“Fight!”

Carmen dropped to a crouch, repeating the actions for the one special move she’d never forget. As she and Chip both snapped, an Electroshock burst from Chip’s fingertips, striking Mr. Stone. Yellow electricity crackled around his body. Carmen rushed closer. In her mind, she pictured Chip punching him twice before finishing with an uppercut.

Thought turned to action, and Chip sprang forward, delivering two heavy hits before launching Mr. Stone into the air. Carmen leaped high after him, finishing the combo with a rough kick back to the ground. Her ankles stung, but Mr. Stone hit the ground hard, with forty percent of his health reduced to red.

He rolled to his feet in an instant, staying in an odd stance — low to the ground, weight shifted to his back foot, his other foot extended in front of him. Carmen raised her eyebrow before firing another Electroshock, this time missing over his head.

She grit her teeth, and crouched before the next electric blast. Mr. Stone flipped to the side, inhumanly fast — she swore she saw the thin streak of lightning catch his leg, but it had no effect. He sidestepped into the street. Again and again, Mr. Stone flipped out of the way, razor-sharp nerves reacting to the crack of lightning, predicting her blasts before they came.

Carmen wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, frustration growing as she paused her assault. Mr. Stone grinned, the unspoken message clear. You can’t hit me with that. What now?

That’s not all I can do.

As she retreated backwards, Mr. Stone edged forward, following slowly. She lunged towards him, dropping to a slide. Power coursed through her veins. Yellow electricity flashed around her legs, carrying her across the sidewalk in a burst of speed.

Mr. Stone didn’t flip away this time; the Charge Kick knocked him onto his back. But, Carmen wasn’t prepared when the burst of speed went away. As she rolled along the sidewalk, her glasses flew off of her face, reducing the world around her to a fuzzy mess.

She reached for her glasses, but Mr. Stone had already recovered. He grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet. For a moment, he stood on one leg, the other knee raised in front of him. Carmen backpedaled, putting up her guard, but Mr. Stone slid down and struck her throbbing ankles with a kick. Swept from her feet, helpless to defend herself, Carmen braced for impact.

His following knee launched her into a tree. Pain flashed through her head, leaving the world’s worst headache behind. Dazed, Carmen rubbed her head, bracing herself against the tree as she rose.

Half of the first round had ticked away, just like half of Mr. Stone’s health bar had disappeared. He hadn’t shown any visible signs of injury, aside from the scuffs and dirt along his white tracksuit.

Watching his movements and the way he responded to her Electroshocks had taught her enough. Mr. Stone was a Stance Fighter, someone who shifted through multiple defined stances as they fought, changing special moves and attributes. The first stance was easy to spot: low to the ground with his weight on his back foot. But, what was that other stance with the raised leg? He shifted out of it quickly. Was he hiding it on purpose?

Only one way to find out.

Instinct shouted to rush in with her Charge Kick again, but the last time she tried to use it replayed through her head. Instead, she sprinted down the sidewalk, jumping in for an aerial kick. He sidestepped just before her attack landed and rose quickly, slamming his knee into her stomach.

Carmen gasped for air. She stumbled onto the grass, fighting her breakfast back down. Mr. Stone took a step forward, continuing his advance, but she mentally ordered Chip to raise his snapping hand. Her opponent took the feint — he flipped to the side, dodging the Electroshock that never came.

Carmen threw out a low kick, somewhere between a real kick and a stomp. Mr. Stone’s stance kept him low to the ground and he was out of his flip, but the attack connected anyway. Her foot struck his extended leg, and hitstun kept him frozen for a breath — long enough for Chip to follow with an electrified kick.

As Mr. Stone groaned in pain, paralyzed, Carmen enacted the action for Electroshock. Chip grabbed him by the ankle, tossing him into the air. She jumped after him, wild electricity crackling against her palms, begging to be released.

“Electroshock!” she shouted. Empowered by her voice, the special move came out as an EX Electroshock. By shouting out the name of the attack as they used it, any Fighter could enhance the special move with half a bar of Meter. Lighting jumped from her hands as a dense bolt of electricity, blasting Mr. Stone to the ground with the full power of a storm.

A sliver of green was now all that stood between Carmen and winning the first round. The electricity kept her target paralyzed on the concrete, and Carmen slammed her foot into his gut as they landed. Chip’s translucent leg floated over her own, strengthening her final kick.

Mr. Stone let out a final gasp of pain.

The referee appeared next to both of them. “Down!” he shouted.

Carmen backed away, catching her breath. On the other side of the road, Daniel cheered for her, whooping and clapping. She actually did it — she beat one of the Fifty! The entire fight wasn’t over, but winning a round against one of them was either beginner’s luck or evidence of blossoming skill.

Hopefully my parents will see that.

The referee touched Mr. Stone’s neck, and he climbed to his feet, free of wounds. A few scuff marks still stained the stomach area of his athletic white jacket. “You’re better than I thought, Carmen,” he said. “You especially have potential when it comes to mix ups and projectile games.”

“Thanks.” Carmen raised her fists. “I watch a lot of TV.”

Mr. Stone smiled. “Let’s see how you handle this.”

As the referee counted down to round two, Mr. Stone entered a new stance. He planted one foot on the ground, and raised the other knee high in front of him. Something changed about his demeanor; his expression hardened to low eyebrows, squinted eyes, pure focus.

Carmen’s stomach dropped. This wasn’t the same normal, friendly old man she spoke to before — now he was Flow, one of the Fifty.

But, she wouldn’t prove herself to be weak.

“Fight!”

Carmen fired an Electroshock, but instead of flipping away, Flow stood his ground and blocked the attack, taking no damage. She crouched down low for the next Electroshock, hoping that crouching low as Chip fired above her would confuse the opponent. But, Flow was too smart for that, too.

She closed the distance with a Charge Kick, keeping upright this time. Flow’s guard halted her burst of speed, and he recovered first as she drew back from the movement.

Carmen gasped.

“Crane Kick!” Flow shouted, hopping past her leg and planting his foot in Carmen’s chin. The powerful kick threw her several feet away, reverberating through her skull. A line of blood trickled from her nose. Carmen shot a glance to her health bar — 40% of it filled with red, stolen by the sheer power of that one EX Crane Kick.

Her eyes crossed the road. Head spinning, she glanced past Daniel’s shocked gasp, locking eye contact with her father.

They’re watching. You have to prove yourself.

Carmen shot to her feet, shrugging the pain away. She engaged with a jump-in attack. Flow blocked, and she tensed up to defend against the coming Crane Kick. He hopped in place, but the kick never came. Just as her mind raced to figure out her next action, he dropped to the ground and slid into her ankle, kneeing her face as he rose.

“Crane Kick!”

A second EX Crane Kick decimated her health, blasting through her body like a shockwave. Next thing Carmen knew, she was on the concrete, staring at her blurry, gasping parents across the street.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

They’re watching. You can’t be weak.

Her muscles throbbed and her bones creaked with every breath, but the rushing adrenaline gave her the strength to rise. As she fought for breath, fought to stay conscious, Flow stood in his raised stance, waiting for her next move.

Carmen let out a shout. Chip followed her thoughts, swinging in with a savage punch. The moment he moved, Flow kicked her in the arm, freezing her by hitstun. It wasn’t hard, but his legs were longer and faster — dang it!

He struck the same place twice and lunged in with his knee. After that, the side of his blurry shoe flying at her face was her last sight before total blackness took over.

A moment later, the referee stood over her, helping her back to her feet from her spot on the sidewalk. Her wounds had healed, as always, but she didn’t expect her glasses to return unbroken, too.

“Carmen!” the mother called out. “Honey, you can’t do this! Just forfeit!”

“I hate to put you down, but yeah, she’s right!” Daniel shouted over the honk of a passing car. “You’ll lose again at this rate.

Her father stayed silent, merely crossing his arms. Carmen clenched her fists. The stoic expression on his face always enraged her — she never knew what he was thinking, how he was judging, or how the past few seconds would decide her next few years.

Carmen raised her fists once more, denying every word from their mouths. Nothing could ever make her concede. Not before, and not now. Normal fights ran to three rounds, and both herself and Flow had won once. She still had a chance; the winner of this round would end it all.

“Final round!” the referee said.

A few passerbys strolling past had stopped, eagerly watching for the fight’s conclusion.

They’re watching. Show them who you are.

“Fight!”

Chip let out a savage caw before engaging Flow with a flurry of punches. His onslaught blurred against Flow’s guard, striking the transparent blue dome like a thunderstorm. Chip paused as she swept her leg, striking low while her opponent was focused higher. He easily crouched down and blocked her low kick, returning to his initial low stance.

The stance where he clearly couldn’t block.

Chip clasped his hands together and swung down at Flow. He flipped out of the way, jumping back and forth, dodging both Carmen’s and Chip’s attempts to attack. After weaving past a stomp, he sprang off of his back foot, comboing a rising knee into a Crane Kick.

Her glasses flew into the street, and her ribs ached from where his shoe made contact. As she shot back up, frustration sizzled in her chest. He blocked most of her attacks, dodged the rest, and saw through all of her mixups. What the hell was she supposed to do?

Flow jumped closer on one leg. Carmen crossed her arms; she wouldn’t dare contest what came next. He hopped, and she tensed harder, but nothing followed. No attack, no advance, no anything — all he did was switch legs.

Carmen hesitated. Was she supposed to attack back, now? Was this her chance?

Her opponent took advantage of her baffled state, striking with a low sweep to break her guard. He stuck to the same combo: a rising knee into a painful Crane Kick.

She tumbled along the sidewalk, scraping one elbow and the other forearm. As both of her arms burned, Flow jumped high from one leg, landing a few feet away. Carmen put up a standing guard. Instead of attacking, though, he enacted strange, twitchy movements. Jerking side to side, stepping back and forward, crouching — Carmen watched, baffled.

What is he doing?

By the time the lightbulb in her brain flickered, it was too late. Blue aura gleamed around his body, and he lunged closer, keeping his knee raised. She blocked high, expecting a super Crane Kick. But, Flow ducked down low and slammed his fist into her stomach.

“Monsoon Style: One Million Drops!” he shouted.

A storm of cerulean light filled her vision. Flow moved impossibly fast, blurring between every pinpoint-accurate strike. Every pressure point in her body shattered with pain, like a thousand raindrops combining into a roaring cacophony of thunder and lightning.

The final, heavy fist in her chest was her body’s last straw. An infinite blackness replaced the world around her as a dreamless sleep, void of a sense of time or space, reminding her of her immediate failure. Yet, in its complete lack of temperature, the void was welcoming; it didn’t judge, it didn’t berate, it didn’t scorn.

A glowing hand pierced through the darkness, pulling her back to the real world. The referee healed her wounds and returned her glasses, before teleporting next to Flow.

“K.O.! Flow wins!”

Across the street, her mother hung her shaking head, and her father sighed. Carmen sat upright on the sidewalk. Her throat tightened. She clenched a pebble in her fist, summoning every ounce of strength she had to not cry.

But, a tear slipped through the floodgates, rolling down her cheek. For once, she didn’t care that her parents were there to see her cry, or that Daniel was there.

I lost.

Her only chance to prove herself to her parents, and she lost. Even worse, she lost spectacularly — after multiple beatdowns and a flashy ultimate move. Never in a million years would they let her become a fighter after seeing that. She felt the crushing weight on her shoulders, felt her dreams screaming down the drain, and it then became impossible to hold back the tears.

Daniel crossed the street, moving to her side. “Are you okay? Do you need help getting up?”

She shuddered with every breath, and heat flushed through her face. Clearly, Daniel took her silence as an answer and helped her to her feet, crossing the street with Mr. Stone in tow.

What now? Where was she gonna be in five years, or in ten years? Was she doomed to a life of mediocrity, taking over the family business after her parents couldn’t work anymore?

Her father looked down on her, his expression solemn. Carmen averted her eyes. As her father kneeled down to her level, Daniel stepped aside. He pulled her into a tight, almost suffocating hug.

“Dad, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Cheer up, mija. Future star Fighters don’t apologize.”

Carmen and her mother gasped at the same time.

“What?”

“Did you change your mind?” her mother asked.

Her father let go, remaining on his one knee. “Yes. After seeing that, I’ve changed my mind. I think Carmen should go through with it.”

His words played out in front of her, surreal, as if she were watching someone else’s life. Carmen gulped, wiping her eyes. “You…I thought you said no. I lost. I thought—”

“I don’t think anyone expected you to win against me, Carmen,” Mr. Stone chimed in. “You may have lost, but you never stayed down.”

Her father nodded. “Daniel told me you were stronger than I thought you were, and I see now that he was right. Mr. Stone beat you mercilessly, but you got back up every time. When I saw that determination in your face, I was convinced.” He put a hand on her trembling shoulder. “Not everyone can do what you just did, honey. It takes a special kind of fierce will to get back up, and you have that. You are special, Carmen.”

The floodgates started to crack. Carmen bit her lip, fighting to hold back tears as she looked up at her mother for her answer, expecting still a resounding no.

But, that wasn’t what she got. Her mother crouched into the hug, too. “Your father’s right, baby. I think we’ll go ahead and let you become what you were clearly meant to be.”

Carmen melted into her father’s arms, tears staining his shoulder. They were the only words she needed to hear, and the only words she never thought she’d hear.

Daniel was proud of Carmen, but the cryfest made him really uncomfortable. She and her parents hugged in a circle as she softly wept, leaving him and Mr. Stone as outsiders to stand there awkwardly.

“So…” he said, twiddling his thumbs. “Stone. Cool last name.”

“Thanks. It’s similarly genius that you used your last name, Chase, as your Fighter name.”

“You’ll be teaching us, right?”

“It would appear so, why?”

“Well…” Daniel gestured away with his hand, and he and Mr. Stone turned to face away from the others. “How long will our training take?”

Mr. Stone stroked his beard. “My master and I lived together for a year before I had mastered everything I needed to know about fighting, and every battle after that still taught me something new. So, I expect it to take about the same time.”

“When’s the next Ultimate Versus Tournament?”

“A little over six months. Why do you ask these—” Mr. Stone gasped. “Oh.”

“I can’t get home without the wish from the Wishstone-thingy. Do you think we could…I don’t know…speed up the process?”

“I…”

The movement behind them made it clear that the heart to heart — and their conversation — was over. Mr. Garcia cleared his throat. “So, Mr. Stone, how will this training work?”

“Are you allowing me to train your daughter?”

Mr. Garcia nodded, clearly hiding a proud tear. “It was a resounding yes,” Carmen said, wiping her eyes and adjusting her glasses.

He flashed a smile. “Great. My dojo is at the foot of a mountain outside the city. Before we make any formal agreements, I’d like to give you all a tour. Will that be fine?”

“Yes, I think that’ll be perfect.” Mr. Garcia patted the bar door. “I guess the Maroon Sports Bar is gonna have to close for today, eh, mi lagarto?”

“I guess so! Carmen, Daniel, go ahead and get ready. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

“Okay!”

Carmen almost sprinted into the bar, and Daniel followed a few paces behind. Once they were up the stairs, through the hallway, and back in her room, she burst with excitement.

“We did it, man!” she cheered, pulling him into a tight hug. “We’re getting trained, now!”

Her arms were tight around his ribs, suffocating, but Daniel couldn’t complain — he finally got a hug from Carmen Garcia one way or another. This was a different universe, but it was still a win in his book.

Ten seconds later, they were still hugging. Carmen pulled back quickly, a hint of a blush on her face.