“That’s not good….”
For a brief moment, Meifang felt the urge to leave the locker room and rush out to the arena to stop the fight between the boys. Hell, she was surprised the officials hadn’t called for the match’s end after that last nasty attack from Cain. But her mind quelled the urge, and she remained seated.
It was clear to her that Tyger wasn’t fully cognizant. He was a Frame whose Body Slot had usurped control, and he was now running on instinct. He’d either tire himself out within the next few moments, or he’d knock Cain out first. Either way, there was no need to interfere; the fight would be over soon.
The edge of her lips curved up. It had certainly been an entertaining match thus far; much more impressive than she had been expecting when entering the tournament, and it’d been fought by two dumb kids.
Cain’s technical skill was undeniable; he was a well-trained fighter with a good head on his shoulders, but Tyger was actually the one who captured her interest. Sure, his movements were sloppy as all hell, and the kid didn’t seem to understand what the word “defense” meant, but he was fun to watch. There was an animal in him, much like herself in her younger years before time and discipline had beaten it out of her.
Watching the fight had made her look forward to her own upcoming match, which was more interest than she had ever expected to feel.
“Nice work, boys,” she said to herself. “Though I wish you would’ve saved some for your fight with me. We could’ve had some fun.”
* * * *
ULTRA PULSE
* * * *
Cain’s mind was racing at mach speed, in direct contrast to his body, static from muscle to bone — he couldn’t even move his eyes or blink them shut.
He was trying to process what had happened; how he had managed to become paralyzed. He hadn’t seen or heard Tyger use an Install for it. He knew for a fact that Tyger had no other Install than the Metal one, and that didn’t have the ability to lock an opponent in place, especially not when set into the Body Slot.
Had it not been Tyger’s doing whatsoever? Had his own body just….failed him? Had he become that exhausted?
No, that couldn’t have been it. He’d gotten the upper hand in the fight. Tyger hadn’t struck him with anything that could have shocked him like this. He wasn’t that injured or tired, and he’d been fine a mere moment ago.
The paralysis had come when Tyger roared; when he’d let loose that inhuman howl. Somehow, that had frozen Cain’s body in place, leaving him a sitting duck to be devoured.
Perhaps it was a part of Tyger’s Beasterizer heritage? He’d of course been born with the tiger symbol….perhaps that roar had been a manifestation of the symbol’s abilities?
He felt confident that that must have been the answer. Or certain, rather. It was impossible to be “confident” in anything in his current situation. He couldn’t move a muscle, and a deranged Tyger was rushing right for him.
And then, he felt the control of his body slowly begin to return — the paralysis was beginning to wear off.
His heart started to race, and he was finally able to blink away the water that had formed when his lids could not close. He could move again, but just barely.
But he didn’t know what to do.
The physical paralysis had faded, but the mental one had not. He was still scared — terrified, even. He was staring defeat, and possibly even death in the face. Tyger was charging, his roaring face a bloody vortex with only the whites of his eyes and fangs poking through.
He couldn’t think of a plan, and even if he could, he still didn’t have full control of his body back, and likely wouldn’t be able to enact that plan.
It was a strange state he found himself in. Cain was never scared. He was never anxious, and never unsure of himself, doubly so when it came to the art of combat.
Instinct moved his hand to his face in an attempt to activate an Install. Which one? There was no answer. It was simply what he felt compelled to do; Installs were tide turners, and he desperately needed to fight off the incoming typhoon.
But only one hand was capable of movement. The other remained dormant at his side, only able to twitch its fingers amidst the paralysis. Without both hands, he wouldn’t be able to form the triangle sign above his forehead and set the Install.
If he was physically able to scream, he would have.
Tyger let out a roar even more monstrous than the first.
FIRE!
The Fire Install activated. Having been set into the Mind Slot, the red flames immediately exploded around Cain’s mind, burning up all of the distractions, the confusion, the questions, and, most importantly, the fear, reducing them to naught but ash.
Cain’s confidence and composure returned in the split second before Tyger’s wild punch could land. It was not the most forgiving window of time to act, but because the mental flames had burned away all doubt and confusion, he knew exactly what he needed to do, and he carried that action out with zero hesitation.
His limp hand shot up, no longer enslaved to the paralysis borne from fear. The arm angled itself vertically, and intercepted the path Tyger’s own swing had chosen. The collision was painful — brutally painful. From the grimace on Cain’s face, bones had surely been broken.
But the block had withstood Tyger’s monstrous punch for just long enough for Cain’s other hand to land its own precision palm strike. And then it was Tyger who remained frozen in place, head curled backward from the impact.
A few seconds later, he collapsed onto his back.
* * * *
ULTRA PULSE
* * * *
“And he’s down for the count! Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this brutal bout has been declared! Give it up for Cain!”
The moment of silence that had followed the final strike drowned in the sea of raucous applause. Half of the crowd in attendance scrambled to their feet in support of the entertainment they had been granted, hollering out to both boys as they were escorted to the locker room.
Reina was also getting to her feet, but not for the same reason as her neighbors. She needed to go check on the boys.
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“Hey, Reina, where you goin’?” she heard someone call out to her.
“Yeah, you better pay up girl! Your boy lost!”
She forced herself to join in the round of laughter that followed. “Uh, I gotta go see if they’re okay….I’ll pay when I get back!”
Finding Tyger was easy; he was in the locker room getting the blood washed from his face by one of the arena staff members. He’d just regained consciousness, though his eyes were locked onto the floor, unattentive.
“Tyger! Are you okay?” She plopped down onto the bench beside him.
He didn’t give an answer. He just….kept staring at the floor.
She dropped her head against his arm and wrapped her hands around it too. “Aw, don’t be sad, Tyger….You did awesome! You were so close to winning!”
When the attendant finished up, he bowed his head and walked off, though not before reminding Reina that this was the men’s locker room.
“I’ll just camo myself if any other boys come in!” she said with a peppy giggle, mostly as a way to try and get Tyger out of his funk. “Just don’t snitch on me, okay?”
But nothing could pull that off; at least not right now. Failure cuts deep, and scars easily, especially when you feel you deserve to bleed out.
Reina gently shook his arm again, then pointed over to the monitor. “Look! That lady with the buff thighs you were checking out yesterday is gonna fight! She kicked butt in the first round!”
* * * *
ULTRA PULSE
* * * *
The match was over before it had a chance to properly begin. Meifang moved like an animated race car with the inner keyframes removed — that is to say, really fucking fast.
The first attack she launched was a wide, arcing jump kick from down low. Her opponent didn’t even have time to begin taking a defensive stance before her leg smashed into the skull.
“Good heavens! Meifang kicks things off with a bang! Is the fight already over?!”
Not quite, but there was no changing the outcome at this point. She pressed off of the ground once more, skating across the stadium like a jet. This time, her opponent held steady and brought both arms up to block the next kick, suffering broken bones in the process.
Using the momentum from the first strike, Meifang twirled up into a twisting frontflip, soaring high above her opponent’s body. She brought her other leg down this time, slamming the heel directly onto the top of her opponent’s head.
A crater opened in the floor, and waves of dust and concrete scattered like shrapnel.
When the dust cleared, Meifang stood tall, hand on her hip, smiling triumphantly. Her opponent was nowhere to be seen, but the massive hole in the floor provided all the direction that was needed.
“Well there you have it, folks! In record time, Meifang snatches her victory and her ticket to the semifinals!”
* * * *
ULTRA PULSE
* * * *
“How much for a rejuvenation?”
“Here are the packages we have available,” the receptionist responded. She then gave Cain a polite smile. “Are you participating in the tournament at the arena, by any chance?”
His first instinct was to snap at her for asking, as the leaking cuts on his face and the bloodstains on his clothes should have made the answer obvious, but he was too exhausted to even bother. “Yes.”
“We’re actually offering a 20% discount for participants in the tournament.”
Nodding, he tapped his finger against the sheet of paper she had handed to him. “Great….This one’s fine….”
Thankfully, he was called to the backroom almost immediately; perhaps that was another benefit of fighting in the Crossroads of Combat tournament.
The rejuvenator he’d been assigned to was a middle-aged man, though judging by his flawless skin, most folks would assume he was still a teenager. That was an almost universal trait in those who had managed to develop the Rejuvenate Install.
“You’re looking quite banged up,” the rejuvenator said with the most textbook professional chuckle one could ever manage. “Tough loss?”
Again, Cain wanted to bite back, and again he withheld. “I won, actually….”
“Could’ve fooled me!”
That stung, surprisingly. But he was right. While Cain had won the match on paper, he certainly didn’t feel victorious. In one part, it was because of how close the match had been — it was almost a repeat of their previous bout, and that was unacceptable. Tyger hadn’t worked, trained, studied, and grown since then, but Cain had. He’d dedicated his life to it. He should have obliterated that moron, not barely scraped by.
But what bothered him even more than that was how he had won the match. He wasn’t 100% positive, but would be once he returned to the arena and received a copy of a recording of the match to confirm it.
REJUVENATE!
“Just so you know,” the rejuvenator said, snapping Cain back to reality. “I can only heal your body; the damage to your Slots and ULTRA Force is going to be your responsibility.”
Cain simply nodded, already knowing how the procedure worked. The Rejuvenate Install was a godsend for fighters, as it could alleviate physical injuries far more quickly than any other medical practice, and with no errors either. He’d made use of rejuvenator services several times throughout his fighting career, whenever he could afford it, of course.
Soft blue light washed over the rejuvenator’s palms just before he pressed them against Cain’s chest. The light then washed over Cain’s body, like ripples in a pond. Blood faded away, cuts sealed themselves up, stings of pain vanished, and the broken bones in his arm realigned back into place.
The Rejuvenate Install was incredibly rare, and highly sought after, allowing those in possession of it to make disgusting amounts of bank. Cain had had to empty the remainder of his own funds on it, including some of his savings, even when choosing the cheapest plan and receiving the tournament discount.
“You have about an hour,” the rejuvenator said, pushing himself back up to his feet. The plan Cain had selected allowed the rejuvenation procedure to only last for an hour. Afterwards, his wounds would return. “Feel free to stop by again if you’d like additional treatment.”
Cain scowled as he left. He’d have to win the tournament to afford another session, and he’d have to spend half the pot to purchase the permanent rejuvenation package.
When Cain returned to the arena, he approached the security counter, retrieving a copy of the match recording as he’d requested before leaving for the rejuvenation clinic. He wanted to verify the reason he had won the match. In his heart, he knew what the answer was, but some small, foolish part of him was hoping against it.
He sat down on the nearest bench, holding the device — the forcerecord — in his hands. It was a small screen not unlike that of a phone, but it operated quite differently. As he moved the screen up to his eyes, hidden machinery in the device jumped out and wrapped around his head.
A flash of green light washed over his field of vision for a moment, and then it faded out.
He was once again standing in the center of the arena. The crowd was hot, the tension in the atmosphere was thick. To his left was Tyger, eyes full of fire and anger. To his right was….himself, calm and composed.
Cain held his hand up and made a swiping motion. The scene fast forwarded, every action replaying at double, triple, quadruple time.
He pressed his palm forward, and the fast-forwarding stopped. He was now in the midst of the final moments of the fight. The recording of himself was paralyzed in fear, and Tyger was charging in.
He took a brief moment to glance at Tyger.
Even now, the look on his face was intimidating, contorted into a wild rage. He’d seen Tyger anger before during this Radecross trip, as well as two years ago at the ULTRA RUMBLE, but nothing approaching this level.
He looked back over to himself, and allowed the recording to continue.
Tyger closed the distance, fist held at the ready. The recorded version of Cain began to move, but only slightly. One arm lifted up, positioning its hand above the forehead. The thumb and first two fingers extended out, forming one half of the triangle motion required to set an Install into the Mind Slot.
Cain kept his eyes on his opposite hand. It had been paralyzed, unable to break free and mirror its counterpart. That was the case in the recording as well as it continued forward in slow motion.
And then, just before Tyger was within punching distance….
A faint, shadowy black hand appeared over Cain’s head. It was like an ink painting made with light strokes of the brush. In a mere fraction of a second it came into existence, drawn in the space adjacent to Cain’s other hand, fingers mimicking the half-triangle shape.
Cain gritted his teeth. The instant the Fire Install activated, the inky black hand vanished, its presence impossible to detect if one were not actively searching for it.
The recording was also erased in a flash as Cain ripped the forcerecord from his face. He nearly snapped the device in his hand, but cooled himself as he returned to the security desk and handed it back.
He left the arena completely, retreating into an alleyway on the side of the building. There, he could be alone.
Sort of.
“How dare you interfere….” Cain growled. “I didn’t need your help….That was a one-on-one duel, but you….you tainted the match….”
After a few seconds of silence, he slammed his fist against the brick wall.
“I don’t need your help to beat Tyger! Or anyone!”