Polo moved.
Tessa fired.
Her rifle barked, plasma bolts screaming through the air. One. Two. Three. A dozen. Rapid fire.
Polo weaved between them. Casual. Effortless. Like he was dancing. His movements minimal. Precise. Not a single wasted step.
Tessa's pink Resonance aura coated her eyes and arms. Her enhanced senses tracked his movements, predicted his dodges. She repositioned, firing from a different angle.
Polo's guns came up. Returned fire.
Tessa dove left. Rolled. The shots missed by centimeters. Her heart hammered but her hands stayed steady.
No Resonance from him. Nothing. He wasn't even trying.
He was toying with her.
Polo advanced. Closing distance.
Tessa unleashed another barrage. Forced him to stop. Reposition.
She moved again. Different elevation. Different angle. Keeping distance. Making him work for it.
The cameras captured everything. Two snipers. One duel. Close quarters.
Polo's expression shifted. Slight annoyance. This was taking longer than expected.
His shots came faster. More accurate.
One grazed Tessa's shoulder. She gasped but didn't stop.
In that split second of distraction, she fired back. A spread pattern. Covering more area.
Polo dodged most. But one plasma bolt clipped his leg. Not deep. But it drew blood.
He looked down. Then up at her.
His black eyes narrowed.
"WHAT A DUEL!" Larry was on his feet. "SHE ACTUALLY HIT HIM! TESSA MERLIN LANDED A SHOT ON POLO ROSSI!"
Jango leaned forward, impressed. "Kid's got guts. And brains. She's usin' terrain, changin' positions, forcin' him to respect her range."
Tessa reloaded with practiced speed. Muscle memory from Jango's drills. Her fingers moved like a machine. Magazine out. New one in. Chamber check. Ready.
She fired again.
Polo dove behind a rock formation. Actual cover. First time this fight.
Behind the rock, his mind was calculating.
She's used approximately forty-seven rounds. Standard magazine capacity is sixty. She has thirteen left before reload. The reload takes 1.8 seconds. That's my window.
He listened. Counted each shot.
But then the pattern changed.
Plasma bolts. Then physical bullets. Then plasma again. Different sounds. Different speeds. Different reload timing.
She was mixing ammunition types. Disrupting his count.
Polo's jaw tightened.
Clever.
With no other immediate option, his Resonance aura flickered to life. Black and white. Concentrated entirely around his ears.
Sound became texture. Each shot a distinct signature. The micro-delays between trigger pulls. The subtle difference in her breathing patterns when she switched ammo types.
He listened. Truly listened.
Found the rhythm beneath the chaos.
Then he moved.
His dual pistols came up over the rock. Didn't aim with eyes. Aimed with sound.
Two shots. Perfectly timed.
Both hit Tessa's arms. One in each bicep.
She screamed. Dropped her rifle. The weapon clattered against stone.
Polo was already running. Closing distance with frightening speed.
Tessa tried to reach for her rifle. Too slow.
Polo's fist connected with her face. A hook. Clean. Brutal. Her head snapped sideways.
She went down hard.
Polo kicked her rifle away. It skittered across the rocks, out of reach.
Tessa's vision blurred. Blood in her mouth. But her legs still worked.
As Polo stood over her, she swept his legs. Used his momentum against him. He stumbled.
She was on him immediately. Arms wrapping around his neck from behind. Sleeper hold. Squeezing.
Polo's eyes went wide. He couldn't breathe. His hands clawed at her arms but her grip held.
Then his elbow came back. Once. Twice. Three times. Slamming into her midsection with desperate force.
Ugly. Brutal. Survival.
Tessa's weak stomach betrayed her. She gasped, her grip loosening. The pain was too much.
Polo broke free, gasping for air.
He stood. She was still down.
His leg came up. A punt kick to her head.
The sound was sickening. Like a hammer hitting meat.
Tessa's body went limp for a second. Then slowly, impossibly, she started moving again. Pushed herself up. Blood streaming from her nose. Her lip split. Eye swelling.
She stood in a normal fighting stance. Fists raised. Ready.
Polo's expression didn't change. He just moved.
Boxing combinations. Clinical. Efficient. Body shots. Face shots. Each one precise. Each one devastating.
Jab. Cross. Hook. Uppercut.
Tessa's guard crumbled. Her body couldn't keep up. Couldn't defend.
The uppercut lifted her off her feet. She crashed backward.
Her vision started to fade. The world became distant. Blurry.
And in that space between consciousness and elimination, she saw it.
Flashback. Five years ago.
Little Tessa. Maybe nine years old. Hiding in a closet. Hands over her mouth to muffle her crying.
Through the crack in the door, she saw them. The robed figures. The symbols on the walls. Her mother, eyes vacant and glazed, standing among them.
"The girl will serve the purpose," one voice said. Cold. Clinical. "The ritual requires innocence."
Little Tessa had been too afraid to scream. Too afraid to run. Too afraid to do anything.
Her mother, brainwashed by their sick doctrine, had offered her own daughter as a sacrificial lamb for their degenerate activities.
ARMADA had raided the compound three days later. Saved her. Arrested them all.
But the fear remained. The paralysis. The helplessness.
I was too scared. Too scared to fight. Too scared to do anything.
The memory shifted.
The academy. That day with Richards. The predator selling private footage of girls.
Juli and Kade. Charging in. Fearless. Righteous fury burning in their eyes.
They never hesitated. Never backed down. Never let fear control them.
Pam standing beside her. A real friend. Someone who understood pain but chose strength anyway.
The three of them turned. Looked back at her. Not judging. Just... waiting.
Waiting for her to stand.
Present.
Tessa's eyes opened.
Polo stood over her. Fist raised for the final blow.
She smiled through the blood and tears.
"Give me your best shot," she whispered. Defiant. "I'm not afraid anymore."
Polo's fist came down.
Her tracker beeped. The elimination sequence started.
But she was still smiling.
...
Kade and Pam crested the ridge at full sprint.
They stopped.
Tessa lay on the ground. Blood everywhere. Face swollen. Arms limp. But she was smiling at them.
Polo stood over her, fists crimson. His black eyes had returned to their neutral state. Empty. Cold.
"Tessa..." Pam's voice cracked.
The pink-haired girl's body started to fade. Teleportation beginning.
Her smile widened. "I... I wasn't afraid."
Then she was gone.
Silence.
Kade's yellow aura EXPLODED around him. His eyes went feral. His claws extended fully. A sound came from his throat that wasn't human. Wasn't even Felinari.
Pure rage.
"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" Kade lunged forward.
Pam grabbed him. Her arms wrapped around his chest. Holding with everything she had.
"LET ME GO!"
"NO!" Pam's voice was raw. Her own rage barely contained. Tears streamed down her face. "NOT NOW!"
"HE BEAT HER! HE—"
"I KNOW!" Pam's grip tightened. "I know. But we can't. Not here. Not now."
Kade thrashed. His strength was overwhelming. Pam could barely hold him.
"We get eliminated, Tessa's sacrifice means NOTHING!" Pam's tears fell onto Kade's shoulder. "You want to avenge her? Do it in the FINALS! Where it MATTERS! Where the whole galaxy can see you destroy him!"
"I CAN'T—"
"YES YOU CAN!" Pam pulled him closer, her voice breaking. "We need points. We need to advance. For her. For Tessa. We honor her by WINNING."
Kade's struggles slowly weakened. His breathing ragged. His body shaking with barely suppressed violence.
Polo just watched. Expressionless. Then turned and walked away.
Kade's claws dug into his own palms. Drawing blood.
Pam held him. Her own tears falling freely now. Her jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
Tessa. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry we weren't fast enough.
The cameras captured it all.
The rage. The grief. The restraint.
And somewhere in the galaxy, trillions watched a girl's courage.
A girl who stood defiant even when fear should have consumed her.
A girl who smiled in the face of defeat.
Tessa Merlin.
Not the strongest. Not the fastest.
But brave.
So incredibly brave.