Multi-storey carparks are a great way to save space, and tidy the streets of a vehicles. However underground ones provide an additional advantage; they’re shielded from the outside.

Of course there are those that CCTV or some form of recording equipment to ward off those with nefarious purposes. However these same cameras can be turned like most eyes, with a enough money.

Beneath the cobbled streets of York sat one such place. A place where cameras were turned off each night. A place that turned out quite a few of the city’s rich and elite. These individuals would watch, bet on, and derive pleasure from the underground fighting ring they had created.

The rules were simple:

• Only two competitors may enter the ring at once.

• The winner stays competing

• The winner earns 20% of the earnings off of the bets that predicted their win.

• A competitor loses when they back out, lose consciousness or die.

• Any powers are allowed as long as they do not endanger the crowd.

The latest champion was a man who embodied strength. Originally a construction worker who was laid off due to the monopolisation of construction companies in the mid to late 2010s. At which point he fell into a depression and hit the gym every day. Suddenly his muscles swelled. He was already strong but this made him look it.

Everything changed for him when he got his power. The ability to change any area of skin into steel at just a thought. From there his friend introduced him to the underground fighting scene. He went from city to city winning every fight. His husband worried for him but the money coming in was enough to curve both of their concerns.

This evening was like the others, he could be found in a cage match brutally beating his opponent. Using his fists of steel to crash down upon them. Each blow as ferocious as the last, not giving them chance to fall down or surrender.

As the poor twitching bag of bones was dragged off the champion gave a lap around the cage that protected the patrons of this sport. Even though he had won over two hundred fights in a row there would still be someone who would bet against him. The usual betters wouldn’t care, they would receive a small amount of profit and they’d get to see the brutalisation of the fool who dared to think they could beat these mass of a man.

After his lap was completed he saw a new shaped had entered the ring. The final challenger of the night. He was a South Asian man; brown skin, dark wavy hair that came down to his chin, a beard that barely came off of his face. He wore a loose fitting outfit: a white shirt and grey trousers. He did not strike that imposing of a figure as he was not particularly broad nor amazingly tall. He was about five foot and ten inches. He had to look up to see meet the champion’s eye level.

“Hey, new guy, take the top off! You’ll get it all bloody!” Shouted the champion’s benefactor.

The challenger ignored him.

The stare he was giving the champion was painful to receive. There was nothing in his eyes other than ambition; no doubts, no fear, no stray thoughts. Just this. Just now. Just victory.

“Let the match begin!”

The champion started with three powerful punches, each one infused with steel. They were dodged with relative each, even allowing him time to strike the both wrists as they flew passed him. Using his fists like hammers the champion smashed the concrete below him. He forced his prey to head backwards towards a corner of the cage.

He approached. The looming towering figure closed in on the corner. Yet the challenger was neither phased nor afraid.

Once there were no options for movement the steel behemoth used his deadliest move; coating his hands in steel and clasping his opponent in a clapping motion. He planned to crush whatever bones he could and then play with the broken and struggling remains.

He took a wide stance and unleashed it. The clap was powerful. As metal met metal a sound echoed out through the whole floor. It sounded like a construction site, as if two beams had fallen upon each other.

But that sound meant one of two things; either he had such a powerful clap that the ribcage of his opponent had turned into a fine red mist without any resistance or the more likely, and correct, option being that the attack had been completed avoided.

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Legs crossed, folding his lower half down the clap missed his head by millimetres. Jumping onto his hands, freeing his legs from their entanglement. With a simple kip-up he was back stood.

The champion was a bit slow, a luxury you are afforded when you are that strong. However not every engagement is decided by who can lift the most weight of punch the hardest in a single blow. A frightening concept the champion learnt about quite quickly as he could not even see the crescent kick that pressed his body into the cage.

It’s not like in the hundreds of matches the champion had experienced he had never been pushed like this. He was strong he wasn’t infallible. Nor had he not faced martial artists, they were a dime a dozen in the underground scene but usually they were sloppy. But he could already tell there was something different about the man in front of him. His drive was stronger, no different.

The metal grid had imprinted itself into the face of man made of steel. It had not broken the skin but the bruising and swelling were almost instant.

The challenger rushed to his opponent and in an attempt to put the man to the floor he wrapped his arms round him. Instinctively metal coated the band where the body was being held, as to ward off any crushing attempts.

However this was expected. Heat began to radiate off of the aggressor, heating the metal and making the behemoth uncomfortable.

The Goliath wriggled and managed to make enough distance to place his foot on the smaller fighter’s stomach. The bins was let go and a kick was sent out.

However the kick ended up hurting him more. As it placed his ankle in the perfect place to get crushed between an elbow and a knee, which not only cushioned the blow for the receiver it also injured the attacker.

However at least his Alteration was revealed. He can heat his body maybe even make fire. It was not a favourable match up for sure but based on the desperation of the previous attack it must surely not be all that strong of a power.

He looked weak, just one blow should knock him out.

The colossal man got himself up; it was time to end this.

His first punch did not land.

The opponent did a jumping back kick, sending him backwards and once again into the cage.

Age 17: The challenger achieved a black belt in Taekwondo.

The next attempt was a swipe, almost like a slap.

In one fluid motion that was dodged under and an uppercut landed straight into the chin of the champion.

Strong enough to raise him of the ground slightly. He landed on the ankle that had been injured, rolling it and leaving him to rely on one leg.

Age 21: The challenger achieved a black belt in karate.

The king of the ring needed to steady himself but he was already being pressed.

The challenger coated his hands in steel and clapped next to his opponent’s ear. The sound of the two beams hitting each other rang out once again in the ring. Startling most and disorientating the champion.

Thoughts rushed through his brain trying to process what had happened. He was being beaten. He copied the clap he did earlier. But how his power was heat, wasn’t it? Even if he could control two things steel and heat were a bit far apart to have.

Age 16: The challenger unlocked the Alteration he dubbed “Monkey See, Monkey Do”. As long as the user can understand how an ability or technique works and has witnessed it (need to see it multiple times for more complex techniques) then the technique can be copied even including the effects of the Alteration.

With the beast confused it was time to strike.

It was like a dance, it had choreography, it had rhythm, and most of all it did the job it needed to: win.

A tornado kick from the right foot. Ice trailing from it.

Body spinning into a jumping back kick with the left foot.

An axe kick from the right foot.

A crescent kick with the left to keep the momentum going.

Finally a jumping side kick to the chest. An explosion erupted out sending the man into the wall once more.

The metal buckled under the pressure and he broke out into the spectators.

Thud

The match was won. Eyelids that could not budge. Muscles that ached too much to move. A footprint embedded in flesh.

The new champion edited the ring to a cacophony of cheers and boos. Those who loved the spectacle. Those who lost money.

He shot a glare at the crowd. So much aggression and his immense strength could be felt just from a single look. It froze the crowd. As he collected his earnings and exited to the cobbled streets above.

After five minutes of walking he heard a voice form behind him. “Sam Patel, right?”

“So, you finally made a move? I wondered when you were going to stop following me. Do you want a fight?” he turned around to see a Caucasian man in his mid twenties, floppy brown hair and wearing a navy blue top and jeans.

“Not if I can avoid it. My name’s Jude Zairos, I’m a representative of the Mana-Script guild and we want you to join us.”

Sigh

“I don’t need a guild so stop pestering me.”

“What’s dream Sam?”

“Huh?”

“Mine is create the guild that reaches number one in the world. To do that I not only need to be strong, I need to surround myself with strength. And I’ve heard you’re all about strength.”

“I am going to be the strongest person whoever lived. I will beat down everyone.”

“Then join me. At the moment I can see the strongest people as ranked by the government and I don’t see your name on here.” Jude held up his phone.

“If you want me to join your stupid guild fight me.”

“Okay.” This took Sam aback, usually when said that most people who seemed as calm as Jude would simply back down. “However we should probably do it somewhere else. I’m quite fond of York and I don’t want to pay damages.”

He pulled out a small pouch and from that produced a small cerulean marble or bead. When it was thrown on the ground and shattered a small gateway opened up to an open field land. Jude walked through. “Come on. I’ll fight you.”

Sam was unsure.

This was a man he met tonight. Yet he trusted him. Not only was it from the kindness in Jude’s voice, but there was a memory long forgotten that compelled him to step through.

Against his better judgement he accepted the challenge and walked through the gateway.