First strike p

The Pit was alive with chaos, a writhing, roaring mass of bodies packed into every corner of the grimy underground arena. The lower tiers of society came here to forget their misery, betting what little they had on brutal fights staged for their entertainment. But to Mira, The Pit wasn’t a place for escape—it was a battlefield, the first step in a long plan to topple the elites that had crushed the people of Sector 7 under their heels.

She kept her head low, her hood casting shadows over her face as she stepped toward the makeshift ring. The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, hyping up the crowd.

“Another night, another chance to watch the blood flow! And tonight, we’ve got a fresh face stepping into the ring—straight from the gutters! Who will challenge this unknown brawler?”

Mira clenched her fists, flexing her fingers to keep her blood pumping. She couldn’t afford to let her nerves show. This was her first match, and she needed to make a statement. Not just for herself, but for the people who had been silenced for too long.

Ren and Kara stood in the shadows near the back, their faces tense.

“This is insane,” Kara muttered, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “She’s risking everything.”

“She’s Mira,” Ren replied, his voice laced with a mixture of admiration and exasperation. “Risking everything is kind of her thing.”

The announcer’s voice cut through the crowd’s din. “And here we go, folks! Our mystery fighter will be facing off against Gorn, the Bonebreaker!”

A massive man lumbered into the ring, his body scarred and muscled like a war machine. His knuckles were wrapped in bloodstained tape, and his grin was as predatory as a wolf’s. The crowd erupted into cheers and jeers as he raised his fists.

Mira stepped into the ring, her movements calculated and smooth. The announcer leaned toward her, microphone in hand. “What’s your name, fighter?”

She tilted her head, her voice low and steady. “Call me Shade.”

The crowd murmured, intrigued by the cryptic answer, but the announcer simply grinned. “Shade, huh? Let’s see if you can live up to it.”

The bell rang.

Gorn wasted no time, charging at Mira like a freight train. His massive fists swung in a wide arc, aiming to crush her in one blow. Mira ducked low, the wind of his punch rushing over her head as she rolled to the side.

She came up on her feet, pivoting sharply to deliver a quick jab to his ribs. Her fist connected, but it felt like hitting a brick wall. Gorn barely flinched, turning with surprising speed to swing again.

This time, Mira stepped back, narrowly avoiding his fist as it slammed into the ground. The crowd roared, already sensing the mismatch in size and power.

“Stay light, stay sharp,” Mira told herself, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Gorn grinned, his teeth glinting under the flickering lights. “You’re quick, little one. But quick doesn’t win fights. Power does.”

He lunged again, this time feinting with his right before throwing a left hook. Mira anticipated the move, ducking under his swing and stepping into his guard. She drove her elbow into his jaw, the impact sending a shockwave through her arm.

Gorn staggered, a look of surprise flashing across his face.

The crowd gasped.

“She’s got this,” Ren whispered, his eyes glued to the fight.

“Don’t jinx it,” Kara snapped, her fingers gripping the railing.

Gorn recovered quickly, roaring in anger as he swung both fists down like hammers. Mira danced back, her movements fluid and precise. She darted in again, this time targeting his knees with a low kick that made him grunt in pain.

But Gorn was relentless. He grabbed at her, his massive hands just brushing her cloak as she twisted away.

“Stand still, you little—”

Mira didn’t let him finish. She spun on her heel, her fist smashing into his nose with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed, and Gorn stumbled, his balance faltering.

The crowd was on its feet now, screaming in disbelief.

“Finish him!” someone shouted.

Mira hesitated for a split second, her instincts clashing with her purpose. She wasn’t here to kill—she was here to send a message.

Gorn snarled, wiping blood from his face. “You think you’ve won?”

He charged again, slower this time, his movements more desperate. Mira waited, her body coiled like a spring. When he was close enough, she unleashed a brutal uppercut that caught him under the chin. His head snapped back, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The arena fell silent for a moment, and then the crowd exploded into cheers.

The announcer rushed into the ring, his face a mixture of shock and excitement. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner! Shade!”

Mira stepped back, her hood still shadowing her face. She raised one fist briefly, acknowledging the crowd, before slipping out of the ring.

Ren and Kara met her in the shadows, their expressions unreadable.

“You made it,” Ren said, his voice filled with relief.

“This is just the beginning,” Mira replied, her tone firm. “The elites built this place to break us. I’m going to use it to tear them down, one fight at a time.”

As they slipped out of The Pit, Mira allowed herself a small, grim smile. The first strike had been made, and the elite wouldn’t see her coming until it was too late.