Shirley and Tucker didn't dare breathe.
Panda's hand lifted fully out of her sleeve, slender, steady, deceptively gentle. The purple scarf around her neck fluttered once, but there was no wind.
Shirley didn't blink, Tucker didn't exhale.
For a while, no one moved.
Then Panda whispered:
"Let's begin."
She vanished.
Shirley barely had time to twist his body before a pale hand flashed past his face, her fingernails slicing the air where his throat had been a heartbeat earlier. Tucker swung where she had been, but she had already slipped behind him, tapping his spine with two fingers.
A shockwave jolted through Tucker's body.
"GAH—! She pressure-pointed me?!" he wheezed.
"Move!" Shirley yelled.
He swung his cleaver in a wide arc. Panda stepped backward effortlessly, feet gliding. The scarf snapped outward, metallic in weight, aiming for Shirley's wrist.
He barely blocked it, steel scraping on cloth, Panda smiled faintly.
"Yes," she said, "that's better."
Tucker shook out his numb arm, forcing heat back into his hands. Red-colored pressure rolled off them.
"You're fast," Tucker said, sweat forming at his brow.
"No," Panda answered gently, "you're just slow."
Tucker's jaw clenched, and Shirley's eyes narrowed. The tension coiled tighter, the air sharpened, then they charged her together.
The moment Shirley and Tucker charged, Panda did not brace.
She welcomed them. Her feet slid apart in a fluid stance, one hand tucked in her sleeve, the other hovering lazily in front of her. Her calmness only pissed Tucker off more.
Tucker reached her first, swinging a heavy right hook.
Panda's eyes traced the punch smoothly, she leaned back an inch, just an inch, and Tucker's fist cut through empty air.
Shirley came in from her blind spot, cleaver slicing upward with a clean, practiced motion. Panda bent at the knee, body folding under the blade, the metal passing right over her head.
She tapped Shirley's ankle with her fingertips, His foot almost buckled.
"What the—?!"
"She's playing with us," Tucker snapped.
Panda straightened, expression unmoved.
"Playing? Not really. I'm warming up."
Tucker launched a flurry of punches, each one imbedded with Strength Presence. Panda didn't dodge this time, she redirected his punches. Every strike that came close, she brushed aside with the back of her hand or a twist of her wrist, turning Tucker's strength against him then she guided the blow into the wall beside her, shattering the stone. "She's fast!" Shirley yelled as he swung again.
Panda ducked, rolled forward, and swept Shirley's legs. He caught himself by slamming his cleaver into the ground, stopping the fall at the last possible second.
Panda rose behind him, Shirley sensed it, but he was too slow. Her palm struck between his shoulders.
"DAMN—!!"
He flew forward, skidding across the polished floor.
Tucker jumped in front of her, swinging wildly in a defensive rhythm to protect Shirley as he recovered.
"Back up!" Tucker barked.
"You're not touching him again."
Tucker's eyes widened.
"Oh hell no—"
She twisted his wrist slightly.
"Damn it! She's strong as—"
Shirley slammed into Panda from the side, shoulder-first. The hit forced her to release Tucker, but she didn't stumble, she spun with the motion, letting Shirley overextend.
Her scarf snapped outward, wrapping around Shirley's arm. Before he could react, She yanked.
He crashed toward her, but she pivoted, letting his own momentum throw him into Tucker. They tumbled across the floor together.
"Bro MOVE!" Shirley yelled, shoving Tucker off.
"Not so easy when your on top of me, idiot!"
Panda waited patiently. "Are you done?"
They both froze mid-argument.
"…nah."
"…not even started."
Tucker wiped blood from his lip. "Alright. No more rushing in."
Shirley rolled his shoulders, cleaver spinning once in his hand. "We decide the pace now."
Tucker stayed low, weaving side to side.
Shirley moved in sharp arcs, forcing Panda to track two different patterns.
Panda adjusted, but her calm expression tensed ever so slightly.
Tucker feinted a left hook, Shirley brought the cleaver down full force, Panda caught the blade between her palms.
Both boys froze. "You're kidding," Shirley muttered.
Her hands trembled, just barely.
That was their first sign she wasn't invincible.
Tucker seized the opening, punching for her ribs, Panda used the cleaver as leverage, flipping over Shirley and making Tucker miss.
She landed behind them and swept their legs again, they hit the ground hard.
"That sweep is illegal," Tucker groaned.
"In what sport?" Shirley asked.
"In ANY sport!"
Panda stepped forward, scarf lifting like a serpent ready to strike.
"This is wasting my time," she said.
She dashed forward, this time not redirecting nor parrying, she was going to end it. Shirley swung his cleaver. Panda leaned past it and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him forward and twisting her hip to throw him straight through a nearby door, a pitch-black door.
Shirley realized in a snap what she intended.
"TUCKER!" he shouted.
Tucker lunged, intercepting Panda before she could throw Shirley into the darkness. His fist collided with her ribs, the first clean hit of the fight.
Panda gasped, Shirley used the moment to tear out of her grip and stumble backward.
Panda glared, her expression cracking for the first time, finally. She wiped blood from her lip.
"You boys," she whispered, "are irritating."
She darted for Shirley again, quicker than before, desperate to land the finishing throw.
Tucker grabbed her scarf, and Shirley grabbed her wrist.
They pulled in opposite directions.
Panda twisted like a dancer, escaping one grip, then the other. She kicked Tucker in the stomach, flipping him into the wall, then spun toward Shirley, her palm hit his chest.
He coughed blood, she grabbed him by the throat.
"You," she said softly, "go first."
She shoved him toward the pitch-black doorway,
But Tucker sprang up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"You ain't throwing NOBODY!"
Panda snarled, elbowing him repeatedly, but Tucker held on like a vice.
"SHIRLEY! NOW!"
Shirley, stumbling but standing, gripped his cleaver with both hands and swung—not at Panda, but at the open door behind her.
The cleaver slammed into the doorframe, breaking part of it and destabilizing the wall.
The remaining piece of the doorframe began collapsing.
Panda realized too late.
Shirley and Tucker pushed together, slamming Panda backward—
Straight into the pitch-black room.
The last thing they saw was her purple scarf whipping violently as she fell into the darkness.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Tucker leaned against the wall. "Bro… what the hell was THAT room?"
Shirley wiped his mouth. "Don't know." He inhaled deeply.
"But we're not opening it."
Tucker nodded fast. "Yeah no."
They staggered away from the door, bruised, bleeding, but victorious.
Shirley steadied his grip on the cleaver.
Tucker cracked his neck.
"Come on," Shirley said hoarsely.
"Let's find the others."
And they ran down the hall, leaving the silent, pitch-black room behind them.
But neither of them noticed, the door creaking open.