Broken Souls

3. Cracks in the Facade

The loud clang of the bell rang out, echoing through the underground fight club known as The Pit. The sound sliced through the thick cloud of cigarette smoke and the low buzz of the crowd, instantly drawing everyone's attention to the ring. Manik, known here only as Blaze—a name that hid his real identity—stepped into the ring with a focused intensity. As soon as he entered, the stifling heat hit him like a wave, along with the strong smell of sweat and the lingering scent of dried blood.

The arena, a large industrial warehouse turned into a brutal battleground, was dimly lit by harsh, flickering lights. These bulbs cast eerie, shifting shadows on the cold concrete floor, making the space feel even more unsettling. The walls, darkened by stains from countless fights, seemed to close in on the fighters, amplifying the tension in the air. The crowd, a mass of tough-looking faces and eager eyes, pressed tightly against the shaky barriers. Their loud cheers and shouts blended together, rising and falling like a single, restless creature that fed off the violence.

The spotlight moved slowly across the room, creating an eerie atmosphere as it illuminated the fighters. It settled on Reiner, his opponent, a massive figure whose size alone made him intimidating.

Reiner's muscular build was barely hidden by his sweat-drenched tank top, which clung to his broad chest and powerful arms. His face was set in a harsh, determined expression that left no doubt about the trouble he intended to cause. His eyes were cold, calculating, and focused intently on Blaze, as if he were a predator sizing up his prey. Manik could feel Reiner's stare, a piercing gaze that seemed to push against his chest, making it harder to breathe. The pressure from Reiner's intense focus only increased the anxiety that simmered beneath Manik's calm exterior, threatening to break through at any moment.

The bell rang loudly once more, marking the beginning of the match. Manik moved smoothly and confidently, shifting his body into the fighting stance he had worked hard to perfect over many years of training. He kept his body low, with his knees slightly bent and his weight spread evenly across both feet. This position allowed him to respond quickly and effectively to any move Reiner might make.

Manik began to circle around Reiner, taking light and careful steps that showed off his speed and long experience in the ring. To test Reiner's reactions, Manik pretended to throw a quick punch, his gloved fist cutting sharply through the air. Reiner's eyes followed the fake punch instantly, and his muscles tightened up as he got ready to defend against what he thought was a real attack.

Blaze moved forward with determination, throwing a quick left hook. The punch landed with a sharp crack against Reiner's forearm, the impact echoing through Blaze's arm and sending a sharp jolt of pain all the way up to his shoulder. Reiner let out a low grunt, but he stayed on his feet, his block strong and unyielding. Blaze didn't hesitate; he immediately followed up with a right cross, this time aiming directly for Reiner's jaw. The punch connected with a satisfying thud, but Reiner's head barely moved. His solid, sturdy build seemed to absorb the hit with ease, barely showing any sign of the powerful blow Blaze had just delivered.

Reiner threw a powerful right hook, using all the strength in his large body. Blaze noticed the punch coming and quickly ducked, feeling the rush of air as the punch barely missed his head, brushing against his hair. With a smooth pivot on his foot, Blaze moved as if he were performing a well-practiced dance, his body flowing effortlessly.

Without wasting any time, Blaze struck back with a quick, precise low kick aimed at Reiner's shins. The kick landed with a sharp impact, causing Reiner to lose his balance for a moment, a grunt of pain slipping from his mouth. Blaze moved with incredible speed, his footwork almost too fast to follow, darting in and out of Reiner's reach. His movements were a blend of fierce aggression and graceful agility, like a deadly dance on the battlefield.