Again, Coil sat in the dimly lit room with nothing but a stool for comfort. He watched the blank wall in front of him. It was painted a deep, dark purple. The paint was peeling in places, revealing plain grey concrete behind it.  The light overhead swung for some strange reason. It creaked as it wobbled from side to side, suspended on a thin length of rusty wire.

‘How did you win that last fight?’ asked the cruel voice.

‘My skin was too tough for my opponent,’ Coil replied.

‘Impossible,’ the voice stated, asserting the word as a fact and not just an exclamation.

‘That’s what happened,’ Coil said.

‘The day you stop lying to us is the day this will become much easier for all parties,’ said the voice.

FIGHT SIXTEEN –

A robot with two heads. Coil wasn’t sure if one head controlled the left limbs and the other controlled the right ones, or whether it was a kind of shared deal. Nevertheless, he wasn’t especially concerned about his chances. The robots, or maybe just robot, barrelled towards Coil with tragically misplaced confidence. With a mighty clang, they bounced off Coil’s rigid body like they had just hit a concrete wall. More than a little damaged, the duo rose to their feet and came in for another round. Coil held out his arm as they charged. With a nauseating crunch, the two-headed robot impaled itself, or maybe theirself, on Coil’s arm. He had learnt from experimentation that whatever power he possessed gave him no extra strength. Just resilience. The robots’ corpse slid off Coil’s arm and flopped to the floor.

Coil sat in the dimly lit room. He never remembered how he got there, nor could he identify the point where his loss of memory began. He was simply in the room. The overhead light flickered. The stool was uncomfortable. More so than last time.

‘Have you ever been outside the Psychobox?’ the cruel voice asked. The more Coil heard it, the less he was sure the voice was female. It was androgynous at best. Strangely accented and enunciated. Distant. Reserved. Intelligent. Calculating. Coil had a steadily growing desire to meet the owner of the voice.

‘Yes,’ he answered.

‘What did you see?’ asked the voice.

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Do you know what is outside the Box?’

‘No.’

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FIGHT FOURTY-THREE –

An insanely tall, impossibly skinny robot that moved like an insect. She scuttled about on four legs, her movements disturbingly smooth. Coil felt a shiver run down his spine, but it wasn’t long until the robot had torn herself to shreds trying to rip Coil apart. It had been a quick fight. The crowd was disappointed.

Coil sat in the dimly lit room. It smelt of ash.

‘We’re going to take something from you,’ said the voice. ‘You are not to struggle.’

Coil nodded. The door behind him opened and someone he couldn’t see stepped in. Coil didn’t turn around. The voice would be mad if he turned around. There was a gentle numbness at the nape of his neck, then searing, burning pain. It felt like his entire body had just short-circuited. His muscles locked up as his mind found itself flooded with pain alert after pain alert. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The door closed and locked.

‘We’ll need to take something from you again in the future,’ said the voice. Despite the biting harshness behind the words, Coil found the voice deeply comforting. Deeply affecting. Soothing, in a way. Despite himself, Coil smiled.

FIGHT ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR –

A strong robot with four arms. Coil closed his eyes and let it happen. The crowd had thinned greatly since the first dozen matches. Many had realized that every match ended the same. Coil would always exploit the enemy’s desire to rip him to scrap, or simply allow the enemy to destroy themselves on his invincible body. It was the latter in this case. When Coil opened his eyes, he saw a steaming, oil-leaking wreck of a robot at his feet. Fear had left him at this point, as had the aversion to killing. Coil didn’t have the same drive as Battery to complete the tournament and leave the Box. He didn’t know why he still pushed forward; why he was willing to kill for it. Answers? A purpose? Coil didn’t know. He was used to not knowing. That was his life. Could it just be a desire for change? To break himself free of whatever fate he had been drawn towards. What would have happened had he not executed Battery? Would he be here? Maybe, maybe not. Coil knew he shouldn’t think about what could’ve been.

‘Hey, uh… you gonna get out of the arena sometime maybe?’ asked the announcer. Coil blinked, returning to the present. He nodded and walked back into the preparation room. This was supposed to be the qualifiers for the true tournament. At the current rate he would be the only one to make it through.

Yet again, Coil was in the dimly lit room. The low hum of a distant air conditioner could be heard. Its cool air did not reach the room, however. Coil had to wallow in a stuffy, humid haze. He hoped the voice would begin to speak soon. It was really the only thing he felt strongly about anymore. The voice.

‘Why do you continue?’ a different voice asked.

‘What?’ Coil exclaimed, panic fluctuating in his tone. ‘Where’s my voice?’

‘You were growing too attached,’ said the new, cruel voice. ‘Answer the question.’

‘I refuse,’ said Coil. He would not comply until his sweet, old voice returned. It hadn’t ever been cruel, or mean, or malicious. His old voice loved him. Coil could just tell this new one was none of those things. Coil hated it. He was angry. Where was his voice?

FIGHT THREE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE –

Coil had not been to the room since the day the new voice had arrived. Perhaps it had sensed his complete aversion to answering to its malevolent tones. Good. It understood, then. As another gimmicky robot broke itself upon his being, Coil began to feel a strange sense of purpose. Find the owner of his original voice. He didn’t care about leaving the Box. That was Battery’s character. Now Coil had something. Something worth fighting for. The wall to the arena exploded outwards. The crowd screamed. Alarms sounded. Fuse and the tall one-eyed robot stood in the smouldering hole left by the bang.

‘Come on!’ Fuse cried. ‘We’re escaping!’

‘But the voice!’ Coil said.

‘Yes, we’ll find the voice!’ Fuse screamed. ‘Just hurry!’

Coil graciously complied.