“Wrong!” Coach shouted again. “You’re pushin’, not actually hittin’!”

“Who cares?!” Val yelled. “You gave me pow packs for that! Why does it matter if I push the bag instead of hitting? They’ll all feel it anyways!”

Coach hovered around her like some sort of space saucer, readying to abduct. His eyes narrowed at the mention of pow packs.

“What?” she said.

“Cyber-ups ain’t gonna cut it in the big leagues. Ya gotta get the basics down. The fundamentals!” He slapped at his wrists to make a point. “Don’t keep relying on your eyes—”

“I’m not—”

“And don’t keep relyin’ on the goddamn pow packs! They’re like batteries! They’ll run out eventually!” he remarked. “Ya know why I installed pow packs on you instead of some burly cyber-up limbs like the rest?”

“Wh—”

“It’s because they’re non-invasive! You’re still mostly left with your natural muscles. And ya know what the difference between cyber-ups and natural muscles are?”

She didn’t answer. This was probably another rhetorical question. She hated when Coach droned on about these things.

“Answer it!”

“U-uh… I don’t know! You tell me!”

“Muscles can still grow! ‘Netics cannot! Simple!”

“Yeah, that’s obvious. But cyber-ups are used more for a reason. They’re stronger—”

“And they need daily maintenance, weekly tweaks and tuning, and constant check-ups before each match to see if they’ll throw any errors! They’re unreliable at best. But your flesh? If that ain’t a miracle of life, I don’t got a clue what else it’s supposed to be.”

Coach pulled out the long sticks of doom—hand mitts that were held up by long, metal poles. But it wasn’t the sticks that Val feared. It was the fact that he’d always gotten into a feisty mood whenever he picked those things up—always ready to smack her across the face.

“Come on!” Coach motioned for her to move. “We still got ways to go.”

…

Coach’s training had paid off. A year of training and four more for professional fighting, and Val was already declared by the public as the next big thing in boxing. Her nickname was finalized as Valkyrie to symbolize her meteoric rise to fame—an instant skyrocketing of popularity. And the reasons were simple—

Throughout her professional career, she hadn’t lost even once. She hadn’t even gotten really punched yet. Only a few grazes here and there. Amongst the pros, she was keeping up well. A little too well for a supposed former amateur.

“Coach,” she called out. She was resting on a worn-down couch, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes were all droopy from her current predicament. “I’m bored.”

Coach shouted from behind the door in the workshop area of the gym, “Then train! I ain’t your babysitter!”

“Coach~” she called again.

“What!”

A thin smile stretched across her face. “I’m bored.”

A loud groan escaped through the cracks. The banging from the other side stopped, and Coach poked his head out from behind the workshop door. “What? You want me to make you a sandwich or somethin’? Get off your ass and train. Your bout with number two’s comin’ up!”

“Yeah, and he’ll lose like the rest. Not a big deal.”

“Ya gotta stop underestimatin’ your opponents, lass. Big ego.” He gestured widely with his arms. “Hope it’s not all talk.”

“It isn’t—”

“You get worried sick all the same. I know because I see it. Every time you step into the ring, you’re stiff as a board—”

“But I win anyways!”

“And that’s why you’re still an amateur. It’s in the mind, lass. It’s not in the win.”

“Pft, whatever.”

Coach moved back into the room; she could see him shaking his head a little before he was completely out of sight.

Sure, she was always a bit rusty when she entered the ring, but she’d make up for it in the long run. It wasn’t like she was getting hit much. She’d prove that she was fine once more during her match against One Round Craggy—the second best boxer in Cybernetic Boxing International.

She’d make mincemeat out of him, seasoned with her own hard-earned blood, sweat, and tears. Well, maybe not the blood.

…

Lights beamed across the ring. All she could hear were shouts and roars from the crowded stands above.

Five years ago, she wouldn’t have ever imagined this kind of scene unfolding in front of her eyes. Five years ago, she didn’t even care, but right now, she wanted more than anything to win. It was all or nothing; she had to show Beady the world. She had promised, and she was dead set on keeping it no matter what.

On the opposite corner, Craggy glared at her. He had spat insult after insult, hurdled scowl after scowl during the press conference. She didn’t understand where all that animosity was coming from; it didn’t seem like it was for show. But none of that mattered now. In fact, the animosity made her feel even more pumped up than usual.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Fight!” the announcer cried.

The boxing bell rang, triumphantly signaling the start of the first round. Immediately, the hulking mass lurched forward, stampeding towards her. A massive grin spread across his face, his eyes wide and maniacal.

One Round Craggy. Number two on the block. He had the ability to absorb damage like a sponge, and his punches would knock anyone out with a single blow. That was his gimmick that had gotten him this far. That was why he was named One Round Craggy. Because all he needed was one punch, the matches would usually end within the first round. He was a one-trick pony who utilized a unique specialty of his. Just like me…

Coach’s words then echoed through her mind like a well-timed reminder—“Don’t rely on your Razens! You’re more than that!”

He was right. She wasn’t some gimmick like Craggy. She had more to her than just cybernetics that someone else had created. She was Valkyrie. She was her own person with flaws, mistakes, and all those regrets. She wasn’t just another body like the rest.

Number two ain’t shit.

She charged towards her opponent. Craggy, seeing this, giddily swung his arm in the form of a right-handed hook. She rolled underneath the large mass, appearing behind the figure. He was slow; that was his weakness. With a right hook of her own, she armed a pow pack and slammed her fist into Craggy’s side, lining up perfectly with his liver.

A splitting sound crackled through the air; Val hopped back to the ropes and waited for Craggy to fall. Nobody should’ve been able to take such a hit without damage. Not even Craggy. But the massive figure turned to face her, the wide grin not having left his side. He bellowed out in laughter.

“Is that really all you got?!” he taunted. “I don’t feel a thing!”

What? How? That was a near perfect shot. No, it was literally perfect. Every single opponent she had fought so far had fallen when hit by her liver blows. The pow packs were potent. They were supposed to be her trump card. But it didn’t work?

Craggy continued to bellow out in laughter. “Aren’t you going to fight? You’re just going to stand there?”

She started to fidget nervously; the rope behind her felt rougher than usual. He’s bluffing. He’s clearly faking it.

“Here! I’ll show you how it’s done!” He charged again, and immediately, time slowed to a crawl.

Was it her Razens? She was sure of it. Maybe her Razens had activated instinctually like before. Maybe this was her chance to turn the tides…

But she couldn’t move.

Fuck, why?!

Her legs stood glued to the floor. At this rate, she was going to get hammered by the man’s intensely slow jab, cross combo.

Why can’t I move? Craggy was lumbering closer and closer. She started to lose hope. All that hard work to climb this far up the ladder. It was all going to go to waste. Her career was over; she wouldn’t be able to show anyone what her world could’ve looked like. Is it over? My dream…

“Lass, get a hold of yourself!”

Coach. Time sped up again. Her shoulders started to sway a little. Craggy was charging in like a truck, and within that split second before his fist reached her jaw, she slipped to the left and hopped back.

“Fuck!” Craggy screamed. “Fuck you!”

Val started to breathe again; her lungs burned. What happened? Her legs wobbled, ached at the thighs and knees. It had all happened in an instant. What happened to my Razens? Did it not activate?

“Don’t be scared, lass!” Coach yelled again. “Keep your arms up!”

Me? Scared? No, that couldn’t have been. How could she be scared of something so slow? Craggy was no threat. It was just his defenses. She’d been caught off guard because of how unfazed he seemed. She wasn’t scared at all.

“You’re scared?” Craggy howled hysterically. His laughs even seemed to silence the audience before him. “The mighty Valkyrie!”

Breathe. She calmed her nerves. You can do this. If she was already struggling with number two, how could she ever manage to defeat number one? She needed to end this quick; her career couldn’t end here.

It was all or nothing. She had to use her speed—whip into her opponent, not push her fists—just like what Coach had said before. And if one pow pack wasn’t enough…

How ‘bout I use the entire batch?

For that, she needed time. It took a second to load each one in, and she had access to a total of ten pow packs per limb. Since she’d already used one on her right arm, she decided to end the fight with her left—all ten packs armed inside her fist. But it was dangerous. Coach had told her it could potentially tear her ligaments apart if she missed, and yet, she was grinning from ear to ear at the thought of her new plan. Because how could she miss a target that big and slow?

“You gone crazy?” Craggy trudged forward, pulling back his arm for another hook. His form was terrible—completely amateurish. “Smiling in the face of death, huh?”

One. She loaded a pack while she sprinted towards the left. His arm swung and missed. She added a few weak shots to his body before putting distance. Two, three, four. Again, he came crashing towards her, but she slipped quickly back to the right and threw a few more punches. She didn’t even need her Razens to dodge. Five, six…

“Stop moving around!” the man shouted. His breathing heaved with every word; he was wasting so much energy. “Stop running!”

Seven, eight, nine… The man stumbled forth, but to no avail. He was slower than before. Much slower, much more tired. Ten. And thanks to how talkative he was, Val managed to finish charging up her left fist for that final blow.

Craggy jumped forward, rushing in like a blind rhino, but she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She easily slipped out of the way, and then, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel—a perfect opportunity to land a shot directly into Craggy’s solar plexus while he was hunched over from his own weight.

At this point, she could’ve easily won the fight slowly and steadily through the opponent’s sheer exhaustion alone. In the next round, she could even predict how he’d have fallen. But to her, that wasn’t the kind of win she wanted to show the world. She was gunning for the top, and for that to happen, she needed to show number one she was worth fighting.

She planted her legs and wound her arms back. Then, with speed even she thought wasn’t possible, she whipped her hips to the right. Her arm sliced through the air, swiveling past her torso in the form of a left uppercut. And her entire weight smashed straight into his chest, lifting the hulking figure a few inches off the canvas floor.

This time, Craggy reacted.

His eyes bugged out as he stood frozen beside the rope. The entire stadium went quiet. Then his legs crumbled before her; his body fell, and before his knees even touched the canvas, the bell rang, piercing through the roaring crowds of cheers.

It was over. It was finally over.

Coach jumped into the ring; Val could see the smile spreading across his face. The joy and happiness in the air—she could feel it too. She could feel it, but…

All she did was watch.

The crowds were jumping, the earth was vibrating in an almost triumphant glee. Her arms finally fell to her sides, legs trembling in the aftermath, tired and worn out. She deserved this—this win—all of this satisfaction that was supposed to have been flowing through her veins. But as everyone was cheering on her name, hollering and screaming a bunch of fan club nonsense, all she could think of was her promise.

Beady… She was one step closer to showing him what she had always dreamed of showing. She was one step closer to creating a world where she was finally at peace. But she wasn’t there. Not yet.

Not until she defeated the champ.