The news Barnaby had brought sank deep into Youri and refused to let go. Volar. Liam. Emma. The thought of losing them — of losing the whole planet — clung to him like a shadow. But tonight was not a night he could afford to come apart. Too many people had put their faith, their money and their expectations on him. Backing out now was not an option. Not on Laspeas. Not in this world. So he swallowed it down.
He and Leo went down into the tunnels beneath the city, where the air grew colder and heavier with every step. The noise of the crowd seeped through the concrete in muffled roars and metallic echoes — the hum of a beast waiting to be fed. Toney was at the betting stand, surrounded by stacks of chips and screens flashing numbers. The moment he spotted them, his eyes went wide. "Hey! You two! Wait up — I need to talk to you about something!"
They exchanged a glance, but they kept walking and pushed through the metal door into the locker room, where the noise dulled and the familiar smell of sweat, antiseptic and iron closed around them. Youri sat down at his locker and began wrapping his hands in silence, with precise and mechanical movements. The ritual usually calmed him. Tonight it barely helped.
The door swung open, and Toney rushed in, out of breath. "Hey, Kronos," he said, lowering his voice. "Why didn't you tell me you had ties to the Terrian military?"
Youri stopped in the middle of a wrap and looked up sharply. "What are you talking about?"
Toney jerked a thumb toward the door. "That man out there, sitting in the stands by the octagon. That's a high-ranking Terrian uniform, kid. And he just put a bet on you."
Youri stood abruptly and pushed past him. His eyes went straight to the stands. Barnaby. Calm, composed, watching. Anger flared in him at once. He slammed his locker shut with a violent clang and stormed up into the stands, the crowd barely noticing as he marched up and stopped right in front of him.
"Who told you about this place?" he demanded.
Barnaby looked up at him, completely unbothered, with a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The streets are talking. A big night like this? It isn't hard to follow the noise once you know where to listen."
Youri clenched his jaw. "Enjoy the show," he said coldly, and turned his back.
"One more thing," Barnaby said behind him, and Youri stopped. "Do you remember the last offer I made you? The day I left you at the docks?"
Youri turned slowly.
"It still stands," Barnaby said. "And it might be your ticket to where you really want to go."
Youri said nothing. He turned and walked away and disappeared down the tunnel, leaving Barnaby sitting there watching him go.
A few minutes later, the lights around the octagon dimmed a little as Toney stepped into the cage and raised his hands. "Gentlemen, tonight is a special night!" The crowd roared. "Tonight we have a rematch between two of the most promising fighters this arena has ever seen. The last time they met, it was brutal. Honest. Unforgettable. So what will it be this time? Make some noise for Zeus the Brawler!"
The hall exploded as Zeus came out of the tunnel with his shoulders squared and his chin high, soaking in the cheers. He climbed into the cage and took his corner with his eyes already fixed on the far side.
"And his opponent — on a seven-fight winning streak — make some noise for Youri Kronos!"
The response was instant and deafening. The cheers drowned out everything as Youri came into view and walked steadily toward the cage with heavy, deliberate steps. He was the clear favorite now. But something was different. His eyes didn't shine the way they used to. They were darker. Distant. Focused, but burdened. As he climbed into the octagon, the whole weight of the night pressed down on him at once — the crowd and the bets, Barnaby's words, Volar. It all collided inside his chest. But it was too late to turn back now.
The bell rang.
They stepped forward at the same moment and circled the center of the cage, the lights throwing hard shadows across them and sweat already gleaming on their skin, though neither had thrown a strike. There was history between them, unfinished business. They both felt it.
Zeus moved first with a probing jab, fast and heavy, testing the distance. Youri slipped aside on instinct, let it graze past his cheek and answered with a low kick to Zeus's lead leg that echoed through the cage. Zeus barely reacted, but his eyes sharpened. They traded again — jab, cross, hook, forearms colliding. Zeus pressed forward relentlessly, cutting off the cage and forcing Youri backward. Normally Youri thrived there, dancing along the edge and reading patterns. Tonight his timing was half a beat off, and Zeus noticed.
He feinted high and drove a brutal shot into Youri's ribs with a dull and sickening sound. Youri sucked in air through the white-hot pain, but he stayed upright and answered with an elbow that clipped Zeus's temple. The crowd erupted. Zeus grinned. They locked together in a clinch with their foreheads pressed close, both breathing hard, while Zeus ground short knees into Youri's thigh and stomach and stole his breath and his balance. Youri tried to turn him and couldn't; Zeus's strength was raw, stubborn, immovable. Then Zeus shoved him away and threw a looping right. Youri got his guard up just in time and was driven back into the fence under a flurry of hooks and uppercuts that forced him to cover up. At the edge of the cage, Leo was shouting instructions, but the noise swallowed every word.
Youri ducked under a wild hook and slipped out along the fence and fired a straight that snapped Zeus's head back. For a moment the old fire flickered. He surged forward with his combinations flowing — left, right, low kick, a spinning backfist that just missed Zeus's jaw — and the crowd believed again. Zeus staggered, then planted his feet.
And then he swung. A crushing overhand right tore through Youri's guard and landed clean. Youri's vision burst into sparks as he stumbled and caught himself on the fence. Zeus was on him at once, pinning him there and hammering body shots that shook bone and muscle alike. Youri dropped to one knee. The referee stepped closer, but he forced himself back up with his teeth clenched and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Leo leaned in through the cage, his eyes wide with worry. "You're not yourself," he said urgently. "You're fighting ghosts out there."
Youri didn't answer. His thoughts were far away — Volar, Barnaby, the silent countdown ticking somewhere beyond the cage. Across the octagon, Zeus stood calmly, barely winded, watching him like a predator that knew the hunt was nearly over.
Zeus came at him even more aggressively, shooting in low and driving him to the mat with a powerful takedown that knocked the breath from his lungs. Then he settled on top with his crushing weight. Youri tried to scramble out from under him, but Zeus stayed glued to him and rained down short, punishing punches, each one blurring Youri's vision a little more. He managed to roll and trap Zeus briefly in half guard, but another elbow slipped through and split his eyebrow. Blood dripped onto the mat, and the roar of the crowd turned anxious.
Youri dragged himself up by the fence on shaking legs. Zeus backed off half a step, then charged and drove a knee straight into his stomach. Youri folded and dropped his guard on instinct. That was the opening. Zeus threw a brutal left hook and a right straight that snapped Youri's head sideways. Youri went down with his hands scrabbling at the mat for a grip that wasn't there. The referee hovered, ready to stop it. Youri pushed himself up one last time on sheer will and swung wildly, with desperation where his precision should have been. Zeus blocked it easily and answered with a clean, merciless combination — hook, uppercut, cross. Youri went down hard.
This time, he didn't get up.
The referee stepped in, waving his arms and pulling Zeus back as the bell rang out, final and decisive. "It's over!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and stunned silence together. Toney's voice boomed through the hall. "Your winner, by knockout — Zeus!"
Zeus raised his arms with his chest heaving and victory written in every line of his face. Then he looked down at Youri for a long moment and nodded once, a respect heavy and unspoken. The medics rushed in. Leo was already kneeling beside Youri and calling his name. Youri's eyes fluttered open briefly, unfocused, and closed again.
Up in the stands, Barnaby watched quietly with his hands clasped and his face unreadable.
Tonight, Kronos had fallen