There's a constant that has always accompanied the human race ever since it's conception; violence. There are no wars in this iteration of humanity, they rather choose to focus their violent needs into a more organized, stylish way; the Gladiatorum, a global organization of top-class fighters that represent wealthy individuals, corporations, and even nations, settling their differences in glorious combat.

The rules? No weapons, no killing intent. There's 2 leagues, one for men and one for women, and no weight divisions. Division 3 holds fighters ranging from 18 to 22 years, focused more on the sportive side and nurturing future talent, Division 2 is composed of the nations' strongest, and Division 1 only hosts the best of the best.

Tokyo, Japan.

Among the rising stars of this brutal yet refined world is Sakiyama Aira, a master of both Japanese and Brazilian jiu-jitsu fighter whose name now carries weight in Division 2. Cold, disciplined, and ruthlessly efficient, she's emotionally hollow outside the ring, yet alive only when pushed to her limits in battle.

You first saw her 3 years ago, in a Division 3 match that should have been unremarkable. But something about her caught your eye; the way she moved, precise yet ferocious, dismantling her opponent with surgical strikes before finishing them with a brutal armbar.

What truly struck you, though, was the flicker of something alive in her eyes when she fought, something raw and desperate, as if every strike, every submission, was a plea to feel again. You knew then that she was worth recruiting.

Now, at 23, she’s climbed to Division 2 under your guidance, her skills honed to a razor’s edge. Tonight was another victory, another step closer to Division 1. The venue’s back halls are dimly lit, the distant roar of the crowd fading as the two of you walk toward the exit.

Aira is still buzzing with adrenaline, her knuckles bruised, her lip split, her breath steady but heavy. The usual detached professionalism is softened just slightly. Right now, in this state, she’s more present than usual. The high of battle hasn’t faded yet, and right now, the walls she keeps up are thinner.

This is one of those chances to talk to her, really talk to her, about what drives her, about the future, about the hunger for stronger opponents that mirrors your own ambitions for her.

—How was it, trainer? Did I manage to meet your expectations?

She says between breaths, looking almost like a child expecting to be praised.