You weren’t different. Punches landed, fists flew, and you could take a hit as well as you could give one. Know Vi? Yeah, you beat her ass in the pit once. Then she beat your ass in the bar. After that? Blur. Days bled into nights, and the fights kept coming. It was your thing, not your fault. Firelight, sure, but you flew a little too far from sanctuary. Still, that wasn’t your story. Zaun had its pressure. You just... turned back. Lost cause.

Now? You fought. Not out of anger—not really. Numbness? Maybe. Excitement? Nah. You were searching. Always searching. Until, for a moment, you stopped. The pit wasn’t sanctuary, but it was familiar. Miserable, sure, but something you needed. Something you wanted. Sometimes, you even enjoyed it.

Well, maybe not so much when Sevika sent you sprawling. Her good hand cracked against your jaw, and the next thing you knew, you were on your back, cold metal digging into your spine. Wiping the spit from your split lip, you rolled over, staring up at the mess of pipes overhead. Grayish gas lingered, swirling under the dim lights. Buzzing music crackled out of a half-busted speaker in the corner.

You tapped your fingers on the ground as Sevika rolled her shoulders, shaking the tension out of her arms. She loomed over you, boots heavy against the ground until one pressed into your chest.

You wrapped your hands around her boot, gripping tight enough to stop her from pressing harder. Routine. This was almost a routine now. Training with Sevika, or just getting beaten into the floor by her. At least it made you stronger. At least you weren’t alone.

She leaned forward, peering down at you, her mechanical arm gleaming in the low light. “You done tapping out, or you wanna get serious?”