“Ready…? Fight!”

Immediately, Long Arms threw a right punch towards Valkyrie’s legs. If it hit, it would’ve been an illegal move. But right before the punch landed, his arm stretched and curved upwards into a perfect right uppercut. His bright, red glove came shooting towards her chin.

She quickly jumped back; the glove grazed her chin, shooting towards the ceiling at breakneck speed.

What the fuck?

She’d seen videos, but this? This was way faster than the videos. Relax. She couldn’t be intimidated already. Focus on the projection; predict the trajectory. She needed to see everything.

Long Arms retracted his missed shot, but this time, he dashed forward, readying a left hook. She could tell from the movements in his mechanical ligaments.

She pivoted left and threw a left hook towards his liver, but he quickly blocked the blow with his other arm. She then pivoted to the left again and threw a right cross. Long Arms extended his neck back, and her punch whiffed the air where his head had just been.

Then he laughed maniacally.

What the fuck? He can do that too? She tightened her fists, preparing to defend whatever onslaught he was going to throw. Her only option was a counter when he was least expecting it. Otherwise, he’d just dodge everything.

“Calm down, lass!” The familiar voice echoed through the stadium. “Stop tightening up and follow his flow!”

I know, Coach. But she had to focus. Relax… Don't think. Just punch. Let your body dance. Her eyes honed in on Long Arms’s shoulders. The joints swiveled like viscous fluid, moving back and forth like soft, ocean waves.

But how was she supposed to fight this? He was like a slippery fish. There was no human aspect for her to grasp onto. His legs could stretch, his arms could stretch, even his neck could stretch.

Long Arms, sensing her distraction, whipped another punch towards her left. She slipped away, but the arm turned ninety degrees midair and sped towards her again. She quickly pulled back, but it twisted, following her every step.

Does his punches not need momentum? The fist was coming faster than when he’d first thrown it.

She quickly rolled to the right, avoiding the shot that swung overhead. Then, seeing an opening, she immediately dashed in, spending two pow packs in each leg. She moved at speeds incomparable from before. The look on Long Arms’s face told her everything.

This was her chance.

If there was one thing she was sure about, it was that his torso seemed to be the least flexible. So using that vulnerability, she used all of her momentum to throw a tight, right-handed hook to his exposed abdomen. Perfectly inline with his solar plexus.

It cut through the air with extreme speed; pressurized gas released from the back of her elbows as she expended another pow pack. It was going to hit. And it was going to hurt. She was sure of it. But a second passed, and she didn’t feel an impact…

What? She pivoted around. I missed? How could she have missed? But before she could wrap her head around the thought, a bright, red object came barreling into her view. It got larger and larger, accelerating faster and faster—

Her body didn’t move. No, it couldn’t move. It was coming too quickly. It looked so slow, but her body wasn’t moving fast enough.

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Move!

She tightened her thighs; her toes were about to cramp. Instinct kicked in as she quickly charged pow packs for each limb. Using all her strength, she sprung to the left as hard as she could. Two pow packs exploded out from her legs. She was going to make it. But with her enhanced eyes, she saw it before the pain even registered. His glove was still headed straight for her liver.

She immediately contorted her body as best she could. Two more pow packs were expended—air released from her elbows as leverage. It wasn’t enough to dodge the entire blow, but that was fine. A stomach shot was better than a powerful blow to the liver.

Then the trajectory of the punch changed. Again. And it blasted upwards. Past her stomach, past her chest, rushing towards her eyes…

Fuck.

…

Voices… She could hear voices in the distance…

“Three…”

It sounded so murky. Like she was underwater. There was a ringing in her ears that didn’t seem to go away.

“Five…”

Counting? Her instincts kicked in. She had to get up. She had to push through! Stop… counting!

“Seven…”

Move! She willed her body to move. Her vision started to clear. She could see the ref, but something felt different. No, it didn’t matter. Get up!

“Eight…”

She wobbled to her feet, stood up and cracked her neck. Her head spun like a merry-go-round, but she grabbed the rope and kept herself steady. She was fine. She was perfectly fine.

“Are you good?” the ref yelled through the crowd. His voice sounded so far away. Like she was still dreaming. “Can you fight?”

She nodded. Everything looked a little cloudier than before, but none of that mattered. She had to win no matter what. She had to win for Beady.

“Raise your hands.”

Her hands trembled, but she still managed to pull them up. There was static in the air; her throat felt dry as a desert. Her eyes twitched just enough that she had trouble focusing on the target in front. Long Arms was there across from her, but she could barely make out his lanky features. His hands dragging along the floor was the only sign that gave him away.

The ref moved back. Then he signaled for the match to resume. And as she was inching closer towards the center, a bell sounded the end of the first round. Long Arms sneered before walking back to his corner.

“Val! Come here quick!”

Coach. She hustled back to her corner and sat down. She was completely out of breath and her legs were shaking uncontrollably.

“Are you fine, lass?” He took out her mouthguard and squeezed her some water, but she immediately pushed it away.

“What…” She still couldn’t understand. “What happened?”

“You missed.” Coach stared down, his voice soft as a feather. “You just missed…”

“H…” She was running out of breath. Her lungs burned with each word. “How?”

“He—Val, lass…”

Don’t say it. She could feel it coming. The next words he was going to say, she could tell by the voice alone. Please, don’t say it.

“Do you wanna stop here?”

“Fucking… knew it.” She hated him. She hated him so much. “I knew you’d fucking say that.”

“Val—”

“You’re my coach!” Anger burned through her veins, eyes watered at the thought of losing. She felt like an absolute mess. She didn’t know what to feel anymore. “You’re supposed to… supposed to cheer me up!”

“I know, but your legs, lass…”

She already knew. Her legs were still shaking; her head kept spinning around like crazy. She didn’t even know if she could stand up again.

“…and your eye too.”

Val knew that too. She’d been trying to ignore it this whole time. Her left eye was dark. She couldn’t even see a glimmer of light seeping through, and yet…

“We have to stop—”

“No.” That was out of the question. “I can keep going.”

“Your body’s wrecked, lass! You can’t even see the gears turn anymore.”

“I can see fine with my right!”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next round. She wasn’t having any of it. She was fine. She was battle-ready. And as she pushed off her seat with new resolve, the world around her spun upside-down.

“Fuck…” She fell to her knees.

Coach was mouthing something, but she couldn’t hear a thing. The crowd behind him were dancing off their seats like a field of grass, arms swaying from side to side. And they were multiplying. Some had four hands, two lips; the seats had doubled. The scoreboard showed twenty-two instead of two until—

Darkness swallowed her whole.