They hit the floor hard—except it wasn't concrete.
It was dirt. Packed, dry, and smelling faintly of sweat and blood. The lights above were blinding, and the roar that followed nearly blew Akira's eardrums out.
She blinked, trying to orient herself, but the scene snapped into focus—rows upon rows of people surrounding a massive underground pit. Smoke hung in the air. Neon signs in languages she didn't recognize flickered overhead.
And every single person was chanting.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
Her opponent stood up first, dusting himself off, that same irritating smirk on his face.
"Well… this is awkward," he said, looking around. "They think we're here for them."
The announcer's voice boomed from somewhere above:
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN… A SURPRISE MAIN EVENT! TWO NEWCOMERS, STRAIGHT FROM THE STREETS—READY TO DIE FOR GLORY!"
Akira glanced at the crowd. The bloodlust in their eyes said it all—if she didn't fight, they'd make her.
"You gonna play along?" he asked, rolling his shoulders.
"Oh, I'll play," she said, cracking her neck. "But don't think for a second I'm doing this for you."
A gong rang out.
He lunged first—faster than before. She barely sidestepped, grabbing his wrist and yanking him forward into a knee strike. The crowd roared.
But before she could follow up, another fighter—a hulking man with tattoos crawling up his neck—jumped into the pit. The announcer laughed like this was all part of the plan.
"OH, AND IT LOOKS LIKE THEY'LL HAVE COMPANY!"
Two more dropped in after that. Then three.
Within seconds, Akira and the stranger were back-to-back, surrounded.
"You said you wanted to keep me from leaving," he said, blocking a punch and sending a man flying. "Well… congratulations. You've got me stuck here with you."
She smirked, power sparking around her hands. "Good. Now let's make this interesting."
And then they moved—like a storm tearing through the arena.