As time ticked on, the crowd within the basement floor of McGilley's Muscle grew bigger and bigger, chattering on in anticipation for the upcoming entertainment to be had. Fathers were taking their sons around the arena, explaining what would happen and pointing to the posters hung everywhere the excited boys could see. Bets made and drinks in hand, the only thing left to do for these people was to see fist meet face in a bloody spectacle.

Ethan walked around the side of the raised platform, acting as the fighter's stage. It was a sturdily built thing, metal with stiff rubber padding atop it, but unlike the more televised examples of the sport, there was no cage. The familiar high-rise fencing was nowhere to be seen, so should one of the fighters be thrown over, nothing stopped them from rolling over the crowd. Which has made it uniquely attractive. To have a combat sport raise the stakes even more immediately drew attention from adrenaline junkies. What could be better than watching two expert combatants beat the life out of one another with a bit of added risk?

Just as Ethan descended that particular rabbit hole, all the lights lowered. All noise was instantly silenced as everyone focused solely on the stage. The announcer stood ramrod, gazing down at the audience with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Lowering down from the ceiling was an old-fashioned microphone that was the size of his entire hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to this week's event. Presenting-"

The man started by introducing each individual who would be warming up the crowd first, their pictures displayed on a large monitor on either side of the arena. These men and women looked as if they lived in the gym, having a wide variety of figures. Still, everyone radiated power like only a fighter could. The announcer went through the roster; the lightweights received a polite welcome. However, the crowd hadn't come for them, and the reception for the middle-weight combatants was just a little better. No, it wasn't until the heavy-weight roster for the day was announced that the audience completely exploded.

Only one had been scheduled that day, but it was the main draw. Garret "Skyfist" Ordinofsky was going to fight "Big Boy" Barry, 5 rounds of 5 brutal minutes for the audience's pleasure. When the match-up was announced, the avatars of the fighters on the two screens faced each other. They got into ready stances, their eyes deadlocked on one another. Ethan could hear a crowd of young boys squealing like school girls in meeting their idol.

Chuckling to himself, Ethan was preparing for the coming match. He hadn't been able to come to see any of the heavy-weight champion's matches as the last had been 3 weeks before he purchased his subscription. The only glimpses of the Gothamite warrior were in the couple of public training events that McGilley's used as an advertisement.

Going over to the concessions stand, Ethan purchased a large popcorn and Dr. Pepper. The third lightweight match was currently ongoing, nearly over with, as he went to sit down near the East side of the ring. Popping a clump of the buttery kernels into his mouth, Ethan couldn't keep the ironic chuckle from coming out. "Came to get a workout in, but instead am sitting and snacking."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

- Game Designer in DC -

"OH! And he's down. Darles is out for the count. We have our winner!"

The announcement caused a wave of cheers that shook the ground. Not from how great the fight went, as shown on the middle-weight fighter's strained smile, but knowing who was next. It was time for the Main Event.

A rolling snare drum drew attention to the South side locker room.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Standing at 6 foot 2 inches and 248 lbs, a walking tank of a man. Make a warm welcome to BIIIIG BARRY!"

A rocked-up version of the military cadence, C-130 Rolling Down the Strip, resounded the arena. The army airborne ranger PT song drew in the crowd, with each booming footstep ringing from the speakers as if a drill sergeant were calling everyone to the waterfront. Big Barry came out in step to the cadence adding his own weight to his unseen brothers and giving him their support. His green camo jacket bounced and billowed on his shoulders, making his already large frame even more imposing with the wide-brimmed hat that cast his face in shadows.

Reaching his next battlefield, Barry stopped and marched in place. The exact moment a whistle blew through the music, he came to attention. Somehow the giant soldier had smoothly shrugged off his jacket in a snapping salute. He stood there, fingertips knife-handing right at the edge of his brim, waiting.

"At ease, soldier!" A commanding voice roared from the speakers.

Grabbing his hat, Barry twirled it to his side. Members of the audience could only now see the glaring intensity held within those brown eyes. He did not even acknowledge the crowd coming to see him fight, only focusing on the entrance of his approaching enemy.

Suddenly a symphony of orchestral strings cut through the last semblances of the snares. The surge of the instruments grabbed at each person's heart in its wave, taking them along for the ride. Horns blared behind the soft melodies, contrasting heavily and oh so beautifully. It sounded like absolute chaos in the greatest senses.

A perfect reflection of its champion.

Eyes cold and calculating. Not a single flicker of emotion could be seen from within those dead eyes as the Skyfist casually strode forward. To all who bore witness, they could see the sound waves wrapping around Garret's body and clinging to him like specters from beyond the mortal plane.

Every sound ceased when he stepped on stage, reaching his destination. A testament to his journey.

The announcer and referee approached from either side of the two, sizing each other up, not once phased by the new arrivals. With a playful smirk, the announcer whirled around so he could see each individual who had come out for the night. Each match fought filled more seats and more eyes to behold the outcome of this glorious battle.

"I welcome you all to this wonderful evening." The man spoke out to the surrounding crowd. He gave additional information on the official guidelines when he saw how many kids had been brought. "Have both sides been notified of tonight's rules?"

Everyone knows that asking was a tradition purely meant for show. How could anyone get to the level of these two without knowing the UFC rulebook through and through? Regardless, it makes for a great dramatic pause for the cameras getting their close-up shots.

A nod was all either needed. The announcer had to catch himself, trying his hardest not to chuckle when a child in the front row was shaking from excitement at his father's side. It never grows old how pure children's reactions can be in such moments.

"Then, LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!"