(BGM: Lose Yourself by Eminem)
The arena was silent. I guess it was always like that, but this time the silence has a crushing weight to it, as if exerting a physical pressure.
It was silent as Pete and I made our way into the ring. I'm more prepared than ever. Sure, the fights before were brutal, but they pale in comparison to this one. Over the last six months, I've fought with Peter. Every. Single. Day. We've pushed each other past every limit, beaten each other bloody, and learned everything there is to know about one another's fighting styles.
The fighters before were strong, but they were all caught off guard. Peter, on the other hand, knew every single in and out that I had. Every strength. Every weakness. This is going to be a hard fight.
Peter reaches the cage first, vaulting over it with effortless grace. He lands light on his feet, a stark contrast to me hauling myself over and dropping down with a heavy thud. The impact reverberates through my legs, but I barely notice.
This is the fight that determines everything.
We make eye contact. Just from his determined eyes, I can take away that he's thinking the same thing I am.
The bell rings.
Instantly the determined gleam in our eyes swaps out for a malevolent one, as we both dash forward, toward each other as if we're sworn enemies looking for blood. Just like we always have, the instant we met in the middle we went into a flurry of action.
I threw strike after strike with my fists, knees, shins, elbows, and whatever else I had, trying to predict Peters dodges.
Peter dodged one after another, used to my patterns, and always turning in abrupt angles, never letting me hit him. He always stood slightly out of my range, forcing me to move to get him. Just like always, he's trying to tire me out. If I keep fighting like I always do, I'm not going to get anywhere. he already memorized my attack patterns, and I'm not gonna hit him. I need to do something new.
I stop throwing my punches and stand still in the middle of the ring. I can't hit him anyways. I need to conserve my stamina. I leave myself open on all sides and wait for the spider to pounce. I just need one good hit.
Slowly, as if playing with his prey, Pete circles around me and throws one jab after another, careful not to be caught. The jabs sting a bit, but I stay still, knowing that my chance isn't here yet. The grizzly can't get the honey without a couple of stings.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Pete's muscles twitch. This is the one. He runs at me, arms cocked back, ready to land a critical blow. Me, anticipating this, instantly changed my footing, and launched a devastating roundhouse kick towards his oncoming form.
I waited for the impact, and for Peter to go flying. It never came. He must have somehow dodged it.
I heard a rough scratching sound from underneath and saw him. He slid under my kick like James Bond or something. Instead of backing away from the kick, he dove even deeper.
Before I could react, he made his way in front of me, about to strike. I quickly regained my footing to try and strike him, but it didn't connect again.
"Two fucking fakes in a row?" I yell out, astonished. He made his way behind me and put his arms around my throat. Great. A goddamn headlock. Even though I could withstand multiple strikes, just like any other human, I can't infinitely hold my breath.
I can already feel myself getting a little lightheaded. At this point, I'll only last a few minutes. I try to forcefully free myself from the headlock, but Pete's arms are too tightly wrapped around my throat. I need to think of something. Quick.
I keep struggling and trying to pull his arms off, but no matter how I try, it doesn't come off. My vision is getting blurry. I was stuck in the spider's web.
You know what? Fuck this. I know this isn't the most professional way to deal with a headlock, but I need to win for the quest reward.
"Sorry, Pete" I croak out through my clenched teeth, which Peter, thinking that he won, manages to quip back, "Sorry for wha-"
With Pete clinging to my neck behind me, I jumped up in the air as high as possible. Good thing I'm used to moving with heavy weights attached to me. I go almost a meter and a half above the ground. Peter still without time to react, hung on for dear life, thinking that I was trying to shake him off.
At the peak of my jump, I twist myself in the air, with my back facing the ground. Simultaneously, my vision started to black due to oxygen loss. The last thing I thought before it all went black was "Well, at least I tried. I guess Pete has his plot armour."
I slam down. I hear the sickening sound of air being crushed from Peter's lungs. The world flickers to black.
-o-
In an instant, which seemed like hours to me, my blurry mind regains clarity, as I am awoken by a massive impact, somewhat softened by something below me. I shake off my dazed mind, as I get up. I'm greeted by the cold grey walls of the underground room, and the MMA-style octagon around me. Oh right. I was fighting in a tournament. I was fighting-
I look down. Pete was lying completely splayed out below me, eyes rolled back, fully knocked out, crushed by my weight.
I blink.
...I guess I won?
Without notice, the announcer, Kingpin, comes back on.
"Congratulations, Grizzley, for winning the tournament. You have shown great promise, and our shareholders are very interested in you. Nevertheless, you have a choice. would you like to walk away with a prize, or challenge our champion?" His deep voice booms out, echoing in the small enclosed room.
suddenly,
[Quest Update!: Punch First, Regret Later.]
[After winning the tournament, you have been given the choice to fight the reigning champion of the underground fight club! Challenge him, and live to tell the tale!]
[Reward: Personalized VIBRANIUM weapon based on performance]
Well, shit. I guess I have to accept.
"I want to challenge the champion!" I yell up at the ceiling, not knowing where Kingpin is located. If the champion was the person shown on the invitation poster, then this might be winnable.
Right as I finish yelling, I hear a crash, and from above me, from one of the viewer's booths, a man comes crashing out of the one-way glass.
He lands inside the octagon with a loud thud. The atmosphere grows cold.
The man that stood up was fucking jacked, his muscles coiled like steel cables under his dark skin. Every inch of his torso is littered with raised scars, each one a trophy of a life spent in battle, a record of every man he's killed. And there were hundreds.
I gulp. Killmonger.
He's a lot more intimidating in person. I'm kinda regretting my choice at this point...
His face is moulded into a vicious grin, he cracks his knuckles, rolling his head side to side, a deep, gravelly chuckle escaping his throat.
He stepped closer and stared me down, while tossing Peter's unconscious body out of the ring.
"I saw you fight. you've got potential." Killmonger says, his voice calm, but carrying that same razor-sharp edge I'd heard in Black Panther. "You got guts, lil' homie. But that won't save you."
Shit.
(a/n just one last fight scene I promise. No more detailed fight scenes for a while after the one with Killmonger. also I am humbly asking for a few donations of power stones thank you)