THE RING…
CH2 stared Tucker down.
Neither man moved. The arena had fallen into a strange silence again.
Tucker remained in his stance, a few cuts and bruises, his fists raised, breathing through his nose.
Across from him, CH2 looked different.
Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow. A thin stream of blood still leaked from his nose, and the bridge had been knocked slightly crooked from Tucker's earlier attack.
CH2 reached up, with one quick movement, he shoved his nose back into place.
Tucker winced. "…Ouch."
CH2 lowered his hand. His eyes never left Tucker.
Then, he charged.
Tucker barely had time to react.
CH2's left fist came first.
Tucker blocked with his right forearm.
Then the right. His other arm snapped upward.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
The punches came like a hammer striking a shield over and over.
Tucker kept blocking, but every impact drove him backward. His arms began to shake.
He's hitting harder than before, Tucker thought.
CH2 threw another left. Tucker caught it against his forearm. Another right.
Tucker raised both arms. His feet slid across the canvas.
The crowd erupted.
"KEEP GOING, CH2!"
"BREAK HIS ARMS!"
"DON'T LET HIM BREATHE!"
Tucker gritted his teeth. He couldn't keep blocking like this. He needed an opening.
CH2 swung again. Tucker ducked, the fist passed over his head.
Tucker immediately stepped inside. His right fist shot toward CH2's ribs.
It connected.
CH2 barely moved. Tucker's eyes widened.
CH2 looked down at him. Then his fist tightened. A faint red aura crawled across his knuckles, Strength Presence.
Tucker's eyes widened. "Shit—"
CH2 swung a devastating left hook, Tucker dropped beneath it. The punch missed completely.
But CH2 didn't stop. His hand shot backward. He grabbed the top rope behind Tucker.
Tucker's eyes flicked toward it. "…What?"
CH2 yanked, the rope stretched violently toward him. Tucker straightened up, still unaware of what CH2 was doing.
CH2 released it. The rope whipped back into place.
It slammed directly across Tucker's neck. "HK—!" His entire body jerked backward.
The crowd exploded.
Tucker stumbled forward, desperately trying to breathe.
His hands instinctively went toward his throat. "Can't breathe—" he thought.
Before he could recover, CH2 was already there. Both of his hands wrapped around Tucker's legs.
Tucker's eyes widened. "Wait—!"
CH2 lifted. For one terrifying second, Tucker's feet left the canvas.
Then, CH2 threw him across the ring.
Tucker crashed onto his back and slid several feet across the canvas.
The crowd roared.
"YES!"
"GET HIM!"
"CH2!"
Tucker rolled onto his side, coughing blood violently. His throat burned. His lungs desperately dragged in air.
He planted a hand against the canvas.
"Come on," he thought.
He pushed himself up.
One knee, then the other. His vision blurred.
CH2 was already walking toward him. Tucker looked up. The massive fighter's breathing had become heavier now.
He was hurt.
But Tucker was beginning to realize something far more concerning.
"He's adapting," Tucker thought.
Tucker slowly raised his fists again. His arms felt heavier. His legs felt slower.
And for the first time since the bell rang…he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep matching CH2.
OUTSIDE THE SURVIVOR TUNNEL…
The brawl had grown.
What started as an argument over TR241 had spread through the surrounding crowd like a fire.
Prisoners shoved against one another. A table overturned. Glass shattered beneath someone's boots.
Shirley ducked beneath a swinging fist. "WHO ARE YOU EVEN FIGHTING?!"
The prisoner didn't answer.
He simply charged again. Shirley raised his fists.
TR241 stepped beside him, daggers already in her hands.
The two exchanged a quick glance. Neither needed to say anything. They were surrounded.
And the crowd was closing in.
Then, a familiar voice shouted from somewhere behind them.
"SHIRLEY!"
His eyes widened. "…EBS?"
He looked toward the sea of prisoners.
Then Michonne's voice followed. "MOVE!"
Shirley turned.
Through the chaos, he caught a glimpse of three figures forcing their way toward them.
Michonne, EBS, and Tongue, still hanging over Michonne's back.
Shirley's eyes widened. "…What the hell?"
Tongue waved happily. "HEY!"
A prisoner suddenly stepped between them.
Shirley raised his fists. TR241 raised her daggers.
Michonne pushed forward. And somewhere behind all of them, the arena erupted with another deafening roar.
Everyone stopped for half a second. Their eyes instinctively turned toward the ring.
Something had just happened.
Something big.
Shirley's expression changed. "…Tucker."
THE RING…
Tucker slowly raised his head.
CH2 stood over him.
And this time…he wasn't waiting.
MENGU'S OFFICE…
Mengu stood before the enormous window overlooking Mynistria Prison.
Far below, the prison stretched beneath the night sky like a sprawling wound of concrete and steel.
Lights flickered throughout the facility.
Somewhere down there, prisoners were working. Somewhere else, prisoners were being beaten.
And somewhere beneath all of it…Fight Night was still raging.
But from up here, none of it seemed real.
The night sky was unusually clear. Stars scattered across a deep blue horizon, the darkness almost appearing lighter than it should have been.
Mengu stared through the glass.
Two women stood silently on either side of him.
Behind his desk, however, two familiar figures occupied a large black couch.
Diamond sat with her legs crossed.
Her hair had been let down, perfectly straight except for the slight curls at the ends. Her eyes remained fixed on Mengu.
She wore a black sports bra beneath an open denim jacket, paired with fitted black jeans. A diamond-shaped tattoo stretched from beneath her ribcage, disappearing slightly beneath the waistband. Black platform boots completed the outfit, silver spikes lined the soles.
Beside her sat D1. She idly played with a loose strand of hair that had escaped her bun. She wore a blue turtleneck with black jeans and matching black platform boots.
Without her hair covering her face, her features were much easier to see.
Pale skin. Light blue eyes. Sharp, piercing.
She rested her head against one hand, her elbow planted against her knee.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Diamond broke the silence. "So…" She leaned back slightly, "You only decided to free us now?"
Mengu didn't turn around.
His eyes remained fixed on the city beyond the glass.
Silence.
Then his dry voice finally came. "I owed King a favor." His tone was almost bitter, "You're only free because of him."
Diamond raised an eyebrow.
D1 scoffed quietly. "We didn't need his help."
Mengu's jaw tightened. Diamond glanced toward her.
Then back toward Mengu. "Well, if you owe him a favor…"
She smiled. "…You might aswell owe me one?"
Mengu finally turned his head. "What?"
"Release a couple prisoners." Diamond responded.
Silence.
Mengu stared at her.
Then laughed, not because it was funny.
Because he couldn't believe she had actually asked. "You…" He slowly turned away from the window, "…dare to ask me that?"
Diamond's smile didn't disappear.
Mengu's expression hardened. "Maybe I'll have those prisoners executed in the morning."
D1 immediately lifted her head. "You don't even know who they are."
Mengu's hand rose to the bridge of his nose.
He pinched it.
His patience was visibly disappearing. "Then perhaps I'll kill everyone who came in with you."
D1 went silent. Diamond's expression remained calm.
Mengu lowered his hand. "Would that satisfy you?"
Nobody answered.
He pointed toward the door. "I owe you nothing."
His voice grew sharper. "You can stay in the living quarters tonight. Tomorrow, you can find your own way out."
He paused. "And don't mistake that for generosity." Mengu's eyes narrowed, "You're lucky you're part of the Playing Cards."
Diamond slowly stood.
The room became quiet again. She adjusted her jacket. "Why end the night so early?"
Mengu stared at her.
Diamond continued. "I've heard plenty about your prison."
She took a step forward. "Forced labor." Another. "People disappearing." Another. "People being killed every day." Her eyes narrowed, "People being experimented on."
Mengu's expression barely changed.
Then Diamond smiled. "And…" She tilted her head. "A Fight Night?"
Mengu's eyes widened.
Diamond noticed. "…Apparently, you're a frequent attendee."
The woman standing beside Mengu shifted uncomfortably.
Mengu slowly turned toward Diamond. For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he stepped away from the window. His heavy footsteps echoed through the office.
The woman beside him immediately stepped aside.
Mengu walked past his enormous throne-like chair, his gloved fingers lightly brushing against the edge as he passed.
His presence alone seemed to change the room.
Up close, his size was imposing. His body was broad and heavy beneath his perfectly fitted black suit.
Black gloves covered his hands. His sleek black shoes clicked against the floor.
His dark hair fell forward in a curtain-like style, nearly reaching his brown eyes.
His face was round and sun-tanned, his complexion a mixture of tones.
His eyes were slightly narrow beneath the fold of his eyelids.
He stopped directly in front of Diamond and D1. Then, "Of course I'm a frequent attendee."
His voice suddenly exploded through the room. "It's MY FUCKING PRISON!"
Diamond's eyebrows rose.
Mengu pointed toward the floor. "And your fucking boss is the reason I'm stuck up here instead of down there!"
He gestured angrily toward the distant arena. "Do you have any idea what I'm missing?"
He started pacing. "I should be in my booth!" He threw his arms outward. "I should be watching the fights!"
His voice became almost gleeful. "The blood!" He laughed. "The screaming!" He slapped his hands together, "People beating the shit out of each other!"
He continued pacing. "Women around me! Drinks! Food! Gambling!" His eyes practically lit up. "Entertainment!"
He suddenly stopped. "This doesn't happen every night, you know!"
Diamond and D1 exchanged a glance.
Mengu pointed toward the door. "So can you stop wasting my fucking time and leave?"
Diamond stared at him for a moment. Then smiled. "…How about you take us there?"
Mengu froze.
Diamond shrugged. "I'm sure we'd love a night out."
D1 looked at Diamond, then at Mengu.
She gave a small nod. "Yeah…Sure, bud."
Mengu's eyes widened. "You…" He pointed between them. "You two actually want to go?"
Diamond nodded. "Why not?"
For several seconds, Mengu simply stared.
Then his entire expression transformed. A huge grin spread across his face. "Really?"
He practically bounced on his feet. "With me?"
Diamond laughed softly. "Sure."
Mengu immediately turned toward the door. "THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE WAITING FOR?!"
He threw the office doors open. "LET'S GO!"
He stormed into the hallway with the excitement of a child being told he could stay up past midnight.
Diamond followed at a much calmer pace.
D1 walked beside her.
As they passed through the doorway, Diamond glanced toward D1. "…Don't worry I have a plan."
D1 looked ahead. "You better."
Behind them, Mengu's voice echoed through the hallway.
"FIGHT NIGHT!" He laughed. "I'VE MISSED THIS!"
THE RING…
CH2 took another step forward.
Tucker stood. For a moment, neither moved.
Then CH2 disappeared forward. Tucker barely saw the first punch, he ducked. The second came immediately.
He raised his forearm. Pain shot through his arm.
Before he could counter, CH2's knee came upward.
Tucker twisted sideways. The knee grazed his ribs. He stumbled, CH2 followed. Tucker threw a quick jab.
CH2 knocked it aside. Tucker tried another.
Blocked.
A third.
CH2 caught his wrist. Tucker immediately twisted his arm, slipped free, and drove his shoulder into CH2's chest.
CH2 barely moved. Tucker's eyes widened. CH2 shoved him away.
Tucker slid backward across the canvas.
The crowd roared.
"CH2!"
"BREAK HIM!"
"FINISH IT!"
Tucker wiped his mouth.
"He's faster now. Or maybe…I'm getting slower," he thought.
His chest was already rising and falling heavily.
CH2 charged again.
Tucker moved first. He stepped to the side and swung toward CH2's jaw.
CH2 ducked. Tucker immediately changed direction.
His knee drove toward CH2's stomach. It connected.
CH2 grunted. Tucker tried to capitalize.
Right hand. Left. Another right. CH2 blocked all three.
Then his fist came through the middle. Tucker barely moved his head. The punch grazed his cheek.
A thin cut opened.
Tucker stepped backward. CH2 came forward.
Tucker circled, CH2 followed.
For the next several seconds, neither man could gain complete control.
Tucker would find an opening. CH2 would shut it down.
CH2 would corner him. Tucker would escape.
Again, and again, and again.
The crowd began to realize what they were watching.
This wasn't a one-sided beating, it was a battle of two completely different fighters.
CH2 had the strength. Tucker had the instincts.
CH2's punches were heavier. Tucker's movements were sharper.
CH2 controlled the center of the ring. Tucker controlled the pace.
But slowly…the advantage began shifting.
Tucker's movements weren't as quick anymore.
His feet dragged slightly. His guard took longer to return.
CH2 noticed.
He threw a jab, Tucker blocked.
Another. Tucker blocked.
A third, Tucker was a fraction too slow.
The punch clipped his cheek. Tucker stumbled sideways.
CH2 immediately followed with a body shot.
Tucker dropped his elbow just in time. The impact still forced him backward. Tucker gritted his teeth.
"Don't let him dictate the fight," he thought.
CH2 swung again. Tucker ducked.
He moved behind CH2. For a second, he had an opening.
Tucker attacked. His fist connected with CH2's side.
CH2 grunted.
Tucker immediately tried to follow with a kick.
CH2 caught his leg, Tucker's eyes widened.
He twisted his body and struck CH2's forearm.
CH2 released him, Tucker landed awkwardly. CH2 charged, Tucker ducked.
CH2's fist passed overhead, Tucker rolled across the canvas.
He sprang back up.
The crowd erupted.
But Tucker wasn't smiling anymore. He was breathing too hard. His arms felt heavy. His throat still burned from the rope. His back screamed every time he moved.
And CH2…was still coming.
OUTSIDE THE SURVIVOR TUNNEL…
The brawl had completely changed.
What had once been a chaotic crowd of prisoners was now a battlefield.
Shirley ducked beneath a punch.
His fist immediately drove into the prisoner's stomach.
The man doubled over. Shirley grabbed his shoulder and shoved him into another prisoner.
Both crashed against the wall. "MOVE!"
TR241 spun beside him. A prisoner lunged at her. She stepped aside.
Her hand caught his wrist. She twisted. The man dropped to one knee. TR241 kicked his leg out from underneath him.
He crashed onto his back. "That's two!"
Shirley blinked. "…You're counting?"
"Helps me focus!" TR241 asked.
Another prisoner charged Shirley, Shirley ducked. The man's fist flew over his head.
Shirley grabbed his arm and used his momentum to throw him into the crowd. Three people went down.
TR241 laughed. "Okay! That was good!"
"Thanks!" Shirley said.
Shirley turned, a bottle shattered against the wall beside his head.
He flinched. "…Okay, maybe less celebrating!"
Another prisoner grabbed his shirt. Shirley reacted instantly. He slammed his forehead into the man's nose.
The prisoner released him.
Shirley shoved him backward, then rubbed his forehead in pain.
TR241 stepped in beside him. The two stood back-to-back.
Around them, several prisoners were either unconscious, retreating, or simply too exhausted to continue.
Shirley looked around. "…We're actually winning."
TR241 smiled. "Told you."
Then a familiar voice shouted through the chaos.
"SHIRLEY!"
Shirley turned. Michonne was finally breaking through the crowd.
EBS followed behind her, and Tongue was still on Michonne's back.
Shirley stared. "…She's still carrying her?"
Michonne glared. "Don't ask."
Tongue waved. "Hi!"
Shirley laughed despite himself. Then another prisoner charged.
Michonne immediately dropped Tongue.
Tongue landed on her feet. "…Oh."
Michonne cracked her knuckles. "Finally."
The prisoner stopped.
He looked at Michonne, then Shirley, then TR241, then EBS.
"…Fuck." He turned around.
Tongue stood behind him.
His entire face went pale.
THE RING…
Tucker stumbled backward.
CH2 followed. A punch. Tucker blocked, another, he blocked again.
A third. His guard dropped. The fist struck his shoulder.
Tucker grunted.
CH2 swung again.
Tucker ducked, CH2's fist missed.
Tucker attempted a counter. CH2 caught his arm.
He twisted.
Tucker's shoulder screamed. "GH—!"
Tucker immediately kicked CH2's knee. CH2 released him.
Tucker stumbled away. Both fighters separated.
The crowd roared.
Tucker breathed heavily. CH2 barely seemed tired.
"Come on," he thought. Tucker tightened his fists."Think," he thought. He watched CH2.
The shoulders, the feet, the breathing.
"There!" He thought.
CH2's right foot shifted slightly whenever he prepared to throw his left.
Tucker noticed it. He'd seen it before. But he'd been too exhausted to use it.
Now…he had a chance.
CH2 stepped forward, Tucker retreated, CH2 followed.
Another step. Tucker retreated again.
The crowd began booing.
"FIGHT!"
"STOP RUNNING!"
Tucker ignored them.
CH2's patience finally broke, he charged.
Tucker waited.
CH2 swung, Tucker moved. The punch missed. Tucker stepped inside.
His left fist struck CH2's ribs, CH2 grunted in pain.
Tucker leaped then his right fist followed. Jaw, CH2's head snapped sideways.
The crowd gasped.
Tucker didn't stop, he drove his shoulder into CH2's chest.
CH2 staggered backward.
One step, two…his back slammed against the ropes.
The crowd exploded.
Tucker's eyes widened.
"Got you," he thought.
He rushed forward. CH2 tried to push himself off the ropes.
Tucker's fist came first. His Strength Presence surged through the punch.
The blow struck CH2 directly in the chest. The ropes stretched behind him, then snapped forward.
CH2 was launched away from them, he stumbled several feet across the ring.
Tucker chased him. He couldn't let the opening disappear.
Tucker stepped forward and swung again.
CH2 blocked, Tucker changed angles.
Left, right.
CH2 blocked the first, the second struck his ribs. CH2 stumbled.
Tucker planted his foot. Strength Presence surged through his leg. He drove his shoulder into CH2.
CH2 hit the canvas.
The arena erupted.
Tucker stumbled backward. His chest heaved. He could barely believe it. He had done it, he'd knocked him down again.
The crowd was screaming.
"TUCKER!"
"GET UP, CH2!"
"FINISH HIM!"
Tucker stared down at him. "…Stay down."
CH2 didn't move.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Tucker slowly lowered his fists.
Then, CH2's hand pressed against the canvas.
Tucker froze. The crowd began to rise.
CH2 pushed himself up.
One knee, then both feet. Blood dripped from his mouth.
He wiped it away with the back of his hand. He looked at Tucker.
Tucker's stomach tightened, CH2 rolled his shoulder.
Then his neck.
He slowly raised his head. "…It's time to use it…"
He paused. His eyes sharpened. "…it seems."
Tucker's expression changed. The crowd went completely insane.
And for the first time since the bell rang…Tucker wondered exactly what CH2 had been holding back.