The frame circled her and closed the distance between them slowly. Its movements were measured. It watched her closely and adjusted its own motions accordingly. Whenever Penelope’s fists so much as twitched it would slow and reevaluate.

After a few excruciating moments, they were in reach of each other. Still, it waited. It seemed to prefer reacting to taking the initiative.

Fine then.

“They begin again!”

Penelope brought her right leg up and struck out with two quick kicks to its side. It blocked the blows and waited for the real strike that was coming. And come it did. Without dropping her right leg down, she instead pulled it in so that her knee sat near her chest. With the momentum of the first two kicks, she’d aligned her right side towards her opponent. Like a spring trap her right leg shot out. She only managed to clip it as it dodged to its right and in, replying to her kick with a punch.

As her foot met the ground, its fist connected with her jaw. Seeing the successful strike, it pushed its advantage and threw another strike at her face. A second successful strike. As her hands came up to block high, the frame dropped low and connected with her stomach.

The pain in her jaw was soon joined by that in her stomach but the frame didn’t relent. Measured punches came down like rain. It clearly saw that it had her. It continued to take the ground she was giving. Further and further, it pressed her without pause. It gained confidence with each blow it pushed past her half-committed defenses.

Warmth spread from the points of impact. No blood drawn yet but the frame wasn’t done. As Penelope focused on the feeling of its strikes it continued them. She blocked lazily and most of its attacks landed. Metal struck acrost her face or landed in her stomach. It hit hard. The strikes that landed low forced the breath out of her. The ones that landed about her head dizzied her.

Come on.

“It seems the frame has completely overwhelmed her!”

She continued to backpedal. Just slowly enough to ensure it could still strike her. It made sure to keep the distance between them small. It held the upper hand, and it wasn’t going to let her recuperate.

The blows kept coming. Right, right, left. Low, low, high. Even when she blocked, it drove its fists straight through to land another blow. She seemed so overwhelmed she couldn’t even get a strike of her own out. She just took each hit. Each lightning shock of pain.

It switched up its onslaught with a vicious kick to the side of her face. For a moment her vision was all metals and frame parts. Then it was the blue sand of the arena floor. The kick had sent her to her hands and knees. She noticed the blue sand had caught droplets of red falling from her mouth. The kick had busted her lip. She felt the warm rhythmic drip, drip, drip of her blood as it fell to the ground.

Come on!

“It just…!” the announcer seemed to hesitate.

He seemed unsure of whether to call everything off or not. The human made no motion to him… but was that through choice or inability?

The frame did not let up.

From above her a right cross connected with her mouth. Two robotic knuckles came away stained red. The iron taste of her own blood leeched onto her tongue. She could smell it over the sweat. Another blow came down, higher this time. It landed just above her cheek. Her vision flashed white. Another blow. Her ears were ringing. Another blow. Her body screamed at her. Another blow. Her nerves shot through her mind with thrumming pain. It refused to be ignored, downing out all other thoughts.

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It was bliss.

For one long spectacular moment, there was nothing else. Just the pain and the adrenaline and the ringing.

...

“Enough! The fight is over! I am declar-”

Penelope’s right hand shot up as her legs pushed her up from the ground. The uppercut landed squarely underneath the frame’s faceplate. To the things credit, it managed to stay upright if reeling and stumbling backward. It tried to respond quickly, to head off any momentum. It threw a forceful punch at her face, to target a weakened point. The blow never landed.

Penelope dodged only slightly as she brought her right hand up underneath the frames extending arm. She redirected its momentum while simultaneously bringing herself forward. Her right hand gripped the frame at the wrist as she brought her left elbow up and down through the frame’s own elbow joint. The crowd gasped at the resounding crack-pop of the shattering joint.

Penelope didn’t slow. Her left hand came up and under the frame’s now shattered right arm. Looped under the frames armpit her left hand came to rest on the back of its head. Pushing its head down with her left hand, she drove it into her rising right fist. Again and again, she drove her fist up into the frame’s faceplate. After the fourth pummeling strike she grabbed the back of its head with both hands and drove it down into a rising right knee. Her hands came away at the last moment, letting the kinetic force of the blow send the frame’s head whipping back up and forcing it to stumble backwards.

The frame was too discombobulated to notice Penelope take the same stance she had just seconds before. Turning so that her right side faced her opponent, her right leg came up, knee in, before lancing out and planting her foot center mass. The kick sent the frame flying back onto the ground against the arena wall.

It would find no reprieve. She was on top of it in seconds.

She held it with her weight as she drove her fists down into its face. Its right arm wouldn’t respond to commands. Its left was batted out of the way any time it found a way to bring it between them. It let out whirring and beeping, indicators of progressing damage that Penelope couldn’t hear. She was relentless, every ounce of energy was driven down into the frame. The sound of her punches changed from a smack to a crack to a crunch as its faceplate cracked then broke then shattered. Still, she didn’t let up. She painted the breaking insides of its head red with busted knuckles.

Finally, with scrap littering the ground around them, she stopped. Her heart pounded so loud she was certain the crowd could hear. She could feel it reverberating against her ribs, its pulse in her toes. Sweat dripped from every inch of her and her chest was heaving oxygen. She was flushed with heat.

Slowly though, her heart rate normalized. She cooled off and the adrenaline ran its course. After a moment she stood, picked the broken body of the frame up, threw it over her shoulder, and walked over to the arena exit. She climbed the small stairs a few at a time and made her way to the organizer and the two Ot roboticists.

“Nice.” Was all she said as she dropped the frame next to its creators.

The crowd was silent. The organizer was silent. Even the roboticists didn’t move for a long few moments. The crowd erupted in a fervor.

“Yes. Well thank you for the… data.”

“It’ll make a decent fighter.” She held a thumb to her mouth.

The blood had already begun to clot. The pain still sat with her, though. She wondered how she’d explain this to Deag. Maybe he’d just not ask? Not likely.

“It… as we said it isn’t-“

“Stop, you really don’t have to. I don’t care. That said, I do know you now… just saying.”

“Yes, well that was an… impressive… display.” The Tinsne showrunner seemed to choose his adjective with care.

His eyes lingered on the blood on her face and hands.

“That was exactly what I was looking for. I appreciate it.”

“Uh… you’re welcome? Are you going to be okay?” he motioned tentatively to her injuries.

“I’ll be fine. Surface level, nothing more. Few days and you wont even be able to tell.” She grinned with exhaustion.

“… Right.”

“Anyway. Thanks for the fight and all.” She started to turn.

“Yes… Wait! Your winnings!”

She turned back.

“Winnings?”

“Yes, the winning frames owners get a cut of the earnings. Given that you were your own fighter, you get your own winnings. Six frames in a row. Six wins. 20 credit per win plus a 100 credit bonus for winning six in a row. First time I’ve given out a bonus for six consecutive wins… don’t think that one will be topped for quite some time.” He handed a small chip to her.

She took it and turned to the exit. As she walked away, she held the chip up and called back to him without looking.

“I probably won’t be but if I’m ever back in the system, I’ll drop in! You guys know how to have fun.” She passed through the door and made her way back up to the main levels of the station.

She did not notice the pink and blue shell of another figure leave through that same exit just a few minutes before her.