After dealing with the alleyway fight, Tony had head home, not so eager to hear his mom complain.
Now— Tony entered the apartment only to be met with his mother standing at the doorway
"Where have you been and why are you so beaten up?" She questions.
"It's nothing— i'm fine" he replies
"Don't be getting into fights at school, i'm gonna get worried" She says stern
"Whatever, you don't care that much anyway" He mutters
Tony starts to walk towards the stairs only to be blocked by his Mother
"I'm sorry, what was that?" She questioned
"It was nothing, I won't get into fights" He continues his walk upstairs—
Tony dropped his jacket over the chair and pulled the letter from his pocket, lying on his bed, lamp flickering slightly.
He turned it over in his hands slowly. It didn't feel like paper—it felt heavier. Like it was made of something else. Something older.
He sat up on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the letter.
"This is insane... an underground fight club? And that mask... it definitely wasn't just for show." Tony mutters.
His fingers gripped the letter tighter. He could still feel the weight of that punch from earlier, the speed, the power—
"That mask changed him. Made him something else. If I'm going to understand any of this... it starts here." He thought of the boss
He unfolded the letter. Inside, a single line: "TONIGHT. NO RULES. NO LIMITS. PROVE YOUR WORTH."
Below it, an address. And beneath that, stamped in deep black ink: a jagged, toothy grin.
Tony stared at it for a long moment. The symbol pulsed in the back of his mind like something he'd seen before—but couldn't place.
He stood slowly, wincing at the pain in his side. But he didn't hesitate.
"Screw it." He muttered.
Tony grabbed his jacket, slid the letter into his pocket, and stepped into the night.
The bass hit first—deep and distant, drawing him toward something hidden beneath the city's skin.
A hidden venue pulsing with energy, filled with roaring crowds, flashing lights, and the unmistakable tension of a world where strength reigns supreme.
"I'm guessing this is the place" he mutters.
The air inside is thick—sweat, smoke, and adrenaline all blending into a cocktail that hits Tony like a punch to the gut. Neon lights strobe across cracked concrete walls. Men and women roar as a fresh fight breaks out inside the caged arena.
Tony pushes through the crowd, keeping his head low. He's not here to be seen—he's here for answers. But before he can take in too much, a voice calls out above the noise.
"Well, well... didn't think I'd see you here."
He turns. Aiko leans against a metal railing, arms crossed. Her school uniform's gone—replaced with a cropped jacket, combat boots, and fingerless gloves. She looks different. Sharper. More dangerous. Like she belongs here.
"Aiko?" Tony's shoulders eased—finally, a familiar face.
She smirks, tilting her head.
"Oh, so you do remember me. Thought I didn't make much of an impression." Aiko replies.
"I remember you being a pain in the ass at lunch." He glances around .
"What are you doing here?" Tony crosses his arms.
"Same as you. Looking for something. Or maybe... looking to lose something." She walks closer to him.
Tony studies her. There's a weight in her tone. A secret she's not saying out loud.
"You fight here?" He asks.
"Sometimes. Mostly I just watch... until someone catches my attention." She grins.
Her gaze flicks briefly to the letter sticking out of Tony's jacket.
"You got one of those invites, didn't you?"
Tony tenses. She caught that quick.
"Maybe." He says carefully.
"Then you should know... this place doesn't just chew people up. It changes them." Aiko says with a soft but serious tone—.
The crowd erupts as two masked fighters enter the ring. One wears a jagged skull-like mask, the other a twisted fox grin. They move like predators—inhuman, calculated, enhanced.
"People don't come here to win. They come to find out who they are... or what they'll become when there's nothing left." She whispers.
Tony watches the fighters with a growing unease. Their speed. Their power. Their masks. All of it feels... off.
'What the hell is this place?' Tony thinks—.
"So, still thinking about staying?" Aiko says.
"I already made it through the door, didn't I?" Tony answers.
"Guess you're crazier than you look. Come on. You'll want to see this next part." She chuckles.
She vanishes into the crowd. Tony follows. But something in the air shifts. Someone's watching him.
As the fight ends with a brutal knockout, the roar of the crowd fades behind Tony. He finds himself in a quieter corridor off the main floor—dim, industrial, almost abandoned. But not quite.
"You're either very brave or very stupid, walking in here without a mask."
Tony turns. A mysterious woman leans against a rusted pillar, dressed in a black tight dress and high heels. Her smirk is like a knife—sharp, playful, dangerous.
"Not a fan of those options. Got another option for me?" Tony replies.
"Maybe. But that depends on how much I like you." She says
She circles him slowly, a predator sizing up prey. Tony doesn't flinch, but he stays on guard. Something tells him this woman is far more dangerous than she looks.
"I'm guessing you don't go around offering help to just anyone." He says.
"Oh, you caught on— absolutely not. But you... you're interesting. Either you're reckless, or you have no idea what you've stepped into." The woman teases.
Tony doesn't respond, his silence makes Luciana's smirk widen.
"Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous tonight. I could get you a mask— for a price."
"And what's the catch?" Tony remarks.
Before the woman can respond, a slow, deliberate voice cuts through the air.
"I'd advise against making deals so hastily."
Tony turns to see a man approaching, his long black coat sweeping behind him. His beaked mask, resembling a plague doctor, gives him an unsettling presence—like a shadow lurking just out of sight.
"You don't belong here. Not yet. And that makes you a liability."
The man steps forward, producing a small, velvet-wrapped object from his coat. He offers it to Tony—not a mask, but a black, smooth coin-like token, etched with a faint, grinning white smile.
"This is not a mask. It's a key. It doesn't hide your face. It reveals what's already there."
Tony stares at it. The moment his fingers brush the surface, a jolt runs up his arm. Brief. Electric. Familiar.
"What the hell is this?"
"Think of it like a mirror. When the moment comes— it shows you what you've been trying to forget." The woman replies.
Tony pockets the token, his chest tight. Something in it called to him. Not just the surface buzz—but something deeper. Older.
"We don't hand out masks here. You earn yours. Or it earns you."
The woman grins, stepping away into the shadows.
"Good luck, sweetheart. Let's see what's under that skin of yours."
The man lingers for only a moment more.
"Remember... when the time comes, you won't put the mask on. You'll let it out."
And with that, he vanishes down the corridor, coat trailing like smoke.
Tony stood alone. The token pressed against his leg like a brand. Heavy. Waiting. He clenches a fist, breath steadying. He's not sure what he just stepped into—but something tells him... it's already inside him.
The distant clang of the fight bell echoes again. And this time... it feels like it's calling him.