The timer ticked to zero and Jay returned to the room with the two arches. The storm sage loomed over Jay, frowning. Behind him sat a luxurious four poster bed, buried in quilts with a mountain of pillows at the head. How did that get here? Jay silently flicked his eyes between the sage and the bed.

“What? Did you think I’d make you sleep on the floor? I’m not that cruel!” said the sage. He pointed at the bed “Get in, and don’t even think about getting out until I tell you.”

Jay sprang to his feet. His body felt better than it had any right to be after twenty-four hours of electrocution, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tired.

During the final stage of the trial, Jay was almost grateful for the stabbing pain each electrocution bought. It kept him awake. The constant pangs of agony stopped Jay from succumbing to sleep while he grasped for more insights into both electricity and his own body.

Jay nodded at the sage and walked over to the bed. Within seconds of sitting on the bed, his body crumpled into the endless linens.

After the storm sage zapped himself out of the cave, Jay stretched out on the bed with only silence keeping him company. He’d expected to fall asleep instantly, but his body wouldn’t let him. Jay’s legs constantly twitched beneath the covers, the pulsating energy within them refusing to stay still. His stomach twisted and turned, although it didn’t make Jay nauseous.

As Jay closed his eyes and began to drift away, the relentless churning within his body lulled him to sleep.

As he faded further away from consciousness, he felt the tireless pulse of his metabolism working within. Each cell absorbing every last spark of electricity, not content to simply study or learn, but determined to reforge themselves. Determined to become electricity.

Jay clung onto these insights for as long as he could, but he was only human. When the numbing veil of sleep wrapped over him, he let the fragments of electricity slip into his subconscious.

While Jay’s mind finally rested, his body relentlessly laboured on.

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

“Time for the next trial Jay. Wake up.”

Jay shot awake, the storm sage’s voice injecting him with focus. It felt like just a second ago, he was reeling from day one. Was it already day three?

“The trial by fighting is simpler than the last trial. It’s a gauntlet, you keep fighting until you defeat your opponent. If you lose, you fight them again. The trial will last until you defeat every opponent; unless you quit before the time is up.” A smirk broke through the storm sage’s face. “But I don’t think you needed to know that.”

“Who will I be fighting?”

“Whoever the coliseum throws at you.”

Huh?

Jay thought the sage completely controlled the trials, but maybe they were another boon granted by the coliseum. It would make sense to help the island’s mentors like this. But making sense wasn’t particularly important on Eterna.

Jay refocused on the next trial. It wouldn’t be easy without his hands, but he didn’t really have a choice.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Jay got out of bed and followed the sage to the second arch. The shadows faded and Jay stepped through.

Jay entered into another cave that stretched out into darkness in front of him. This one far rougher and natural looking than the spotless cube from the first trial. A circular gravel pit, identical to the one in the newbie arena, was the only sign he was still in the trial and not abandoned underwater.

Inside the ring stood a man wearing nothing but blue shorts and blue gloves.

Is that…

It was.

Richard Boogieman Burns stood in the ring facing Jay. The very person who’d sent him to the coliseum in the first place.

The Second Chance Coliseum was ruthless. Jay couldn’t think of a better word to describe an organisation that dragged people from the brink of death and enslaved them into fights to the death every week. But at least it had an eye for drama.

If this was his first opponent, at least the trial would start out fun.

Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.

Fight your past.

Jay understood this trial a hell of a lot more than the last one. Despite all the potential intricacies, a fight was simply a fight. Jay didn’t have to ponder on its true nature, or shift his perception of the world, he just had to fight.

“Fight first. Ask questions later.”

Jay thought back to one of Coach’s old phrases. A phrase he rarely listened to, but one that felt appropriate right now.

The trial had created a magnificent illusion. Boogieman Burns couldn’t really be here, he was still back on Earth, but the imitation standing in front of Jay looked as intimidating as ever. Dense arms, packed to the brim with muscle, propped up the two 10oz fists that guarded an arrogant sneer. Jay watched his former opponent for a moment before glancing down at his bandaged, broken arms.

He’d have to fight Burns much differently this time, but that didn’t mean it’d be hard.

Jay confidently stepped into the gravel ring. An iridescent ripple shimmered through the invisible perimeter wall as a blue screen counted him in.

3

Jay met Burns’ stare with a confident rebuttal. The boxer in front of him might just be a projection, but Jay was going to enjoy destroying him nonetheless.

2

Jay bounced on the balls of his feet, moving side to side as he found his tempo.

1

Eye of the storm flooded through Jay. Apart from his cordoned off arms, every inch of his body was within his grasp, each cell beckoned Jay’s call.

Previously, Eye of the storm fought against Jay’s natural limits. Reining his nervous system from the tethers of the subconscious. But now both the reins and tethers lay severed beneath him. Jay’s stormforged body existed in perfect harmony with his mind. Eye of the storm now merely bridged the gap, quieting the noise of the world, slowing it down so that Jay’s body and mind could communicate seamlessly in the heat of battle.

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The broken shards of his shattered mental barrier crashed into the ground by Jay's feet. He ground his teeth against each other, lips twisted into an excited grin.

Fight.

Burns advanced. To Jay, it looked like he was wading through molasses.

Jay didn’t wait for his opponent to crawl over. He circled clockwise. It took three full steps before Burns’ pupils locked onto Jay's new position. Jay took another step forward, just in time to see the muscle fibres in his opponent’s thigh twitch. He’d just begun to turn.

In his last fight, Jay was a prisoner in his own body. He knew everything he needed to do to evade the gorilla, but he was powerless to do it. What use was an elevated mind when its body lagged behind.

Now it had caught up.

Watching the electricity carve paths of carnage had immensely improved Jay’s bodily awareness. It was the reason Eye of the storm no longer strained his nerves, and now felt as natural as lacing up a pair of gloves. But Jay had extracted far more from his first trial.

Every fragment of Jay's body vibrated with almost uncontrollable energy. He felt himself buzz from within as the uncontainable urge to run, to jump, to fight screamed inside every cell. It wasn’t just speed coursing through his body, but power. The pure, indescribable, power present within each and every fragment of electricity that darted through existence.

Jay stood just outside punching range. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t punching anymore.

He raised his left leg and slammed it into Burns’ kneecap. Jay's kick was terrible. There wasn’t a single shred of technique contained within it. But what was technique in the face of overwhelming power? The crunch of shattered bones and squeal of tendons tearing apart filled Jay's ears with the unsatisfying buzz of scuppered revenge as his opponent toppled to the ground.

The illusion wasn’t perfect. Burns’ face sneered impassively as his head smacked the ground. That face. That stupid fucking face had taken everything from him. He couldn’t even make it wince in pain.

Jay barely glanced at the crippled body beneath him. He lifted his leg in the air and slammed it down on his opponent’s skull.

Jay barely felt any resistance before his foot hit the gravel.

Victory. 1/4.

A new ring appeared next to the first. Jay stepped out of his current battlefield and walked around his next. Inside the circle was another human, one Jay didn’t recognise. He wore nothing but black and gold mid-length shorts and MMA gloves.

So this is what fight your past meant.

Jay didn’t see the point of fighting against the earthlings. His speed, strength, and current fighting ability was so far beyond them that it wouldn’t even be a contest, even without his arms.

He entered the ring. The man in front of him expressed none of Burns’ bravado. His scar-kissed eyebrows and cauliflowered ears told Jay of a history of violence. He squinted at Jay, like a predator focusing on its prey.

Sorry buddy, it’s not gonna work out like that.

The fighter inched forward. Jay casually walked towards his opponent. Even if he could use his arms, he still wouldn’t have his guard up. The fighter threw a punch. Jay didn’t dodge. He already knew he was out of range. The punch was just a feint however, and the fighters head ducked as he attempted to tackle Jay to the ground.

This would probably have worked two weeks ago, and Jay still didn’t know what he’d do if someone strong enough took him down. But that didn’t matter here. Once more, Jay was reminded of the futility of preparation, practice and technique in the face of superior power. This could have been a flawless takedown, executed to perfection, and it still wouldn’t mean shit. Jay raised his knee with superhuman speed and drove it through his opponent’s jaw. The man instantly slumped to the floor, momentum shoving his limp body into Jay's legs.

Victory. 2/4.

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Jay moved onto the next ring. On one hand, he hoped the next fight would at least be a little more exciting. But he also knew this was only the start of the trial. There was going to be harder fights to come, so maybe he should cherish the easy ones while they still existed.

The third ring had appeared by now. The fighter inside it stared directly at Jay through cold steel eyes.

Neatly parted hair flopped gently as the boxer skipped forward and back. Muscular arms, although smaller than usual for a heavyweight, wielded denatured steel knuckles in a low guard.

From the red tape wrapped around his wrists, and the two working arms, Jay guessed his next opponent was an imitation of himself from just before the gorilla fight. The rippling red folds of the storm sage’s tracksuit flapped as Past Jay began shadow boxing

Jay made a loop of the third ring, encircling his past self. Watching the replay of his debut in Q’s office had felt strange, especially when the “camera” had entered his own eyes. But seeing the three-dimensional reflection of himself felt surreal.

Having to fight it only made it stranger.

Well… I didn’t see this coming.

He probably should’ve. The coliseum had thrown Jay nothing but surprises since arriving, there was never a straightforward solution to anything here.

A healthy Jay was easily stronger than his past self. He knew everything his old self knew, and his new body could run rings around his old one.

But regardless of the things he’d learned, the skills he’d gained, and the steps he’d taken towards Harmony. Some things hadn’t changed.

Jay was a boxer. He still needed his hands.

After the first two fights, Jay's confidence had begun to blur into cockiness. His hastily built bravado trembled as he stepped into the ring with his past self. But there was no running from this fight, not if he wanted to get stronger.

Jay’s arms hung limply by his sides as he watched Past Jay raise his fists.

If only.

The countdown slowly ticked towards zero until not even the blue screen separated both Jays.

Electric blue rushed through the whites of Past Jay's eyes. Pooling in his irises, lighting them up and painting an azure trail of light as his head bobbed and weaved. Jay matched his opponent, activating his own Eye of the storm.

The evolved form of the technique didn’t punish his body like it had before. Jay was confident he could keep it running longer, and at a higher intensity than his previous self.

Provided with the same weapons, present Jay would certainly have won the chess match of feints and misdirection; his mind and body were simply faster than they were before. That still didn’t solve Jay's one glaring problem.

With no arms, he couldn’t punch.

Both fighters stopped, millimetres outside of their range, and Jay's problem was illuminated in brutal clarity. Jay could read his past self’s punches from a mile away; he just couldn’t do much about them.

Even if Jay knew a punch was coming, he still had to dodge it. With his two bandaged arms dangling beside him, Jay couldn’t parry, he couldn’t counter, he couldn’t even block. All he could do was dodge and pray.

If he had his arms, this wouldn’t have been an issue. Arms were agile, quick, and could move in almost any direction. They were versatile in defence and the threat they carried stifled most attacks before they even begun. There was a reason every single martial art ever to exist utilised your arms. Legs, elbows, headbutts and knees were all great, but they weren’t essential. Arms were.

Unfortunately, since they weren’t at Jay's disposal right now, he was forced to struggle without them. His past self took full use of that advantage. Forcing Jay back behind a series of strategic jabs.

Give me a fucking break.

Jay's pleads were even more useless than his arms. Past Jay kept jabbing and feinting, forcing Jay to twist and slip punches while constantly backpedalling. Eventually, he couldn’t retreat anymore. Jay's back foot knocked into the lip at the edge of the ring. Fuck. Past Jay’s face remained impassive as he closed all angles his future self might possibly escape from.

Jay watched as his opponent’s left drew closer. He waited until the very last moment, the point of no return, to slip outside. Physical speed was Jay’s main advantage over his old self. Jay had to time every dodge perfectly just to stay in the fight.

The trailing blade of the Conquerors fists brushed past Jay's face. It sliced into his cheekbone, drawing the faintest trickle of blood. Jay kept circling right, desperate to get his back off the wall.

A shove to his lagging left shoulder scuppered his escape. Jay couldn’t feel the fist pushing his arm back, but he could sense his momentum shift as his torso twisted. Even his stormforged body couldn’t completely shrug off the blow.

The jab was aimed at Jay's face before, but Past Jay must’ve known he’d dodge outside. It was his only option. The push forced Jay to face his opponent, destroying any attempt of fleeing.

The left hand that had just shoved Jay twisted towards his face. The red fist unfurling as Past Jay held it over Jay’s eyes, blocking his vision.

Jay leaned back, determined to catch a glimpse behind the shielding hand.

He spotted the glint of steel as a right straight crept towards him. He could only lean back further and hope the barrier wall wouldn’t block him before he left the steel knuckles’ range.

It didn’t. The steel knuckles came up just short. Centimetres from his face.

But Past Jay wasn’t going for a punch.

The extended blade of the conqueror’s fists sliced into Jay's neck as the swinging fist flew by his head.

Jay was helpless to watch as blood spurted out of his neck.

His vision blurred as he dropped to the floor.

For the second time in just over a week, Jay watched his life slip away as a boxer stood over him. He didn’t think there could ever be a more painful sight than the one of Boogieman Burns’ victorious sneer as he tumbled towards the canvas.

Seeing his own face hurt far far more.