Round two had begun.
The announcement boards throughout the facility displayed the updated bracket that morning, fighters gathering in corridors and common areas to study their potential paths forward. The crowd was smaller now—sixteen fighters remained from the original thirty-two.
Lucius had glanced at the board only briefly.
Fight 1: William Walker vs Liu Yan - 1PM
Fight 2: Luc Shadow vs Idris A. Hamza - 4PM
Fight 3: Monster vs Iron Clad Wang - Tomorrow 1PM
Fight 4: Friday vs King - Tomorrow 4PM
His match wasn't until tomorrow afternoon. That gave him time.
He didn't attend either of today's fights. Fight 1 was already over by the time he made his way through the facility—William had won according to the brief announcement he'd heard echoing through the corridors. Fight 2 would start in about an hour, but Lucius had different priorities.
It was just past 3 PM when he arrived at the gym area.
The facility had multiple training spaces, but most fighters avoided the main gym during off-hours. Too public, too exposed. People didn't like showing their techniques or abilities where potential opponents could observe.
Which made it perfect for what Lucius needed.
He found Odd exactly where he expected—alone in the smaller adjacent room, working through basic conditioning exercises. The man moved carefully, still favoring his left side where the ribs were healing, but the medical treatment had worked well. The dislocated shoulder was back in place, the worst of the bruising had faded.
Odd stopped when he noticed Lucius enter, breathing heavily. "King. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Your fight is in two days," Lucius said, walking over. "Fight six. You're facing Reaper."
Odd nodded slowly. "Yeah. I saw the bracket."
"Shadow manipulation. He can solidify darkness into physical constructs, use shadows for enhanced mobility. He's strong. Very strong."
"So I'm probably screwed," Odd said with a weak attempt at humor.
"Not if you start using your abilities properly."
Odd blinked. "What do you mean?"
Lucius gestured to the main gym floor. "In your first fight, I told you to observe your opponent before revealing your own capabilities. That was the right strategy when nobody knew what you could do."
"And now?"
"Now everyone saw you use gel hardening and impact absorption against Son Tec. The secrecy advantage is gone." Lucius moved toward the center of the floor. "Which means your strategy needs to change. You can't rely on surprise anymore. You need to use your abilities in ways they don't expect."
Odd followed him onto the floor. "I'm not sure I follow."
"Your opponent will prepare for what they saw in your last fight. They'll expect you to harden defensively, to absorb impacts, maybe to use the slippery state for escapes. So you need to use those same abilities differently. Make them second-guess their preparation."
"That sounds good in theory, but I'm not exactly a tactical genius here."
"You don't need to be. You need to understand what you can actually do." Lucius stopped and turned to face him. "Which is why we're going to figure that out. Walk me through your abilities. Everything. Start with the basics."
Odd hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. So, the gel production started when I was twelve. My body becomes rubber-like naturally—that's the base state."
"Show me."
Odd triggered his ability. His skin took on that characteristic glossy sheen, his body language shifting as the transformation completed. He moved his arm experimentally—the motion had a fluid quality to it, less rigid than normal flesh.
Lucius walked around him, observing. "How does it feel?"
"Like... my whole body is more flexible. Loose. I can move in ways that would normally hurt."
"Can you control the density?"
"Yeah. I can make it firmer or more liquid-like depending on what I need."
"Demonstrate. Firmest you can make it."
Odd concentrated. His body took on a more solid appearance, the glossy sheen intensifying. He rapped his knuckles against his forearm—it produced a sound like tapping hard plastic.
"And the softest?"
The transformation shifted again. Now Odd's body looked almost gelatinous, rippling slightly with each breath.
"How long can you maintain each state?"
"The rubber form is basically default—I can stay like that indefinitely. The hardened state tires me out after a few minutes. The liquid state is less draining but harder to control."
Lucius nodded, processing. "So rubber is your baseline. That gives you natural impact absorption and flexibility. The hardening is your defensive option, but it has a stamina cost. The liquid state is situational."
"That's about right."
"What about transitions? How fast can you switch between states?"
"Pretty fast. Maybe a second or two?"
"Show me. Hard to soft, then back to rubber."
Odd cycled through the states. Hardened, then liquid, then back to his baseline rubber form. Each transition took roughly a second and a half.
Lucius watched carefully. "You're thinking about each change. That hesitation will get you killed."
"I'm working on it."
"We're going to drill it until you're not thinking at all. Until your body responds before your brain catches up." Lucius backed up a few steps. "But first, tell me about the slippery application. How does that work?"
"I can make the surface of my gel extremely slick. Makes it hard for people to grab me or maintain a grip."
"Can you make specific body parts slippery while keeping others normal?"
Odd paused. "I... never really tried that."
"Try it now. Make your right arm slippery, keep the rest normal."
Odd concentrated. His right arm took on an almost oily sheen while the rest of his body maintained the standard rubber texture.
"How difficult was that?"
"Not too bad actually. Just had to focus on where I wanted the change."
"Good. That's useful. Selective application means you can escape grapples while maintaining your footwork." Lucius continued his analysis. "What about the absorption? When you take impacts in your soft state, what happens to the force?"
"It spreads out through my body. Doesn't hurt as much, but I still feel it. And I get knocked back unless I'm braced."
"So the force doesn't disappear, it just disperses."
"Right."
Lucius was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Have you ever tried absorbing an impact in your soft state, then immediately hardening to lock that absorbed energy in place?"
Odd stared at him. "What?"
"If your gel can store and distribute force when soft, and then harden to maintain structural integrity, there might be a way to turn absorbed impacts into stored energy. Then release it when you counter-attack."
"That sounds... complicated."
"Everything's complicated until you practice it. We'll work on the fundamentals first." Lucius moved into a ready stance. "Right now, I need to see your actual combat application. Not theory. Not isolated demonstrations. Show me how you fight."
Odd shifted into a street-fighting stance—practical, balanced, clearly learned from experience rather than formal training.
"Come at me," Lucius said. "Use your abilities however feels natural."
"You sure?"
"I'll be fine."
Odd hesitated for just a moment, then moved forward. He threw a jab—his rubber-state arm extending slightly further than normal, the added flexibility giving him extra reach.
Lucius slipped the punch easily, watching how Odd's body moved. The follow-up was a low kick, again using the flexibility to generate unexpected angles.
"Stop," Lucius said. "Reset."
Odd backed off, breathing slightly heavier.
"Your instincts aren't bad. You're using the flexibility for reach and unpredictable angles. But you're still fighting like a normal person who happens to have rubber arms. You're not fighting like someone made of gel."
"I don't understand the difference."
"A normal fighter has to protect their structure. Their bones, their organs, their joints. They have hard limits on how they can move and what hits they can take." Lucius gestured at Odd's body. "You don't have those same limitations. Your entire body is a shock absorber. You can take hits that would break normal fighters and keep going. But you're still fighting like you're fragile."
Odd processed this. "So you're saying I should be more aggressive? Take risks?"
"I'm saying you should understand what you actually are. You're not a normal fighter with a defensive ability. You're a defensive fighter who can afford to be aggressive." Lucius moved closer. "Hit me again. This time, don't worry about my counter. Just attack."
Odd threw another combination—jab, cross, hook. Each punch had that extended reach, but he was still pulling back defensively after each strike.
Lucius caught the hook, his hand closing around Odd's wrist. "Here. I've got your arm. What do you do?"
"Pull away? Make my arm slippery?"
"That works if you want to escape. But what if you want to counter while I'm holding you?"
"I... don't know."
"Your arm is gel. It can extend, compress, twist in ways normal arms can't." Lucius tightened his grip. "So use that. Show me."
Odd concentrated. His captured arm began to thin slightly, the gel redistributing. The wrist Lucius was holding narrowed, and Odd pulled—not straight back, but with a twisting motion that took advantage of his unnatural flexibility.
His arm slipped free, and in the same motion, he threw a punch with his other hand.
Lucius caught that one too, but he was nodding. "Better. You adapted. Used your properties instead of fighting against them."
"Felt weird."
"It should. You're not used to thinking that way yet." Lucius released Odd's wrist. "That's what training is for. Making the weird feel normal."
They continued for the next twenty minutes, Lucius testing Odd's reactions and observing how he used his abilities under pressure. Not attacking seriously, but pushing hard enough to see patterns.
"Alright," Lucius finally said. "I've seen enough. Take a break."
Odd moved to a nearby bench and collapsed onto it, breathing hard. His body had reverted to normal—apparently the rubber state required at least some concentration to maintain during intense activity.
Lucius remained standing, his analytical mind processing everything he'd observed. "You have three main problems. First, your transition speed between states is too slow. Second, you're using your abilities reactively instead of proactively. Third, you're fighting like your gel body is a tool you're using instead of what you actually are."
"That's a lot of problems."
"They're fixable. The transition speed is just drilling. The reactive versus proactive usage is tactical awareness. The third one is a mindset shift."
"So where do we start?"
"Drilling. Get some water, rest for five minutes. Then we're going to do transition exercises until you can switch states without thinking about it."
Odd got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the vending machine near the entrance, taking a long drink. "You know, you're putting a lot of effort into helping someone who might end up fighting you eventually."
"You're fighting for your daughters. That matters."
Odd paused mid-drink, looking at him with something like gratitude. "Thanks for that."
"Don't thank me yet. We still have a lot of work to do."
They sat in silence for a moment. Odd finished his water, Lucius stood with his arms crossed, already planning the next phase of training.
Then Odd spoke quietly. "Why do you fight the way you do?"
Lucius glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
"In your match against Tact. You barely used any abilities at all. Just technique." Odd met his eyes. "You're clearly way stronger than you're showing. So why hide it?"
Lucius was quiet for a moment. "I don't need to. Not yet at least." He turned toward the floor. "Anyway, break's over. Back to the floor."
Odd recognized the deflection for what it was, but didn't push. Some things weren't his business.
They worked for another hour. Lucius called out states—hard, soft, normal, hard, normal, soft—and Odd cycled through them as fast as he could. Over and over until his body was moving on instinct rather than conscious thought.
The improvement was noticeable. By the end of the session, Odd's transition time had been cut nearly in half. He was still thinking about it, but the thinking was getting faster.
"That's enough for today," Lucius said, checking the time. "4:47 PM. Rest tonight. We'll continue tomorrow morning before my fight."
"Tomorrow morning? You sure?"
"I don't need the morning to prepare. You do." Lucius headed toward the exit. "Meet me here at 10 AM. We'll work on tactical applications."
"Alright. And King?"
Lucius stopped, looking back.
"Thanks. For this. I know you've got your own reasons, but... thanks anyway."
Lucius just nodded and left.
---
He spent the next two hours moving through the facility, reestablishing the patrol patterns he'd mapped before the rat extermination. Most of the cameras he'd sabotaged had been repaired—maintenance had been thorough. His reconnaissance network was compromised.
That made direct observation more difficult. More risky.
Morrison was still the best option for gathering intelligence about the executive residential sections. But the casual encounter approach wouldn't work. Too many variables, too much reliance on chance. And with the security systems repaired, any suspicious behavior would be flagged.
He needed a different strategy.
By 7 PM, Lucius was in his quarters, lying on his bed with his eyes closed. Not resting—thinking. Processing patterns and possibilities.
Morrison took his breaks alone. Ate quickly. Avoided his more aggressive colleagues. Showed discomfort during the violent matches. Those weren't weaknesses. They were data points.
The man was uncomfortable here. Uncomfortable with what he was part of. That discomfort created vulnerability, but it also meant he'd be more paranoid about unusual interactions. More likely to report anything suspicious.
So the approach couldn't be suspicious. Couldn't feel targeted. Had to be natural. Organic.
Lucius reviewed what he knew about the facility's layout. The guard break rooms were in a restricted section, accessible only by staff. But there were common areas where guards and fighters overlapped. The medical wing. The main corridors during shift changes. The cafeteria.
The cafeteria had too many people. Too visible.
The medical wing was better. Fighters going for treatment, guards escorting them occasionally. But Dr. Lois was perceptive. She'd already noticed his arm, asked questions he'd deflected. Creating a scenario there would require a convincing injury, and that would raise different questions.
The corridors during shift changes were too chaotic. Too many witnesses.
None of the direct approaches worked without significant risk of exposure.
Which meant he needed an indirect approach. Something that created the right circumstances without appearing manufactured.
Lucius opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.
There was one option. Riskier in some ways, safer in others.
He could create a situation that required Morrison's professional response. Something that put them in proximity without requiring a fabricated social interaction. A scenario where Morrison approaching him would be natural. Expected.
But what kind of situation?
The facility had strict rules about fighter conduct. Violations resulted in penalties or removal. But those same rules created opportunities. If Lucius could engineer a scenario where Morrison was required to intervene professionally...
He thought about Morrison's role. Guard duty. Security response. Rule enforcement.
Then the idea clicked into place.
The camera blind spots. Most had been repaired, but not all. There were still a few areas where coverage was incomplete—transitional zones between sections, older corridors scheduled for upgrade, maintenance access points.
If Lucius was observed entering a restricted area—not aggressively, not suspiciously, but clearly in violation—protocol would require security response. A guard would be dispatched to investigate and redirect.
If he timed it during Morrison's shift, in an area Morrison patrolled...
The interaction would be professional. Required. Morrison approaching him would be expected behavior, not suspicious. And in that interaction, Lucius could assess the man more carefully. Look for the opening he needed.
It wasn't perfect. There were variables he couldn't control. But it was better than hoping for a chance encounter.
He'd need to confirm Morrison's patrol schedule. Identify which restricted areas fell under Morrison's responsibility. Time the violation for maximum probability of Morrison being the responding guard.
That meant more observation. More patience.
Lucius closed his eyes again and began running simulations. Different scenarios. Different timings. Different restricted areas. Calculating probabilities and outcomes.
By the time he finally slept, he had a preliminary plan. Not complete yet. But forming.
---
The next morning came quickly.
Lucius met Odd in the gym at 10 AM sharp. The older man was already there, warming up, moving with noticeably more confidence than the day before.
"Morning," Odd said. "Ready to continue?"
"We're going to work on tactical applications today. Specifically, how to use your abilities against shadow manipulation."
"Reaper's powers."
"Right. He can solidify darkness into physical constructs. Weapons, barriers, platforms. He can also use shadows for enhanced mobility—shadow-stepping between dark areas."
"That sounds extremely versatile."
"It is. But it has limitations. Shadows require light to exist. The constructs have mass, which means they follow physics. And most importantly, his attention gets divided when he creates multiple constructs."
Lucius moved to the center of the floor. "The key to fighting someone with versatile abilities is forcing them to make choices. Make them split their attention. Create situations where their versatility becomes a liability instead of an advantage."
"How do I do that?"
"By being unpredictable. Remember—your opponent will expect you to fight defensively based on what they saw in your last match. So you need to do the opposite sometimes."
"The opposite of defensive?"
"Aggressive. Make him react to you instead of executing his own strategy." Lucius gestured for Odd to take a position. "Let's simulate. I'm going to attack with imaginary shadow constructs. You respond using your abilities. The goal is to make me divide my attention."
They worked through scenario after scenario. Lucius describing shadow attacks from different angles, Odd responding with combinations of hardening, slipping, and counterattacks. Some responses worked. Others got him hypothetically killed.
"Again," Lucius said after Odd made a tactical error. "I've created a shadow barrier between us. You hardened to protect yourself. Now what?"
"Wait for an opening?"
"While I'm creating more constructs to surround you? No. Your hardened state has a time limit. Waiting wastes it." Lucius reset his position. "Try again. Barrier goes up. What do you do?"
Odd thought about it. "Make my hands slippery and climb over the barrier?"
"Better. You're thinking three-dimensionally. Shadow barriers are usually vertical. Most fighters don't expect opponents to go over them." Lucius nodded approval. "Keep that mindset. Your gel gives you mobility options normal fighters don't have. Use them."
They drilled for another hour. By the end, Odd was thinking more creatively, using his abilities in combinations rather than isolation.
"That's enough," Lucius said, checking the time. "12:30. Get some food. Rest before your next session."
"When's the next session?"
"Tomorrow morning. After I deal with Friday."
"Right. Your fight." Odd studied him. "You nervous?"
"No."
"Confident?"
"Prepared."
Odd smiled slightly. "Good luck anyway."
"Luck is for people who don't plan." Lucius headed for the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."
---
Lucius spent the early afternoon finalizing his Morrison plan. He'd identified three potential restricted areas that fell under Morrison's likely patrol zones. He'd confirmed the guard's shift schedule through careful observation of the duty board near the security station.
Morrison would be on duty from 2 PM to 10 PM today. His patrol route included the lower maintenance corridor—one of the older sections with incomplete camera coverage.
That was the target zone.
The timing would be critical. Too early and Morrison might not have reached that section of his route. Too late and shift change would complicate things.
Lucius calculated the optimal window: approximately 6:30 PM. After the afternoon fights concluded, when most of the facility's attention would be on evening recreation or rest. Morrison's patrol should put him in that corridor around that time.
He'd need a plausible reason for being in a restricted area. Something that wouldn't trigger immediate alarm but would require security response.
Lost. He'd claim he was lost. Looking for an alternate route to the cafeteria after the main corridors got too crowded. It was weak, but it didn't need to be bulletproof. It just needed to be non-threatening enough that Morrison would handle it with a verbal warning rather than escalating.
The plan had risks. If a different guard responded, the opportunity would be wasted. If Morrison decided to file an official report, Lucius would have a mark on his record. If the restricted area had sensors he hadn't detected, things could escalate badly.
But the alternative was continuing to wait for a perfect opportunity that might never come.
Lucius decided. He'd execute tonight.
For now, though, he had a fight to think about.
Monster versus Iron Clad Wang would start at 1 PM. He wanted to watch that.
Then his own match at 4 PM against Friday.
The afternoon would be busy.
He made his way to the arena viewing section, arriving about fifteen minutes before the scheduled start. The crowd was building—this match had generated significant interest.
Lucius found his usual spot and settled in. Odd arrived a few minutes later, taking the seat next to him.
"Big crowd today," Odd observed.
"High stakes fights draw attention."
The lights began to dim. The crowd's noise increased.
Jamal's voice boomed through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fight Three of Round Two!"
The arena prepared itself for violence.
And Lucius watched, his mind already calculating the odds, analyzing the fighters, preparing for what was coming.
Not just in the arena.
But later tonight. In a maintenance corridor. Where he'd take the next step toward his actual mission.
Everything was moving forward.
Piece by piece.
----
TO BE CONTINUED