Chapter 10 — "Round One"

📕👉 Read Chapter 9 Here

“AAAAAHHHH!!!!”

Junior's screams ricocheted off the walls of the ink studio. The walls shook so hard with the force of his cries that the neon signs rattled against their mounts.

They had just begun, but both his father and Junior were already drenched in sweat. The pain was unbearable, and although Junior did his best to stay still, his father had to push energy into his left hand to hold Junior's leg down. Junior's fingers dug into the leather chair, puncturing it, while his other leg vibrated and smoked. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision.  

“You’re doing great, son.”

Junior’s father was working as fast as possible, sweat dripping down his face. He used the Ink Artist machine to siphon Junior's karma and infuse it with the gold-tinted ink, creating the sigil that might save his son. He paused for a moment to dip the machine into more ink, then returned to the mangled leg, focusing on forming the intricate sigil.

“ACH!” Junior spat, shaking his head back and forth as the needle passed over a bone that had become misaligned.

It felt like hundreds of knives stabbing him, or like his bones were crashing down on his leg over and over again.

Each second felt like an hour as Conrad continued working on his son’s injured leg. When he reached a spot already covered by a sigil, the karma power sent a shockwave through Junior’s body. Smoke engulfed his leg each time Conrad passed over the old sigils.

The new sigil was not small. Even if Junior weren’t in this much pain, or if it weren’t covering his old sigils, the amount of karma required for this task would still have made him queasy. Now, every sharp breath he took before another scream felt like it might trigger vomiting. A particularly painful spot on his leg caused Junior to push back hard into the chair, panting.  

“Dad… I don’t think I can…” Junior looked at his father, the fear cooling the fire that had been swirling inside him.

A huge Payback creature, resembling a smoldering ember in a fire with flaming ears, loomed behind his father. Junior had seen Paybacks before during sigil sessions. The first time with Marty, they had gone slow, stopping whenever little flames began to appear. The worst was at the end when Marty was doing the detail work, and a Payback creature had suddenly emerged, burning the Ink Artist badly on his leg. Junior had to pay extra for that.

Nothing could have prepared him for the size of the monster behind his father. Its eyes were like tiny stars collapsing in on themselves, its claws raised and poised to bring vengeance down on his father.

“D… Dad,” Junior stuttered.

“I know. Just keep focusing on me,” his dad’s voice was steady, strong, and unwavering, even though he knew what was behind him, even though he knew the pain he was about to endure was because of his son's mistakes.

Conrad pushed energy into his sigils, protecting himself.

Junior couldn’t look away as the creature reared back, its claws glinting in the neon purple light, before slamming down hard on his father’s back. His father barely flinched and continued working.

Junior grew still, but the creature stared at him with piercing flame eyes, raising its arm again and again to slash down hard on his father. Each blow landed with a sickening weight, yet his father’s hands never wavered. The pain overtook Junior’s fear. He threw his head back, crying out. The creature roared with him, continuing its torment of his father, who sat there, enduring the agony and working with unyielding focus on his sigils.

Junior closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere else—wishing he had never wanted to be an Ink Fighter in the first place. Reality felt like it was slipping away. Pain overwhelmed him. Smoke filled his nose, and the sounds of his own screams merged with the slashing of the Payback monster. He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that he feared he might never open them again.  

“Remember your breathing.” His father’s urgent whisper cut through the chaos.

Junior opened his eyes and saw that the room’s colors had shifted. A light blue aura filled the space, soft but distinct against the harsh neon. His vision adjusted, and he looked at his father, whose sigils were glowing, floating around him like protective armor.

“Fight through the pain, Junior. It is what makes us better.”

Junior gritted his teeth. The monster roared, and the stabbing pain surged through him, as though his leg were being severed.

“I can’t!” Junior cried, throwing his head back in despair.

“You have to! FIGHT!” his dad yelled, his voice carrying a force that cut through the pain. The Payback monster grew more agitated, its embers falling like fiery tears and sparking small fires on the floor.

“URGH!” Junior resisted crying out, struggling to focus past the pain. He reached for something deeper—the sensation he’d felt in the hospital room. It wasn’t just the rage of his sigils, but something deeper.

It was just below the surface, but he was afraid—afraid to let his anger go, because it was what had motivated him all along.

“You are more than your sigils! You are more than your fear!”

Junior couldn’t tell if it was his father’s voice or something deep within himself, but he listened. He pushed past the pain, beyond the anger he held at himself, and reached into the core of his karma—into the core of who he was. He was a fighter, and this was just another fight he had to win.

The room seemed to explode around him—a maelstrom of pain, numbness, and a fleeting sense of triumph. The Payback creature’s scream was swallowed by the surge of emotion and determination that radiated through him.

When Junior opened his eyes, it was over. He was barely conscious, his body trembling from the ordeal, but they had done it—just barely. His father was leaning heavily over the chair, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The Payback creature was gone, its work for the great machine complete, its vengeance exacted.

“Dad…” Junior croaked, his fingers inching toward his father. His father reached up and took his hand. They sat there in silence, father and son, illuminated by the soft glow of the blue neon light.

-----

It took two days for the sigil to fully heal. His father was treated in the hotel’s hospital ward for the wounds on his back. Though unharmed overall, he seemed more shaken than Junior had ever seen him.

During those two days, Junior remained confined to bed, watching his leg recover and strategizing with his father on how to survive against Gorilla.

“You might think it’s more important to watch her fists, since that’s what’s coming at you,” his dad explained one afternoon, his tone calm but deliberate. “But don’t forget about her feet. Those massive shoulders and fists make her top-heavy, so keep an eye on her balance. When she’s off-balance, that’s your moment.”

Junior nodded, hanging on every word. “I’ll make sure to stay out of her way. She’ll probably try to land a final blow from above with her signature move, so I’ll try to keep her on the ground while still staying away from her.”

His father smiled proudly at him. Junior felt empowered by his dad’s advice. How could he lose after everything they had been through?

-----

The morning of the fight, Junior finally had the chance to test his new sigil. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. His right leg, still mangled, was now covered by a large black sigil that replaced his once colorful tattoos.

“Push some energy into that sigil, or you’ll fall right back down,” his father instructed, watching closely. “It’s a bracing and healing sigil, so you’ll feel stronger in that leg. But remember, it’s still damaged. Take it easy—no kicking or putting too much pressure on it. Body sigils aren’t like elemental ones. They’re fueled by concentration, not emotions.”

“Right.” Junior nodded, taking a deep breath.  He shifted his weight onto his left foot and focused on his right leg. At first, pain shot through it, but he pushed past it, visualizing his skin hardening and his bones becoming as strong as iron. A numbing sensation spread through his leg as he tentatively set it down. To his amazement, there was no pain.

“HA!” He laughed, relief flooding him as he felt like himself again. Maintaining his focus, he shifted more weight onto his right leg. Despite its battered appearance, it felt solid—unyielding, like iron.

Tentatively, Junior took a small hop. Still, no pain. His face lit up, and he turned to his father, grinning. The rest of the day was spent practicing—concentrating to keep the sigil activated while walking, running, and even throwing a few kicks into the training bag.

He had to pause frequently to refill his karma using syringes, and every time he did, the pain returned worse than ever. It gnawed at the back of his mind, a stark reminder that his leg was far from healed. He wondered if he would ever fully recover—if he even survived the battle.

Still, the sigil gave him a renewed sense of hope. Confidence burned through him, stoking an old flame deep inside.

“I bet I could beat Gorilla if I really tried. That would teach Mr. Green to mess with me.” He threw another kick into the bag, balancing solidly on his right leg. As he trained, he started to master the tricky balance of focusing on the bracing sigil while simultaneously activating his fiery elemental sigils with raw emotion.

Junior began to forget the danger ahead, lost in the rush of possibility—something that didn’t escape his father’s notice.

-----

Mr. Green’s men were waiting just outside the training room doors, ready to escort Junior to the ring. For the past hour, Junior had heard the audience beginning to arrive, the roar of their chatter growing louder with each passing minute. Excitement stirred in his chest, his competitive nature clawing to break free.

“Conrad.” His father’s voice stopped him before he reached the door. He turned to see his father’s serious expression.

“Remember what I said: Just try to survive—nothing fancy.”

“Yeah, Dad. I got it.” Junior gave a quick nod, but as he turned to leave, his father grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Come back safe.”

Junior softened against his father. “I will. Thank you for teaching me, Dad. I’ll never forget it.”

Junior left the training room, looking back and giving his father a thumbs-up. His father raised his fist, giving him a champion's smile.

-----

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE MOMENT YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! THE UP-AND-COMING SENSATIONAL NEWCOMER AGAINST THE FEROCIOUS CHAMPION!! IT’S TIME FOR THE ULTIMATE BATTLE OF INK FIGHTING SKILLS!”

The arena was packed, with every seat taken and even the aisles crammed with eager spectators. Bookies prowled through the throng, taking last-minute bets as tension filled the air. Through the curtain, Junior could see Mr. Green and his mother seated prominently in the front row—no VIP box for them tonight. His stomach twisted when he spotted his dad squeezing through the crowd to sit beside her. At first, his mother ignored him, but then his father leaned in, whispering something. She turned to him with a worried expression, her eyes darting toward the ring.

Junior pushed the curtain closed. He couldn’t let himself be distracted tonight. If he was going to survive, he needed to focus completely.

“Just take it one round at a time,” he told himself.

The announcer’s booming voice carried on, hyping the crowd even further. The cheers and screams from the packed arena were deafening, even through the heavy curtain.

“TONIGHT THERE WILL BE THREE ROUNDS, NO HOLDS BARRED! WINNER TAKES ALL AND BECOMES THE CHAMPION OF THE INK FIGHTERS LEAGUE! TWO ENTER, BUT ONLY ONE WILL LEAVE VICTORIOUS!”

Smoke began to fill the air behind the curtain. Junior inhaled deeply, calming his breathing. It was time.

“THERE’S NO NEED TO INTRODUCE THIS COMPETITOR, BUT WE WILL ANYWAY! YOU KNOW HER, YOU LOVE HER! THE ONE, THE ONLY CHAMPION OF THE HHH! IT’S GGGGGGORRRRRRIIIIILLLAAAAAA!!!”

Junior heard her land in the cage, the ground trembling slightly from her weight. Her trademark howl rang out, sharp and primal, sending the crowd into a frenzy. Junior focused on steadying his nerves, forcing himself not to think about running. He could do this. He had to do this.

“FROM A YOUNG SPARK, THIS COMPETITOR HAS BECOME A MIGHTY FLAME! WILL HE HONOR HIS FATHER TONIGHT AND BECOME CHAMPION? READY TO EXPLODE, IT’S FIRRRRRREEEEEFLYYYYYYY!”

Junior emerged from behind the curtain for what felt like the last time, enveloped in a dazzling display of pyrotechnics. He didn’t wave to the crowd or play to their cheers. He didn’t even glance at Mr. Green. His focus was fixed on the cage, its karmastry-infused lights casting an eerie glow over the arena. This was it. He had finally made it.

He limped up the stairs and into the center of the ring. Gorilla’s eyes never left his leg; she was locked onto his weakness, like a dog with a bone. He smirked inwardly. She didn’t know he had a secret weapon.

The showgirls were dancing, waving at the crowd, while Gorilla showboated, circling the ring and howling at her fans. Finally, she stepped into the center of the ring, where Firefly was waiting.

“Touch fists, please,” the ref instructed.

Gorilla leaned in close, her snarling face inches from his.

“You’re dead, kid,” she hissed through sharp teeth.

Junior smiled, and for a split second, her tough demeanor faltered. Her grin wavered, just for an instant, enough to throw her off. She quickly recovered, slamming her fists down hard onto his before bounding back to her side of the cage, throwing her arms up to rile the already frenzied crowd.

Junior limped back to his corner, careful not to activate his sigil too early, saving it for the perfect moment. If he could catch her off guard, maybe—just maybe—he could knock her out and end the fight before it even began.

“Don’t lose your head,” Firefly muttered to himself, leaning against the cage as pain shot through his leg. “Wait for your moment, then strike.”

They stood like two cowboys in an old western, locked in a silent standoff, waiting for the duel to begin. To Firefly, the arena around him seemed to fade. The crowd, the noise, the lights—it all fell away. All he could hear was the energy inside himself, simmering, waiting to ignite.

If I’m going down, it’ll be in a blaze of glory.

-----

DING!

Gorilla took two huge steps forward, already sending karma into her sigils as she leaped into the air. Her speed was incredible, but Firefly was faster. He primed energy into his damaged right leg. She was closing in now, her dilated eyes locked onto his weak side, ready to finish him off quickly.  He couldn’t help but smile.

Sidestepping, he put his weight on his right leg. With his new sigil activated, it held firm. Pivoting his hips, he spun out of her way, letting her slam into the cage. Her head whipped back as her face connected with the metal.

Standing on his broken leg, Firefly kept his momentum going, shooting a blast after her with the fire sigils on his left leg, aiming for her head.

He was too slow—still adjusting to using both sigils—and she detached herself from the cage wall just before his fireball struck the spot where her head had been moments earlier. Her eyes were wild with rage. What she had thought would be simple prey had turned out to be far more capable than she’d anticipated. She glanced at Mr. Green, whose face was red with frustration. He motioned for her to keep the fight going.

Firefly smirked. Maybe he had a chance after all. Adrenaline coursed through him, and the roar of the crowd thundered from all sides. If it weren’t for the dire situation, he might have been tempted to play to the audience—something that would really throw Mr. Green off.

But that would have to wait. Gorilla had recovered and was ready to attack again. Firefly was already on the move, darting across the cage, staying just out of her reach. With each passing minute, she grew more agitated, throwing herself wildly from one side of the cage to the other.

“Climb the cage!” Mr. Green shouted, pounding the metal frame with his cane.

Gorilla tried to obey, but Firefly was always a step ahead. Every time she began to climb, he pelted her back with small bursts of fire, forcing her to drop to the ground in a howling fury.

With each moment, she became more unhinged, her hair wild and static, her movements like a caged animal, desperate to close the distance.

At specific moments, she would jump, slamming her fists onto the arena floor in an attempt to throw Firefly off balance. But he leaned back, gripping the cage for stability, making sure to stay upright.

If I fall, I’m done for, Firefly reminded himself as she swirled closer again, windmilling her massive arms to block his path.

Ducking and weaving, he narrowly avoided one of her fists as he launched into a roll, popping back up on the other side of the cage.

The excitement in the arena only grew. Firefly was sweating with effort, struggling to maintain focus while using his fire. His fireballs were weak, barely enough to keep her at bay, but she hesitated each time, unsure if his faltering flames were just another trick.

Finally, she had enough. With a furious snarl, she barreled toward him, ignoring the pain of his fireballs. The sharp smell of burning skin and hair filled the air. Firefly pushed more energy into his right foot, preparing to spring away just as she closed the distance, hoping for an opening to knock her out.

DING DING!

The round was over. Gorilla stopped in her tracks, panting heavily, sweat and drool dripping onto the mat. Slowly, she straightened, glaring daggers at Firefly. She didn’t bother attempting a smile this time. Her body was stiff as she turned and stomped back to her corner.

Firefly exhaled shakily. He had survived the first round… just barely.