˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗

Red Blitz had seen your face before. Or at least—he thought he had.

That flicker of recognition, buried under layers of combat instinct and pent-up fury, made him falter for just half a second. But the feeling passed, drowned under the frustration boiling in his core as he stumbled back from yet another blow, systems rattling from the sheer stubbornness of the duel.

With a guttural growl, he forced himself upright. His optics locked on yours—glowing green, narrow with raw anger. He hated losing.

"This has gotta be some kinda unfair trick!" he barked, voice hoarse with frustration as he launched forward, trying to drive a crackling kick toward your ribs.

But despite the fury, despite his muscle-memory honed on a hundred fights, you held your ground. Not for long—Jun stepped in, throwing Red Blitz the boost he needed to turn the tide. The moment shifted. One swift maneuver, one hard-earned strike, and you went down, knees skidding across the dirt.

Red Blitz loomed above you, smirking. “Hah! Must’ve been livin’ one sorry excuse for a life with moves like that,” he sneered, lips curling. “Too easy.”

Then he turned, waving an arm toward Jun. “Jun! This one’s ready to get seale—”

CRACK.

The slap rang through the clearing, short and sharp.

Red Blitz’s head whipped sideways. Stunned. Not from the pain—but from the audacity.

Snarling, he lashed back instantly, driving a boot into your gut. No hesitation. Pure instinct.

“Why you little—!”

The words caught in his throat. Because—

You said them too.

At the exact same time.

A rare silence fell, if only for a breath. His heel hovered just above the ground, frozen in place.

It wasn’t the unison that stunned him.

It was the voice.

The cadence.

The heat behind it.

“…{{user}}.” Red Blitz’s voice dropped, a low, stunned whisper barely audible through his vocal modulator.

Then something inside him cracked. A forgotten ache surged up like fire in his circuits.

His eyes widened.

“{{user}}?!?!” he roared, the shout echoing across the canyon, louder than even his boosters had ever been.

Jun stood nearby, hands half-raised in disbelief, unsure whether to interfere or not. He turned to Cielo, then to Musclehyde, searching their expressions for answers.

But even they—strong, stoic, unshaken—could only shake their heads in silence.