At a small bar in New Castor, two men were chatting over a few drinks and snacks, despite beating each other to a pulp the other day, they saw each other as friends.
One was a youthful looking jackal, with a full ashtray and a few empty mugs of beer in front of him. His jacket, both comfortable and fashionable, had the words SECOND CHANCE BIOTICS on the back; it wasn’t just that he was sponsored by the group, but it was also an incredibly comfy jacket. It was also free with the sponsorship and a man can’t say no to a free jacket. Plus, working for one of the biggest biotics group in all of Qest had the benefit of having early access to any of the inventions they cooked up.
Fighter
Raver “Madman Roaming Free” Aleks
The other was an enormous elk, dressed in a muscle shirt and jeans, who opted to have a fruity cocktail, as well as a plate of fried okra; he didn’t care if any macho men insulted him for his preference in drinks, if he wanted to drink a few Screwdrivers, they tasted good and got him drunk. His musculature was impressive, even by his specie’s standards. He horns too, even when the points were carved down to a smooth point, where still dangerous weapons in a fight, stronger than any club, gun, or blade, a fact he was quite proud of.
Fighter
Cutter “Last Bullet Train” McTonny
For the record: Cutter won the fight. Although he now had his normally enormous horns cut short due to them being damaged in the fight, as well as several bruises along his chest and arms; it was fine, they grow back. “So…” Cutter said, taking a sip of his cocktail, speaking with a jovial friendliness to Raver, “Have you got the info on our newcomers?” Cutter had already found out that Phi, the CEO of Second Chance, was the game master of the upcoming tournament, the man who would over see the event and run things. With direct contact with Phi, Raver would be one of the first people to learn about any new fighters.
“Yeah, I got them, but don’t tell anyone.” He said, then looked to the bartender. “Including you, drink maker.”
The bartender, a young looking mare, nodded, going back to making another screwdriver for Cutter.
“I’ve only glanced at them so far, but from the looks of things, we got a lot of babies joining this year,” Raver said, putting a bunch of papers down on the counter, pushing aside his empty mugs and ashtray.
Cutter leaned over them, hands on the counter, the wood groaning under his weight, seemingly not aware of his size and strength. “Babies?”
“A lot of 20 somethings!” Raver continued, putting his finger on a paper depicting the binturong, Eli, “Like this dude, just 18 and already in Primal. If the selection process was a few months ago, he’d have to wait another two years.”
“Yeah, that is the bottom line for joining.” Cutter nodded, looking at the paper, sitting back down with a thump. “You have to be a monstrous prodigy in order to get in at that age or know the right people. Think I heard of a guy a few years back who joined at the age of 16, but that’s just a rumor.” He looked over some more.
Skell, age 20.
Pocketknife, age 23
Opal, age 25
As a matter of fact, the oldest of them was this bull, Guillermo, who was 44 years old.
“I see what you mean, a lot of wartime babies. Hell, in 8 years or more, we’ll be having fighters who weren’t even around for the war.” He looked at Pocketknife’s profile, the main thing catching his eye being the name, “What type of name is Pocketknife? That’s doesn’t seem to be an alias.” He scratched his head. “Actually… Now that I look at him, he does look a bit familiar.” Did he see him on TV somewhere before?
“Don’t know, but it looks like we may be in for an easy few wins,” Raver gave a smug grin. “But maybe we should wait and see. I’ve been surprised before.” He began to gather the papers up, before hearing the door to the bar open.
“Hush you two,” A third person said, a black bear, walking in. He was of average height, but very rotund, fat enough that if he was any larger, he’d be spherical. Although beneath this fat was a layer of muscle, he as strong and athletic as any of his fellow fighters.
Fighter
Wes “Speed & Weight” Porter
“Besides, weren’t both of your 22 when you joined Primal?” He raised a brow at the two. “Got no right to judge these guys by their age.”
Sure, that was true. Raver and Cutter both went way back. They were born the same year, same month, and joined Primal the same year. That was 10 years ago. So the two were thick and thin. Wes, meanwhile, was their superior by 2 years. If there was someone who the two of them could trust the judgment of, it was him. Besides, he was just as much a friend to the two of them as they were to each other.
“So what brought you here, dude?” Cutter asked, munching on his plate of okra. “You heard about the newcomers?”
“Yep, I have my sources,” He nodded, a proud smile on his face, picking up the stack of papers from Raver.
“Seriously? Where are you getting it? I had to ask Phi for these!”
Wes didn’t even give him an answer, continuing on as he looked at the bios. “That Rosemary girl sounds especially promising. Nice to have more women in Primal.” His smile disappeared, thinking about one fighter in particular. “But that Pilotte guy… Got scared just reading about what that man has done. They’re still calculating his body count before he joined.” He then looked at Eli’s profile, flipping through the papers to his bio. “Also… Came to tell you both, this lad right here is having a fight tonight, just a short drive away from here. You two up to watch?”
“You’re kidding?” Cutter said, standing up with a smile, his tiny tail wagging.
“Against who?” Raver asked, not quite as excited. If it was someone they knew, just maybe they’d go watch, Fighters always got front row seats to any fight.
“Well, you’re probably gonna be happy to hear, it’s Darnell.” Wes said, lifting his sunglasses, an excited look on his face.
“Old Darnell!” Cutter pumped his arm. “Hell yes! Love that guy!” Love wasn’t an exaggeration; they use to date each other. A relationship that has since ended, but ended on good terms. “He was the best man at my sister’s wedding too!”
Raver stood up, putting a large amount of money down on the table, double that of what his tab was. “Well what are we doing jerking off around here?” He said, pointing to the door. “Let’s scout out the new blood.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“It’s his first fight,” Wes said, “Always good to see someone lose their Primal Virginity, as you always says, Raver.”
With a nod, the three warriors of Primal headed out, ready to witness the bloodshed.
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Location: Avery DeLancie Baseball Stadium, New Castor
Time: 11pm
The stadium had been closed down and cut off to the public, all for the sake of this fight. This was the type of power that those in Primal had. The lights shined on the empty field. Drones hovered around the area, equipped with cameras for close ups. Despite the public being barred from entry, the stands weren’t empty. As a matter of fact, they were quite populated, sparse crowds here and there. Investors, business owners, wealthy elites, and any one who happened to be connected to Primal in someway. Looks like it was a popular night. After all, this was one of the fighter’s first official fights, the one known as Eli. Food and drink was also being provided for them. Mostly snack food; even to the rich and wealthy, popcorn was a well loved snack at public events.
The dugouts, normally reserved for baseball teams, was being used by Eli. Along with him was Ethan, and one of the Redliners, the monitor lizard Oleg, whom Ethan had met just the other day. The lizard leaned against the wall, looking across the field, to the opposite dugout where Darnell was. “Fight will begin at 11:30.” He said, straight to the point. Not turning his head, his eyes turned to look at Eli. “Well then. No pulling out now. Just remember: This is your first fight and therefore your most important.”
“Really?” Eli said, happy as can be.
“Of course, this fight will tell everyone if we made the correct decision in bringing you into our ranks. It’ll tell investors and viewers if you’re worth their attention. I’ve been in the business for 20 years now. I’ve seen far too many people enter Primal and back out on the first fight because it was too much for them.” He took out a water bottle and took a long drink from it. “Do not disappoint me.”
“Yes sir!” Eli said, bouncing up in down, getting his blood flowing. The cold air did nothing to stop his burning spirit.
Ethan meanwhile was trembling on the dugout bench, a bag of sunflower seeds in his hands. As the now official handler for Eli, the situation was his responsibility, no matter what happened. Once Eli and Darnell faced each other, it would be completely out of his hands, but he would still be held accountable for the results. Deep breaths, Ethan, deep breathes. Quietly, Oleg went over to him and handed him a water bottle. “Thank you…”
“No big deal.” Oleg said, now watching Eli, who was shadow boxing in the corner. Ducking and weaving, kicking and punching, swiping with his tail, fighting a pretend opponent; he could’ve sworn that he even saw him pretend to get hit. Guess a true fighter takes into account any result of a fight. “So you went with Callow for his last name?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said, having given the boy his last name on his official profile in Primal’s computers. “He’s not part of my biological family or on our ledgers, but I got lazy and just gave him my last name… Since it was required.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t screw things up at family meetings…” Oleg said, as he crushed his water bottle in his hand, with a satisfying plastic crunch.
Ethan nodded, frowning at the mention of family.
“Ah… Sorry,” Oleg said, recalling the conversation had in the limo the other day. He was quick to change the subject, back to looking at Eli. “Lost Boy… An interesting title. All too fitting though.”
Ethan just nodded, only half paying attention to the conversation. Things would be starting soon and the only thing that was on his mind was: Where the hell is Brook?
The answer was somewhere in the stadium halls. No one knew who she was or who she worked for, all that was known was that she was a friend of both fighters. She had to use the restroom and was now on her way back to the stands, humming a song to herself, her heart racing with excitement.
But, before she made it back, she saw a trio of men approaching, going down the same hall as her.
The trio from the bar had arrived. Cutter, Raver, and Wes, not that Brook recognized them. In particular, Brook was focused on Cutter. He was more muscular than Darnell, who was already plenty muscular. Taller too, his antlers almost scrapping the ceiling.
“The good old baseball stadium, always good to be here.” Cutter laughed, sipping a beer that he bought on the way there. “Hey, Wes? Isn’t this where you fought Rakkan? I forgot how that fight went, remind me!”
“Oh shut up, you know how it went,” Wes said, bumping him, his weight alone enough to nearly knock Cutter off balance, despite the incredible difference in their heights. “I tried to defeat the Undefeated, I lost.”
“You made him bleed though, that counts for something.” Raver said
Soon, the three stopped in front of Brook, the three of them staring down at the hyena.
“By the Twins,” Brook said, looking at Cutter’s chest, his shirt barely containing his massive pectorals that were bigger than Brook’s own breasts, mumbling to herself, completely lost in thought. “I could shred cheese on there.” She wasn’t aroused, well, maybe a little bit. What excited her most of all, wasn’t their looks or anything related to sex. No, rather it was the thought of potentially seeing them in a fight; just looking at them, she felt she could calculate there skills and specialties, even their BMI. The dozens of martial arts DVDs and video recordings permanently altering how she saw martial artists and professional fighters. “I could probably take all three of them.” She didn’t mean in a fight, of course… Again, she wasn’t turned on or anything by them. It was then, that she snapped to attention, “Ah! Sorry! Hello! I’m Brook!”
“Ah… Hey there.” Wes said, more confused and concerned for the possibly lost and most likely touch starved girl. “Are you’re with any of the fighters.”
“Uh, I think I am…” She said, still slightly lost in thought.
“Hold on,” Cutter said, stopping the other two from walking off and leaving Brook to her own devices. “I think Darnell mentioned a hyena girl a few times when we’ve hung out. As a matter of fact, think he’s mentioned her being obsessed with fighting.” he knelt down to be at her level, immediately friendly and not even commenting on the statement earlier, “Why don’t you come with us! We’re Darnell’s friends and coworkers!”
“By that he means we fight under Primal as well.” Raver said, already walking to the stands, not waiting on whatever the strong girl had to say. “It’s starting soon, I’ll save you guys a seat.”
“There are a lot of empty seats.” Wes said, waiting a bit, before walking off, leaving Brook and Cutter behind. “But yes, don’t want to miss a beat on this.” He waved to Brook, “But yes, come on, if you’re friends with Darnell, you’re friends with us.”
“Uh huh…” Brook nodded, sweating. So many powerful fighters surrounding her. All three of these guys were an experienced and skilled fighter; she was doing exactly what she planned on and loving every second of it. She wouldn’t want to miss out on the chance to hang out with them.
“What the bear said,” Cutter said, beginning to walk off.
Brook stood there for a bit, walleyed. Her brain metaphorically short circuited. “Right…” She had to let her brain and body sync up with each other yet again. Many people would love to meet rock stars and movie stars, this was the equivalency for her. “Oh!” She screamed, turning around and following after the three. “Coming!”
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Back in the arena, the two fighters exited their respective dug outs, and walked towards each other. The crowd cheered, as things were finally in motion. Their lust for violence was finally going to be satisfied after all this waiting and popcorn munching.
Eli dressed in his now signature outfit, a pair of black and gold shorts, with his name now written on the right leg. Some personal branding, as per Brook’s recommendation. No shirt, as he stated he fought better without one.
Darnell dressed in a mostly similar outfit, a pair of red and white shorts, and a black tanktop, no branding or writing on it. Just plain and simple, how he always liked it.
Both fighters wore boxing tape and no shoes. The cold wet grass squished beneath their feet. Incredibly soothing, one last tiny comfort before the fight began.
“Alright, here we go,” Ethan said, mumbling, watching from the dug out, knowing this fight could dictate both of their futures. “Whatever happens happens. No turning back now… But please win, Eli. No shame in losing, but it’d be great if you won.”
“Hey, Ethan? What types of cybernetics does that boy have?” Oleg asked, rubbing his chin, still there next to Ethan. “He’s quite well built for his age, there is no way that body was achieved through pure training.”
“Cybernetics…?” Ethan said, his eyes going wide.
“Yes, most fighters in Primal… Actually the vast majority of them, have some cybernetics or biological enhancement. You could say every fight in Primal is a cybernetics arms race or investment show. Corporations showing off what they’ve installed on these monsters.”
Ethan remained silent. He thought this was just a normal fight. Maybe a few cybernetics here and there, maybe someone with artificial eyes or a mechanical arm. He didn’t realize that the main focus of all this was cybernetics… He didn’t say anything to Oleg’s question. But his expression was somehow even more nervous.
“…Well, your silence is worrying.” He laughed, shaking his head. Oh this was going to be a fun fight to watch, no matter what happens. “Well, all I can say, is be thankful that this isn’t to the death.” Oleg walked out of the dugout and headed for the two fighters going between them, his long tail scrapping through the grass. This was his favorite part of the job! The main role of a Redliner: The world’s strongest referees.
Eli and Darnell stared down each other, Eli with his typical child-like grin, Darnell looking solemn and composed, an expression that neither Brook nor Ethan had seen him with before. The various drones around the stadium were getting plenty of good closeups on both of them.
“Alright! I want a good fight! Remember, I said good, not clean.” Oleg said, speaking into a microphone, his choice booming through the arena. “Anything is allowed! Kicks to the nuts, gouging out the eyes, biting, lethal blows, it’s all allowed! Anything is allowed as long as you aren’t raping your opponent! Got that?!” He began to take a few steps back, he arms crossed.
Darnell and Eli shook hands, locking eyes, a basic display of friendliness before they would tear into each other.
“You’re not going to do any of that, are you?” Darnell smiled.
“Of course not… I mean, I will if you do.” Eli said.
Their hands left each other. They stood there, arms to their sides. The screaming crowd went silent.
Then…
“GO!” Oleg screamed, as Darnell and Eli rushed each other.
Fight
Eli “Lost Boy” Callow
vs
Darnell “Arcade Action Man” Johnston