The three woke up at the same time as the alarm blared through the dorms at six in the morning — BEEP, BEEP! They had one hour to brush their teeth, wash, make their beds, and get dressed before reporting to the canteen for breakfast. Attendance was mandatory; anyone skipping the meal faced punishment. As Elena, Billy, and Scarlett entered the canteen, they saw a queue already forming for food. Grabbing trays, they joined the line — only to spot Max and his mates cutting straight to the front. Billy and Scarlett exchanged glances, both watching Elena's face grow red with anger. "Muppets," she muttered under her breath. "Think they own the place!" She went to storm off, but Billy gently caught her arm. "Wait for the tournament — it's right after breakfast," he said calmly. "Let's just eat and go. Maybe we'll even get a bit of training in first." Elena took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she thought of what her father would say. Billy was right. "Alright," she said finally, voice firm. "Let's get through this. But when it comes to the tournament — I'm not holding back." After finishing their meal, the trio got up to leave. As they passed through the canteen, Max stuck his leg out from under a table, tripping Billy. He hit the floor hard, face-first.
"WHACK" Max and his friends burst into laughter. Scarlett hurried to help Billy, but Elena was already moving — fury blazing in her eyes. She grabbed Max by the front of his shirt and, with a brutal swing, sent a haymaker crashing into his face. Smack! Crack! Max reeled backwards into one of his friends as his nose exploded in a spray of blood. Clutching his face, dazed, Max stared at her in disbelief. Elena's voice was cold. "Can't wait, You're all going to get it." The three of them walked away, leaving Max seething. He turned to his friends, voice low and full of venom. "We'll make her pay." What Elena didn't know was that Max's father was a Major in the army — and not the kind with a fair streak. He was known for throwing his weight around and bullying anyone who crossed him. Before the tournament began, Max went running to his father, spinning his tale. "She blamed me, Dad! Her friend fell over and she just attacked me — she's had it in for me from the start. Teach her a lesson, please!" His father eyed his son's battered face — the broken nose, the two black eyes — and gave a dry chuckle. "You looking like that disappoints me boy. you've got one more chance understand?." Max smirked darkly and nodded, proud despite his injuries. "Fine," his father said, turning away. "But if you fail, son, you're mother won't be happy and you know how she gets." As he chuckled walking away. --- Out on the tournament Arena, Billy was showing the girls what he'd learnt in the gym the day before. Elena humoured him, even though her father's training had long since made her capable of more advanced techniques. She could see how much it meant to him. Sergeant John Smith approached, scanning the group as students gathered. "Right," he called out, his voice echoing over the field. "Everyone here?" He did a quick head count. The last to arrive — unsurprisingly — was Max. "I assume you've just come from your father, Max?," Sergeant Smith said pointedly. Max ignored him, hiding behind his mates. The sergeant gave a curt nod. "Very well. You'll go first. Against Elena." A ripple went through the group. Max's eyes burned with resentment as he stepped into the arena. Elena turned to her friends with a small grin. "This is for you guy's," she said, then walked forward to face him. One of Max's friends shouted from the sidelines, sneering, "Where's your dad? Heard he's a deserter! Went AWOL and got his whole team wiped out!" Elena froze, confusion and anger flashing across her face. Sergeant Smith was already moving towards her, voice low. "I'm sorry, Elena. Your father is missing. They found a few of his squadmates — but no sign of him." Elena's knees hit the ground as her fist slammed against the dirt. Her mind spun. Her father — missing? He wouldn't have left. Not without reason. "You said missing, correct?" scarlett asked, as she rushed to Elena's side, eyes fierce. "Yes," the Sergeant replied softly. "Then he's not dead," scarlett said, helping her to her feet. "He's still alive. That's all that matters. Right!." She turned back towards the arena, determination burning in her chest. --- Now, both Elena and Max stood opposite one another, ready to fight. Max charged first, aiming low to sweep her legs. Elena read him easily, lifting her leg and watching him overcommit, spinning on the spot. She stepped forward and kicked him hard from behind, sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt. As laughter erupted from the crowd, she called out, "Thought pigs liked mud baths!" Max snarled and scrambled up, but Elena was already sliding toward him again — a two-footed tackle like something out of football. It sent him flipping through the air. The students cheered, the sound of her name echoing through the field. Max rose again, dazed and furious. He lunged forward, feinting high before slamming a fist into her ribs. Elena stumbled back, feeling a strange extra force behind the hit. Her eyes widened. "He's got the same ability as me…" He came at her again, but this time she stepped back instead of blocking, letting him hit nothing but air. Then, as he overextended, she swung her leg high — energy surging through her body. Mid-kick, the power intensified, the speed tripled, and her boot smashed against Max's face. BANG! He flew across the field, crashing and bouncing against the mud before going still. The crowd went silent. Sergeant Smith sprinted forward with a healer. They knelt beside Max, healing what they could. His eyes fluttered open briefly, then closed again. The sergeant lifted him carefully and carried him to the edge of the field, where Max's father stood fuming behind the line of students. Without a word, Smith handed his unconscious son over and returned to the group. "Next!" he called, his grin returning. "Billy versus Ned!" Billy stepped into the arena, fists clenched. Ned laughed at him. "I'll show you," Billy muttered. He struck first — a clean punch that actually connected. But Ned barely flinched, countering with a heavy blow to Billy's stomach. Billy gasped, winded. Another punch followed, smashing across his face and sending blood flying. He hit the ground but forced himself back up, seeing Ned's leg rise for a kick. This time Billy shifted just in time, ducking low and feeling the air rush past his cheek. The advice about stance and footwork echoed in his mind. As Ned came in for another attack, Billy twisted aside and drove a fist into his opponent's gut. Smack! Ned coughed violently, losing his breath. Billy grinned. He could feel it — his balance, his timing, his focus. When Ned swung again, Billy ducked under, pivoted, and grabbed him around the waist. With a sharp heave, he suplexed him clean over his shoulder. BOOM! Ned hit the ground hard, wheezing in agony, Gasping for air as tears sprang to his eyes. "Well done," Sergeant Smith said approvingly as Billy walked off, chest heaving but proud. --- A few fights later, it was Scarlett's turn — matched against Skinny, the lanky boy who had hit her before. He smirked at her, miming another slap. Scarlett's stomach twisted with fear. Sergeant Smith called out, "Face your fear's head on!" noticing her anxiety. She nodded weakly, repeating the words in her head. Face your fears. Skinny rushed at her, arm raised for another slap. Scarlett flinched, hands raised to shield her face as the hits came one after another. Face your fears, she told herself again and again — until, without thinking, her hand shot out and caught his wrist mid-swing. She blinked in surprise at what she'd done, then seized the moment — slapping him hard across the face. SLAP! SLAP! Over and over, she returned every blow he'd given her. Then, screaming out, she drew her arm back and punched him square in the face. POW! He flipped backward, his arm twisting awkwardly before crashing to the ground in a heap. Scarlett grimaced at the sight of his bent arm. "Ewww," she muttered, brushing her hands together as she walked back to her friends with a triumphant grin. Sergeant Smith stepped forward, voice booming once more. "That concludes the tests! You'll receive your gradings this evening. Report to the classroom at six p.m., after dinner." The students who were still standing cheered — while those bound for the infirmary groaned in defeat.