand. Bob took his chance and threw the fire flask baseball-style right at Clitorian's chest. Clitorian brought his left axe up to block. The glass sphere shattered on the head of the axe and the liquid inside continued forward for a brief second before igniting. Bob quickly used his ability again. He felt utterly drained this time from using the ability again but had enough strength to hurl it at Clitorian.
Clitorian was still stunned by the explosion and burns from the first flask and had no time at all to react to the second. It smashed into his upper chest just below his neck. The explosion from the flask blew his head off. The helm he was wearing flew up into the crowd.