The back halls of the arena stank of iron and ash. Blood still dripped from Ryden's knuckles as he passed grim-faced guards and nervous medics. They didn't speak. They knew better.
Behind him, Gorr lay broken.Ahead of him, the chain waited.
A door creaked open at the end of the corridor. Inside—candlelit, quiet, and cold—stood a man with gold-rimmed glasses and a serpent tattoo crawling up his neck.
Vin Mallix.
The "manager." The one who'd dragged Ryden into slavery years ago with a smile and a contract soaked in blood.
"You're alive," Vin said softly. "I watched you die in Pit #9."
Ryden didn't flinch. "You saw what you wanted to see."
Vin poured a drink—brandy, always brandy. "What do you want, Ryden?"
Ryden stepped into the light. "I want him."
Vin's hand paused.
"Him" was Nero Valance, the king behind the chain. The man who turned fighters into monsters and loyalty into dust. The one who gave the order that sent Ryden to his death.
"You can't just—" Vin started.
CRASH.Ryden slammed his fist into the table. Glass shattered.
"I don't want to just fight," he growled. "I want to tear it all down."
Vin studied him, then smiled.
"Then you'll need to start at the bottom again."
THE UNDERGROUND
Ryden descended into the older arenas, where no rules existed and every fight ended in blood or bones. The crowd here didn't chant names—they screamed for death.
Tonight's opponent: Vance "The Smiler" Carron. Once Ryden's friend. Now a puppet of Nero.
Vance entered shirtless, laughing. "Never thought I'd see you, brother."
Ryden's expression didn't change.
"I thought you were dead," Vance continued, stretching. "I cried, you know. Then I laughed. Then I took your place."
He raised his fists. "Let's see if the old dog still bites."
The bell rang.
They clashed like titans.Fist met fist. Elbow met jaw. Knees collided. Grunts echoed. Blood sprayed.
But Vance fought dirty.Headbutts. Thumb to the eye. Even a hidden blade—but Ryden saw it.
Blocked. Countered.And then he remembered.
FLASHBACK: THE FINAL LESSON
His father, once a master pit fighter, trained him in secret.
"In the dark, son, you don't win with strength. You win with memory. You win with pain. Because pain never forgets."
Back in the arena, Ryden roared.
He ducked low, took a stab across his ribs—but ignored it. Grabbed Vance's arm, twisted it, dislocated the elbow. Then—
Headbutt. Elbow. Spin. Leg sweep. Fist. Fist. Fist.
CRACK.Vance's smile broke.
Ryden stood over him. "You took my place. Now take my pain."
He slammed his fist into Vance's chest—right over the heart.
THUMP.
Silence.
Then—heartbeat.
Vance gasped. Barely alive.
"I let you live," Ryden whispered. "So you can tell Nero: the Ghost is real."
Backstage, Vin waited with a black duffel bag.
Inside: a chain. Rusted. Broken. Familiar.
"Your old cuffs," Vin said. "Recovered them the day you 'died.' Thought you might want them back."
Ryden stared.
Then grabbed them—one for each fist—and wrapped them tight like war gauntlets.
"Let them feel what they did," he muttered.
END OF CHAPTER 2