[ Please Select Level ]
"Level 5."
[ Select Combat Style ]
"Random."
[ Defensive or Offensive ]
"Both."
[ Choose Armor Configuration ]
"Balanced."
[ Deploy Combat Unit? ]
"Yes."
---
If one listened closely, they might hear the low mechanical hum of the humanoid robot now standing in the arena's center. The circular arena was seventy feet across, its polished floor reflecting the glow of neon-blue energy strips running along the edges.
Around the dojo, activity thrummed like a living heartbeat. Students clashed in sparring matches within nearby arenas, while others tested their skills against sleek combat bots. Some paused mid-training, drawn to the spectacle whenever a fight became too intense to ignore.
For those less focused on combat, rows of gym equipment lined one side, offering space to hone raw strength and endurance.
At the far end stood a refreshment corner—no less crowded despite its placement. Stocked with energy drinks, fresh fruit, hot meals, and quick snacks, it kept everyone fuelled and ready for the next round.
A boy of sixteen stepped onto the battle platform. His frame was lean, not imposing, but his presence carried a weight that stilled the chatter nearest to him. His eyes — an intense, near-black gray — locked on the six-foot combat unit awaiting him across twenty-five feet of space. The boy wore a fitted black combat suit, every muscle taut with focus.
This was Adriel.
His gaze was cold, predatory.
"Start!" the AI referee commanded.
---
Whoosh!
The combat unit blurred forward, its joints hissing faintly as it accelerated. Adriel stood rooted, unmoving, eyes locked on its trajectory. A steel fist cut through the air —
CLANG!
Adriel's forearm snapped up, redirecting the strike with a sharp parry. In the same breath, his right fist shot forward. The machine tilted its head, the blow grazing past with inhuman precision.
Adriel's heel lashed out — BAM! — driving into the robot's chest. It staggered back a step, servos whining. But instead of retreating, it instantly whipped into a roundhouse aimed at his head. Adriel ducked under, only to find a piston-powered side kick already driving toward his ribs. He twisted, narrowly evading, the wind of the strike brushing past him.
The exchange sharpened. The robot snapped out a jab-cross combination, punches that felt like rocks hammering forward. Adriel absorbed them on his guard, each impact sending vibrations down his bones, before answering with a flurry of his own.
"Hey, he's doing it again!"
"Level 5? Seriously? He's lost nine times already."
"Heh, and all in one day, too. Thought he'd quit."
"Been two weeks since then. Maybe he's finally ready."
"Tch, fat chance. Only one person's ever beaten a Level 5."
Murmurs built into a buzz as the fight's intensity drew more eyes. People gathered round the arena to watch the fight unfold.
---
BOOM!
A metallic fist slammed into Adriel's chest. His lungs emptied in a ragged gasp as his boots screeched backward across the arena, leaving black streaks. Two meters. He caught himself just short of the ring's edge.
He felt a trickle of blood run down his lips and watched as the robot advanced, unrelenting.
Adriel's eyes narrowed, tracking every shift of weight, every twitch in its frame. I've studied you, he thought coldly. Every tactic, every pattern. You won't break me this time.
Right leg forward.
Angle shift.
Spinning kick incoming.
The machine leapt, twisting into a textbook-perfect spin. Adriel vaulted back, the kick slicing through empty air. Sparks erupted as the robot landed and immediately drove an elbow toward his face.
CLANG!
Adriel blocked, but the sheer force rattled his bones. He kept moving, weaving and deflecting — but to the crowd, it was obvious. He was being pushed back, battered on the defensive.
Yet his eyes burned, not with despair, but with patience.
He saw flaws — plenty of them. But he knew better. Against a Level 5, those were traps, bait to draw reckless counters. He waited.
"Not yet," he muttered under his breath.
The pressure mounted. The blows grew heavier. His ribs ached where strikes slipped past his guard. His breath came harder, the edge of the arena looming nearer with each step.
BAM!
A piston-like punch smashed against Adriel's guard. The shock tore down his arm, rattling bone, shoving him back a step. He barely reset before the robot's heel scythed toward his ribs.
Too fast. His body twisted, air rushing past his chest as the kick missed by inches. The next strike was already there—an elbow aimed at his jaw. He ducked, sparks flying as metal scraped against the energy floor.
The machine's rhythm was merciless. Jab—cross—hook—kick. Each strike flowed like programming, flawless, inhuman. Adriel's arms screamed as he blocked, his breath tearing ragged from his lungs.
To the crowd, it looked like survival at best.
"He's cornered already!" someone shouted.
"Same as last time—"
"No… look at his eyes."
Adriel's backpedal carried him toward the arena's edge. One more step and he'd be out. Sweat stung his vision. His ribs throbbed where a glancing blow had landed. His lungs burned, drawing air like fire.
And yet… his gaze never wavered.
He tracked everything—the way the robot's shoulders dipped a fraction before a kick, the microsecond pause before a punch extended. Flaws flashed before him, tantalizing. But he knew better. They were bait. He waited.
Not yet.
Another heavy punch slammed into his guard. The impact drove his feet across the floor, shrieking rubber against steel.
'Not yet.'
The machine feinted low, then whipped into a spinning roundhouse. The arc of its leg cut through the air like a blade. Adriel ducked, the strike missing his face by a hair's breadth. A gasp rippled through the crowd.
He straightened, chest heaving. Blood trickled from a split lip. His fists clenched tighter.
—
'Now!'
The robot lunged, launching a flying side kick straight for his chest.
Adriel's lips curled into a sharp smile.
His arms snapped forward, seizing the machine's leg mid-flight. Gasps erupted from the stands. With a roar, Adriel twisted, swinging the six-foot frame through the air and SLAM! — drove it into the arena floor hard enough to rattle the tiles.
Sparks burst from the machine's neck as it tried to rise.
Adriel didn't give it the chance. He surged forward, launching himself into the air — his knee crashed into the robot's faceplate, denting steel with a shriek of tearing metal. The machine's head whipped back, sensors flickering.
Adriel landed astride it and unleashed a storm of blows. Fists hammered down like relentless hammers, each strike fueled by nine humiliating losses, two weeks of obsession, and the single-minded will not to fall again.
Finally, the robot's frame went limp, smoke curling from its fractured core.
Silence fell.
Then —
"Winner: Adriel Goldhaven."
The arena erupted in cheers. Applause thundered, shouts echoed — but Adriel barely heard them. He rose slowly, chest heaving, a grin stretching across his face.
—
He watched the broken robot being hauled away for a while, then finally stepped down from the arena amidst the thunder of cheers.
His body ached everywhere. Each step sent a jolt of pain shooting through his muscles, but he pushed through until he reached the infirmary. He dropped onto a bed near the window, not even caring if it was taken, and let out a sharp breath.
An AI assistant rolled up beside him, voice polite but detached.
"Lie down, please."
He obeyed. A device lowered over him, humming as it released rays of light. It scanned his body, mapping out every fracture, bruise, and tear.
A nurse arrived shortly after, accompanied by medical bots that moved with mechanical precision. Treatment began immediately—cold sprays, regenerating injections, tissue knitters buzzing as they repaired his battered frame.
Then footsteps. Someone slid onto the bed opposite his.
"So, you finally took down a Level 5," the boy said.
Adriel turned his head, eyes narrowing.
"Why are you saying it like I've been wasting your damn time?"
"Congratulations."
"Thanks, man," Adriel said, pride dripping in his tone.
"I watched the fight. Brutal as hell. You didn't just beat it—you butchered it." Leo grinned, the memory fresh in his mind.
"We had beef," Adriel replied with a short chuckle. Leo laughed with him.
"We should fight sometime, Second," Leo said casually.
Adriel frowned. "Second? Why the hell are you calling me that?"
"I was the first to clear Level 5 without awakening."
Adriel just stared, silent.
"What? Got nothing to say, Second?" Leo smirked.
"Yeah, I'll shove my fist up your ass," Adriel shot back.
Leo waved dismissively. "Nah, too basic. Try harder."
Adriel tapped his chin like he was in deep thought.
"Hmm… I'll rip out your intestines and shove them in your mouth."
Leo chuckled. "Better. Still room for improvement, but I'll allow it."
If one were to describe their relationship, friends might've worked. But in truth, they had fought more than they'd talked. Sparring partners was more accurate. Still, Leo was the closest thing Adriel had to a friend.
When the treatment wrapped up, Adriel didn't move. He lay there, too tired to bother.
"You know…" Leo's voice broke the silence. "You might not catch up to me the way you think."
Adriel frowned. "The hell do you mean?"
"I'm getting an awakening serum tomorrow."
Adriel shot upright, staring at him. "You're serious?"
Leo nodded, a wide grin on his face.
"Bro, you're getting an awakening serum?!" Adriel nearly shouted.
"Yeah. Surprise gift from my old man." Leo's smile only widened.
Adriel shook his head in disbelief. An awakening serum. That wasn't just a gift—it was practically a golden ticket. Rumor said the price was over a million credits.
"Your dad bought it?" Adriel asked.
"He added his own credits to his accumulated merits. Easier since he's awakened already."
Leo's father, Ronan Vale, was a name everyone in the military knew. Rumor had it that his contributions to the military were so significant he was awarded an awakening serum, thus becoming one of the awakened. The exact details remained shrouded in secrecy, but for a prize as rare and invaluable as a serum to be granted, the deed must have been extraordinary.
Adriel rose from the bed eventually, his body still aching but his mind restless. He started toward the refreshment section.
"Yo, Adriel," Leo called.
"What's up?"
"Why don't you want to use an awakening serum, really?"
Adriel paused for just a moment, then continued walking.
"I'm going to awaken naturally. No need for a serum," he said flatly.
Leo raised a brow. "Where the hell do you get that kind of confidence, man?"
Adriel didn't answer. His footsteps carried him forward, but his mind drifted back—
To a memory burned into his soul.
A face he could never forget.
A voice that drove him forward.
The last memory of him.