Jay bounced on the balls of his feet. Hoping, begging, for his opponent to throw him a bone.

Nothing.

The pit in Jay’s stomach sank even deeper as reality kicked in. His whole plan revolved around the gorilla rushing in and leaving an opening to attack its back, the plan that he’d spent all week preparing around, the plan that was his only hope of defeating the gorilla.

The plan that was looking shittier by the second.

The newbie arena was completely disconnected from the outside world. Jay saw no indication that anything other than the gravel plain existed around him, but he could feel the jeers of the crowd staring at him. Shouting, yelling, screaming at him to just do something.

Shit, if he was watching he’d probably be screaming too.

Only the power of peer pressure and showmanship drove Jay forward. He made the first move of the fight, a cautious shuffle bringing him a half-step closer while using Eye of the storm at a low intensity.

Still no response.

Another step went unanswered as Jay silently cursed his lack of preparation. When he’d first watched the fights with Lyra, he’d thought about what would happen if the gorilla didn’t charge in. He’d thought about it, but he didn’t pay the thought any attention, brushing it off as overthinking.

If he lived through this fight, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and fight!

There was no point cursing his situation though. Jay was stuck whether he liked it or not, so he kept moving forward.

The gorilla shifted its weight slightly onto its rear.

Jay flipped the switch, increasing the intensity of Eye of the storm. He kept his current pace, not wanting to give away that he noticed the change.

Only the vital details reached his mind as his careful advance, while in reality unchanged, stretched out into eternity. The gorilla now had all its weight pressing down from its legs. Its knuckles only touched the ground in an attempt to hide its preparation from Jay.

It might have worked against most people. The gorilla’s position had only marginally changed from before. But it would never work against Jay. A lifetime of monitoring his opponents’ microadjustments in the ring, turbocharged by his accelerated mind, meant nothing could be hidden from Jay right now.

Not that the gorilla had any idea of this. All it saw was a puny sack of bones scooting right into its trap. Jay knew something was coming any time now. He pushed Eye of the storm to its limit. Even if he timed this perfectly, Jay had no idea if he was even fast enough to dodge his opponent. He couldn’t hold anything back.

The gorilla started to push on its legs, finally making its move. Jay continued his oblivious façade, waiting for its direction to be locked in.

Although he appeared to be moving as exactly as before, Jay kept subtly shifting his weight. Repositioning his body and cutting off avenues for his opponent to attack. Bolting doors shut before they’d even been opened.

After a mental Mexican standoff, the gorilla passed the point of no return. It had barely moved, but it had moved enough for Jay to know its destination. It was about to leap to Jay's right side, sending its right fist on a collision course for Jay's face.

At least it’s not lefty too.

Jay began to duck. The gorilla was already taller than Jay, and it was about to gain a ton of upwards momentum by leaping off the ground.

It’s aiming for my head.

Almost as soon as Jay ducked, his opponent changed courses too. The gorilla’s chest contorted, angling its shoulder to swipe down.

Damn this thing’s fast.

But Jay already knew that, it was already factored in his plan.

If he’d dodged left or right, the gorilla could shift its target with little more than a twist of the hips. That’s why he went low. With all its weight moving forwards and upwards, Jay's opponent would have to reverse all its momentum to land a meaningful hit while Jay was underneath.

But humans, much like their cousins the gorillas, were also prisoners to biomechanics. It didn’t matter whether his brain ran hundreds, or even thousands of times faster than usual. Jay could only move as fast as his muscles could drag him.

And next to a Goldenback gorilla, that wasn’t very fast at all.

Jay had expertly planted his feet in the ground, perfectly poised to transfer as much force as possible. But waiting for them to actually act was like watching paint dry.

Jay was a prisoner inside his own body as he watched the gorilla pirouette mid-air.

Its knuckles inched ever closer.

Finally, Jay's thighs answered. Digging into the gravel and pushing him away from the attack. This was where his plan told him to turn and take a swipe at the gorillas back.

Yeah… Not happening.

The gorilla had half turned around already. At Jay’s current speed, anything other than an immediate retreat would be suicidal.

By the time the Goldenback had fully turned, Jay had carved a big enough gap between them. He kept scrambling away. Jay heard his opponent give chase for a split second before stopping. At least he got something right in his prep. The difference wasn’t in their speed, but their acceleration.

Not that that helped him much. They were in a fight not a hundred metre sprint.

Jay spun around to see the gorilla hunched and unmoving once more. He relaxed Eye of the storm, giving his brain a chance to recover.

He took advantage of the lull in the fight, scavenging through the deepest recesses of his mind for anything he could do in this situation.

How am I supposed to touch this thing, let alone kill it? I know how fast it is. Fucking fast. But that doesn’t help me.

Do I attack its legs? That’ll get rid of its explosivity, but can I even land a hit? The fucker’s faster and stronger than me. It can probably outlast me too.

But shit, I can’t waste my energy on anything other than its back.

Jay had to stick to the plan. It wasn’t much, but it was the only advantage he had. All he needed was one hit, and that would make the opening for him. He had to go for the back.

Jay switched gears, running at his opponent. If the gorilla beat Jay’s acceleration, this would take that advantage away. Hard to accelerate much when you’re already at max speed. With each step, Jay increased the intensity of Eye of the storm, narrowing his focus on his opponent as he drew closer.

----------------------------------------

The gorilla seemed to be doing the exact same thing as before.

Does it know? What i-

Jay silenced his doubts before they paralysed him. There was no use debating What ifs, they would only be useful if he actually had a plan B.

Jay fixated on his opponent, trying to predict where it would move. The gorilla’s body told him nothing, there was no lean left or right, no tensing of its muscles, nothing. Jay wondered what Coach’s face would look like if he saw him right now, charging headfirst into a fucking gorilla.

He wondered what Coach’s face would look like if he knew this was the plan.

The gorilla’s hind legs began to curl up. Tensing with compressed energy, waiting for its next jump. Its front knuckles gently rested on the ground, exactly as before.

What happened next wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t even close.

Jay watched with grim realisation as his situation, which was already pretty hopeless, kept getting worse and worse.

The problem with thinking at the speed of lightning, is having an eternity in each second to realise how fucked you are. Jay was mid-step, suspended in air, unable to change his movement in any way when his opponent made its move.

The gorilla pressed against the ground. It rocked onto its heels and pushed. Backwards.

Propelled by four giant limbs, the gorilla accelerated back. Instantly matching Jay's speed. Jay was almost sprinting, there was no way he could change direction in time.

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But he had to try.

Jay planted his foot into the ground, desperately trying to shift his direction. Sand and stones skittered across the floor as it dug into the gravel. Jay's Achilles tendon almost snapped from the strain, momentum driving it forward while friction yanked it back.

Whatever the opposite of the goldilocks zone was, that’s where Jay was right now. Too far to touch his opponent, and not getting any closer, but just inside the reach of the gorilla’s sprawling ape arms. All the pressure Jay pushed on his ankle was worthless as he couldn’t change his trajectory fast enough to escape his opponent’s range.

A twitch in the gorilla’s shoulders alerted Jay to a strike about to come on his right. Not that there was much he could do about it.

A rapid assessment decided that the gorilla’s swipe was undodgeable before it had even started swinging. Jay started ducking and raised his right arm up to cover his face. If he wanted any chance of surviving this one, he’d needed to do everything he could to make sure his opponent didn’t make clean contact with his skull. Luckily for Jay, the Goldenback was still accelerating backwards. Locking most of its body out of adding power to the swing.

Jay allowed himself a sliver of hope.

Maybe the gorilla’s momentum would take away its power?

A glance at the cable-like muscle fibres in his opponent’s swinging arm dispelled Jay’s hope into mere prayers.

Maybe not.

Time ticked agonisingly by. The black arm of death crept closer. It pained Jay to look at his impending fate, but he forced himself to watch. Anything to ensure the strike was as glancing as possible.

Jay braced for impact. He clenched his teeth and tried not to bite off his tongue. He pressed his right forearm tightly against his head.

There was nothing more he could do now.

Anyone who’s been punched in the face knows the disconcerting sensation as their skull rushes to one side before their brain gets the memo. All the liquids encased in your head slosh about. Everything, from the world around you to your own two hands, becomes a bit more confusing.

Jay knew this feeling well. As much as it was his job to try not to get punched in the face, being a boxer and getting punched went hand in hand, surprisingly enough.

What he wasn’t used to however, was the inside of his skull slamming into his brain before he could even process being touched.

He’d done everything he could. Ducked enough so that only a tiny portion of the gorillas arm made contact, placed his arm perfectly to block it, loosened his neck to swing with the punch rather than meet it head on.

Confronted with the raw force of his opponent, it didn’t mean shit.

Up became down and left and right merged into nothingness as Jay reeled from the punch. He couldn’t tell if he was ragdolling through the air, careening away from his opponent, or if his brain was so fucked up that it just felt like it.

Eye of the storm, normally his respite against the chaos of battle, simply didn’t work anymore. What use was controlling the flow of information when none of the information made sense.

Of course, pain was the first feeling to return. But Jay welcomed the searing pain coming from every inch of his right arm.

It proved his arm still existed.

When his brain finished pinballing around his skull, more and more started to make sense. Jay reactivated Eye of the storm. Sand and sky separated as Jay could finally differentiate between the gravel pit of the newbie coliseum and everything else. He’d occasionally get glimpses of black and gold in his whirlwind of vision.

Jay wondered why his opponent kept appearing and disappearing. Then he realised that he was cartwheeling through the air away from the gorilla.

Jay made out an iridescent sheen in the air moments before his flailing body slammed into the invisible arena walls. No longer flying through the air, Jay's body slumped onto the ground.

Blood poured from Jay’s skull and into his eyes, clouding his vision red before pooling on the ground.

One hit.

One. Fucking. Hit.

Through the crimson veil Jay saw his opponent watching him. Gloating. Looking down on the puny human who thought he could challenge the natural order. It wasn’t even moving, it didn’t need to. Its prey was dead in the water, slumped into a puddle of pain.

No need to continue the chase. Jay was lying there waiting to be killed.

Jay twisted his neck, barely lifting it an inch off the gravel before fatigue slammed it back down into the ground.

The horizon wobbled before flatlining into familiar sky and sand. Only two figures broke up Jay’s view of the coliseum’s endless expanse.

Two?

Beside his opponent, although stood much closer, was a man wearing black and white stripes. It looked like he was speaking. It was no use. Jay couldn’t hear him. Jay didn’t know if his eardrums were clogged, burst, ruptured or whatever, but he couldn’t hear a thing. The man was counting on his fingers, with each one he raised it felt like he was begging Jay to get up.

Jay knew there was no referee here. He knew he was fighting in the coliseum. He knew it was just him and the Goldenback gorilla in the arena together.

But damn it felt real.

Damn it felt so fucking real.

But if the referee was counting, real or not, then it meant he wasn’t dead yet.

And if he wasn’t dead yet, it meant he could get up and fight.

The referee held six fingers up.

Jay dragged his legs and brought his knees underneath him.

Seven.

Jay's fists, one bloodied one broken, ground into the gravel as he pushed his chest off the ground.

Eight.

Fuck this fuck this fuck this.

Jay got up to his feet and slumped against the invisible wall, refusing to hit the ground again. He didn’t know why, whether it was pride, anger, or pure fighting spirit, but he knew he had to stay standing.

Nine.

The referee looked into Jay's eyes. He saw the pure determination behind them. He nodded. Continue the fight. Jay's hallucination faded, black and white stripes made way for black and gold fur.

Ten.

Jay raised his fists. The gorilla stared down at him. Jay stared back. Standing like a feral animal, wounded, cornered, hunched over. But standing. It wasn’t over yet. As long as Jay still breathed, he’d stand up and fight.

If the gorilla wanted Jay's life, it would have to come and take it from him.

Jay watched as the beast lumbered forward, slowly building speed. Jay thought about every second of the fight so far. Was there anything he could have done? Any way he could have avoided this fate? It felt like he was dealt a losing hand, and nothing he could have done would’ve changed the fights outcome.

The gorilla crept closer.

Jay thought back to his week at the coliseum. Was there anything he could have done? Maybe he should have accepted the Flaming Tomb Alliance’s offer. This whole fight would have been a lot easier if he could throw fireballs at his opponent from afar like Vega. What if he performed better in the storm sage’s trials? Could he have been taught a technique to move faster even than the gorilla, would that have evened the playing field? What if he hadn’t pushed too hard on his first day of training the thunder strike? Would an extra day of training have made a difference?

It was even closer now, mere moments away. Jay beat his chest with his one working fist. Once again not knowing the reasons for his actions. A primal urge taking over as he neared death.

Jay thought about his friends. He’d known them for less than a week, but they’d done so much for him. From giving him a place to stay, to training with him when they had their own life or death tournament to practice for. He thought about Akira. The kid looked so happy to see another soul who he shared a home with. So happy to hear about their old world and let Jay know about their new one. He thought about Lyra. Akira had a shared background to link him to Jay, she didn’t. The hope she’d shown in Jay, the belief that he could be something, was pure and unbiased. Somehow that meant more than as shared homeland. She’d even-

Jay's beating fist brushed against cold stone. The gorilla was almost upon him, but not there yet.

Fuck it, why not.

Jay grasped his necklace in his one working hand. But he wasn’t ready to give in yet. It was a hail Mary, but at this point anything else wouldn’t work.

When finishing off a severely wounded opponent, it can be easy to rush in with no thought to your enemy. You’ve already bested them, beaten them almost to the point of defeat. And it might be safe to assume that they had nothing left to damage you with.

But a good fighter always keeps the suspicion whispering, even if almost to the point of silence, in the back of their mind.

What if?

An animal has none of that, when it goes for the kill, all it thinks about is the kill.

Jay prepared to give his opponent a fatal lesson in humanity.

Although he may have been downed, battered, bruised, and bloodied.

Although his body had almost nothing left to give.

Until his consciousness was forcibly separated from his body. He wasn’t out.

Jay pushed Eye of the storm further than he’d ever tried before. The string tugging at his neck took an eternity to break as his hand yanked it off agonisingly slowly.

The Goldenback had just entered its range. It wound up an attack. An attack doomed to never land.

While he didn’t know how fast the necklace would explode, Jay knew it would be quick. When he tugged it off his neck, he used all the force he could muster to launch it behind his opponent.

The necklace barely cleared the gorilla’s shoulder blade before it detonated. A minor explosion that, even at such close range, didn’t do enough to kill the beast. But that wasn’t what Jay needed it to do.

He just needed its back.

The gorilla completely forgot about Jay. It contorted its body, desperately scrambling for its back. Momentum still carried it forward though. Sandwiched between an immovable wall and the closest thing he’d ever experienced to an unstoppable force, Jay’s ribs cracked under the pressure before he even felt them break. The jolting lance of excruciating pain slammed him out of Eye of the storm.

Jay keeled over and almost fell to the floor before catching himself. He couldn’t fall down now. This was his one chance.

The gorilla had forgotten about the fight, all it cared about now was getting whatever just touched its back, and making sure it was dead.

Jay pressed the cold, denatured steel of the Conquerors fists into his cheekbones. Falling into the peek-a-boo stance half out of familiarity, half to force his head upright.

The Goldenback wasn’t attacking him anymore, but that didn’t mean it was an easy target. It tossed and turned, prone on the ground. All four of its burly limbs flailed, desperately scratching at its back.

But this was Jay’s only shot.

Jay stood a few metres away from the thrashing gorilla, fists raised, blades outstretched. It still didn’t see him. Its limbs began to slow down.

NOW!

Spikes of agony speared through Jay's head. He pushed through his concussion to reactivate Eye of the storm one final time. Every ounce of his focus trained in on the gorilla, hunting for the split-split-second opening when it stopped rolling about but still wasn’t thinking.

When it arrived, Jay didn’t hesitate.

He stepped in, discarding all boxing technique as he raised both Conquerors fists into the air before driving them downwards.

The two steel blades buried themselves into the gorilla’s meaty neck. They didn’t go far, only sinking a couple inches deep into the tough, sinewy muscle fibres.

But that wasn’t the end.

Vega said his time spent studying thunder essence was wasted. That it didn’t fit him.

At the time he agreed with her.

But now he didn’t regret a single second.

All Jay’s will focused on compression. Stored force, a caged beast snapping at its bars. Longing to be unleashed. Jay forced all his strength into one single point.

Then he compressed it further.

Then he compressed it further.

Then he compressed it further.

Then he set it free.

Through his steel trench daggers.

From inside his opponent.

The shockwave tore the gorilla’s chest to shreds, flinging stringy muscle fibres onto Jay's face and into his mouth as it indiscriminately ripped apart the gorilla. Jay lost all footing as the wave pushed him into the air before he fell onto his back. A rumble in his stomach gave Jay a warning, but rolling onto his chest was all he could do before he violently threw up on the gravel.

Jay took one look at the desecrated corpse of his opponent. Its legs still resembled those of a gorilla. Its torso still looked like an animal. Sort of. Jay could make out torn muscles, broken bones, and blood spurting into a crimson pool on the ground.

As for the gorilla’s head and shoulders, they were nowhere to be seen.

At least in full.

Unidentifiable gobbets of flesh dotted the gravel pit around Jay. A bloody mist coated his arms, chest, and face in red. The horror of both seeing and feeling the viscera around him forced another round of vomit through Jay's throat.

It was the last thing he remembered before he collapsed onto the ground unconscious.