The crowd’s roar reverberated through the battleground as Greg stood between Tempo and the Executioner. His relaxed posture, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets, was a stark contrast to the menacing hybrid of flesh and machinery before him. The Executioner’s glowing red eyes narrowed as it assessed this new threat. Beneath their feet, the conduits pulsed brighter, their hum like a warning drumbeat.
“Greg,” Tempo wheezed, struggling to his feet. His side burned from the shallow wound left by the Executioner’s blade. “What... what are you doing here?”
Greg glanced over his shoulder, his smirk tinged with exasperation. “Saving you from your bad decisions, kid.”
The Executioner didn’t wait for pleasantries. It surged forward, its blade arm swinging in a deadly arc.
Greg sidestepped with uncanny precision, the blade slamming into the ground where he had been standing. The impact sent a tremor through the arena, scattering debris. Dust billowed around them, momentarily obscuring the crowd’s view.
“You’re big, I’ll give you that,” Greg muttered, his voice carrying a lazy drawl. “But size isn’t everything.”
The Executioner roared and pulled its blade free, pivoting with startling speed. Its other arm—a massive, metallic fist—came crashing down toward Greg.
Greg leaned back, the fist grazing the air inches from his chest. He twisted and delivered a sharp elbow strike to the Executioner’s knee joint. The metallic clang echoed through the arena as the hybrid staggered briefly.
“Tempo,” Greg called, his tone sharpening. “Get up. I’m not doing this alone.”
Tempo pushed himself upright, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. Blood dripped from his lip, and his breaths came in short gasps. Still, he forced himself to move. I can’t let him handle this alone.
----------------------------------------
Above the Arena...
The shadowy figure leaned against the railing, their silhouette illuminated by the conduits’ glow. A bemused smile played on their lips. “Fascinating. Even now, he holds back. What are you hiding, Sleeper?”
A subordinate approached, their voice low and deferential. “The conduits are nearing maximum capacity. Shall we initiate the transfer?”
The figure raised a hand, halting them. “Not yet. Let them struggle. Desperation enriches the energy.” Their gaze lingered on Greg. “Besides, I want to see just how much he’s been hiding.”
----------------------------------------
Back in the Arena...
Tempo darted forward, his second power reigniting with a painful jolt. The world slowed, every detail sharpening. He feinted left, drawing the Executioner’s attention, then spun right and landed a precise punch against a vulnerable panel near its spine. Sparks flew as the panel dented.
The Executioner whirled around, faster than before. Its glowing blade pulsed with energy drawn directly from the conduits beneath the floor. It swung with lethal precision, forcing Greg and Tempo to leap apart.
Stolen story; please report.
“Okay,” Greg muttered, dusting off his jacket. “It’s learning. I hate when they do that.”
Tempo’s gaze darted to the glowing lines beneath the arena. “Greg, the conduits... It’s feeding off them. We’re making it stronger!”
Greg’s smirk faded. He crouched, studying the floor with a critical eye. “Feeding it, huh? Then we need to cut off its dinner.”
Tempo hesitated, his breaths ragged. “How? We don’t even know how this place works!”
Greg straightened, his expression calm but his tone firm. “We figure it out.”
The Executioner didn’t wait. It surged forward, its glowing blade cutting through the air with frightening speed. Greg dodged to the right, Tempo to the left, but the hybrid’s glowing fist slammed into the ground between them, sending another shockwave rippling through the arena.
Tempo was thrown backward, landing hard on the floor. He groaned, his vision swimming as pain radiated through his body.
Greg stumbled but stayed upright, his focus unshaken. “Alright,” he muttered. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Greg lunged forward, landing a series of precise strikes against the Executioner’s joints and exposed panels. Each blow sent a ripple through its frame, but the hybrid adapted quickly, its blade arm swinging in wide arcs to force Greg back.
“Tempo!” Greg shouted, dodging another strike. “Go for the conduits! If we sever the connection, we might have a chance!”
Tempo gritted his teeth, dragging himself to his feet. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain. “Got it,” he said, determination hardening his voice.
He sprinted toward the nearest conduit, his second power flaring to life once more. The world blurred around him, the glowing lines beneath the arena his sole focus.
The conduits flared brighter as he approached, their hum rising to a deafening crescendo. Tempo raised his fist, aiming for the largest node he could see.
The Executioner turned, its blade raised to intercept him.
Greg intercepted the attack, grabbing the Executioner’s arm with both hands and planting his feet firmly on the ground. His muscles strained as he held the hybrid at bay.
“Tempo!” Greg bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Now!”
Tempo poured every ounce of strength into his punch. His fist collided with the conduit node, shattering it in a burst of sparks and energy.
The arena shook as the conduits dimmed, their hum fading into silence. The Executioner faltered, its glowing blade flickering before extinguishing entirely.
Greg released its arm, stepping back as the hybrid swayed unsteadily. With one final groan of grinding metal, the Executioner collapsed to the ground.
----------------------------------------
Aftermath in the Arena...
Tempo collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. “We... we did it.”
Greg walked over, placing a hand on Tempo’s shoulder. “Nice work, kid.”
Tempo managed a faint smile through his exhaustion. “Didn’t think you’d show up.”
Greg smirked, but his voice softened. “You’re part of the team, kid. Don’t forget that.”
----------------------------------------
Above the Arena...
The shadowy figure’s expression hardened. They straightened, their amusement replaced by cold calculation. “Prepare for extraction,” they said softly to their subordinate. “This game is far from over.”
With that, they turned and disappeared into the shadows.
----------------------------------------
To Be Continued
----------------------------------------