The next morning didn’t ease anyone into the moment. Isaac felt it before he fully woke up, the sharp flicker of light against his closed eyes. He blinked slowly, vision adjusting, and the first thing he saw was Adrian standing over him with that same annoying grin plastered across his face. “Wakey wakey!” Adrian said in excitement, already lifting the instant camera again. Click. Isaac groaned softly, raising a hand to shield his eyes. “What the hell..?” Adrian looked down at the freshly printed photo, shaking it lightly before inspecting it like a proud artist. “Good to see that you didn’t lose your face, buddy.” Isaac sat up slowly, his body protesting just enough to remind him of what he went through the day before. His muscles were sore, his ribs still ached faintly, but nothing felt broken. That was something. He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “What happened after I passed out?” Adrian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sighed and jerked his head toward the

Isaac moved steadily down the long concrete hallway, the overhead lights flickering faintly as the entire structure trembled around him. Dust shook loose from the ceiling with each distant impact, the vibration wasn’t subtle anymore. “Jeez… At this point they’ll bring the whole building down.” He muttered under his breath. He had been in real battlefields before, he had heard artillery flatten neighborhoods and felt the shockwaves of explosions rattle his bones. But this felt different, it wasn’t war machinery… It was two people colliding with enough force to bend steel. He passed a massive digital map mounted on the wall, its bright interface displaying corridors, stairwells, emergency exits, restricted zones, and viewing areas. It was meant to help guests navigate the complex maze of the arena’s interior, especially those unfamiliar with its layout. Isaac slowed, then stopped. He took a few steps back, eye narrowing slightly as he studied the map more carefully. His gaze drifte

Holt let out a low snicker, “Isaac. Gerald’s most trusted friend and military ally… We meet again.” Isaac stood near the center of the room, shoulders squared and jaw tight. “Call the battle off.” He demanded firmly. Holt tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the simplicity of the demand. “Why should I? We’re just getting to the good part.” “You idiot! All of you!” Isaac snapped, turning sharply to glare at the seated elites. “You’re putting the lives of people in danger! We already have enough of that. When that fight escalates, the casualties will be deadly!” As if on cue, the entire structure trembled. It was a deep, violent rumble that shook the walls and rattled the glasses on the tables. Several of the elites instinctively grabbed onto their seats. Isaac rushed to the thick glass panel overlooking the arena below. He pressed his palm against it and stared down at the ring, his heart dropped. Michael and Mira were no longer holding back. Blue and crimson energy clashe

“Father.” Michael rasped, genuine surprise slipping through the fatigue in his voice. The blue glow around him dimmed slightly, though it didn’t disappear. Mira’s eyes darkened instead. A slow, sarcastic smile tugged at her lips. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my dear father?” Gerald regarded them both with the same measured look, “If it isn’t my rogue daughter?” He tilted his head faintly, studying her from head to toe. “Looking at you…” Mira scoffed, folding her arms. “What? Reminds you of how badly you messed up as a parent?” Gerald didn’t rise to the insult. His voice was calm when he answered, “Reminds me of how much you look like your mother.” The words hit differently than she expected. For a split second, the red glow in Mira’s eyes faltered. Her expression froze, confusion flashing through the anger. Seriously? Was this some cheap attempt to throw her off balance? Some emotional trick to make her hesitate? She turned her face away, jaw tight. “Whatever.” “Gerald!” The s

Three days later. Michael sat up slowly in the hospital bed and flexed his fingers one by one. The stiffness was still there, but the strength had returned. He had woken up only minutes ago, disoriented at first, unsure how much time had passed. He turned his head toward the window. Aurora City looked the same as always, neon lights flickered in layers across the skyline, elevated rails hummed with passing transit, digital billboards pulsed with color against the night sky… On the television mounted across the room, muted replays of the arena fight cycled endlessly. Blue and crimson energy collided in dramatic slow motion, reactors dissected every frame, headlines scrolled beneath the footage, already calling it historic. No doubt this event would go down in the city’s history. The door opened. Michael glanced over casually at first, then his eyes widened. “Michael!” Celia’s voice broke through the room as she rushed toward him. She didn’t hesitate, she practically launched hers