The air in the Underground Blackout Alliance headquarters was thick with the stench of sweat and blood, a cavernous chamber carved from the bones of the earth, its walls slick with moisture and despair. Dim, flickering bulbs hung from rusted chains, casting jagged shadows that danced like specters across the cracked concrete floor. This was my crucible, my purgatory, where I was forged—or broken—under the unrelenting gaze of Fixer.
She was a wraith of a woman, slender and athletic, her tiny frame belying a ferocity that could shatter bone. Her dark hair was pulled back tight, framing a face that was all sharp angles and brooding menace, her eyes like twin voids that swallowed light. Fixer moved with the grace of a predator, her boots scuffing softly against the floor as she circled me, her voice a low, taunting rasp. "Again, Tawnie. You're making a liar out of Kane."
I was on my knees, my chest heaving, each breath a knife in my lungs. My hands pressed into the cold concrete, sticky with my own blood, my knuckles raw and split. The sparring session had been a massacre, Fixer's fists and feet a blur of precision that left me battered and reeling. She'd been schooling me for hours, her strikes methodical, her lessons laced with cruelty. "Your defense is pathetic," she'd said earlier, her heel grazing my temple. "You're a liability until you learn to protect yourself."
Now, she prowled around me, her shadow falling over me like a shroud. I could feel her anticipation, the coiled energy in her limbs as she waited for my next move. My muscles screamed, but I forced myself to my feet, my vision swimming as I tracked her passing my right shoulder. Rage surged through me, a molten tide that drowned my pain. I lunged, my fist arcing toward her jaw.
The crack of impact echoed in the chamber, a fleeting victory as my knuckles connected with her flesh. Fixer stumbled, her head snapping to the side, but she recovered with terrifying speed, her body twisting as her leg whipped around. Her boot caught me square in the mouth, and the world exploded into stars. I hit the ground hard, my hands and knees scraping against the concrete, blood pooling on my tongue, coppery and warm.
Fixer loomed over me, her voice cutting through the haze. "Defense, Tawnie. Always defense. You don't strike until you know their weakness. You're not ready to attack." Her words were a mantra, drilled into me with every bruise she left on my body.
I spat blood onto the floor, my voice raw with frustration. "We've been at this for hours, Fixer! I'm done! I can't keep up with you!" My chest heaved, my words a desperate plea for reprieve.
Her lips curled into a sneer, her eyes glinting with disdain. "The enemy won't care how long you've been fighting, Tawnie. Why should I?" Before I could respond, she was on me, her boot slamming into my ribs with a sickening crunch. Pain seared through me, white-hot and blinding, and I curled into myself, blood dribbling from my lips as I gasped for air.
"Please," I whimpered, crawling away, my nails scraping against the floor. "Stop. Just… stop."
Fixer stalked behind me, her voice a cold whisper. "You want to live? Then fight back. Crawling won't save you." Her boots echoed in the cavern, each step a countdown to my next torment.
I dragged myself to my feet, my body trembling, my vision blurred with tears and blood. Fixer's lips twitched, a rare flicker of approval. "Good girl. Now, again."
I lunged, desperation fueling my attack, but she was ready. Her hand shot out, swatting me aside like an insect. I crashed to the ground, pain radiating through my skull, my limbs heavy and useless. Before I could recover, Fixer was on me, her knees pinning my legs, her hands wrenching my head back. She bent me at the waist, her arm coiling around my throat in a chokehold that squeezed the air from my lungs.
"Find an angle!" she roared, her breath hot against my ear. "Fight, damn you!"
I thrashed, my nails clawing at her arm, but her grip was iron. My vision darkened, the edges fraying like burned paper. "Tap out, Tawnie," she hissed, her voice dripping with menace. "Tap, or I'll kill you."
I wouldn't. I couldn't. My body screamed for surrender, but something deeper—something primal—refused. My struggles weakened, my limbs growing heavy, and just as the world began to fade, a spark ignited within me. A pulse, ancient and fierce, surged through my veins, tearing me back from the brink.
My body ceased against my will and for a moment, I was no longer a part of the world outside myself. I was shrouded in darkness, suspended in nothing – until I heard a voice. It was soft, innocent – mines. She called my name. Each time, disconnecting me from reality and bringing me into another world. A world that I couldn't see in the endless darkness, but one I could feel.
"Tawnie!" She called again, this time appearing to me as a rough image of scattered lights and silhouettes. "This is the beginning of your metamorphosis. The real journey begins now."
With a guttural cry, I surged upward, breaking Fixer's hold. Fixer stumbled back, her eyes widening as I sprang to my feet, my body moving with a speed and strength I didn't recognize. Visions flooded my mind—flashes of battles I'd never fought, techniques I'd never learned. My fists flew, each strike precise, each block instinctive. Fixer raised her arms to defend herself, but I was a storm, relentless and unstoppable.
Blood dripped from my mouth as I advanced, my lips curling into a snarl. I saw her weakness now, the slight hitch in her stance, the flicker of doubt in her eyes. I drove her back, my blows a mirror of the torture she'd inflicted on me. She staggered, her defenses crumbling, and I seized the moment, sweeping her legs from under her. She hit the ground with a thud, her breath escaping in a sharp gasp.
I knelt beside her, my hand pinning her chin to the mat. Her eyes, once so cold, now flickered with fear. I turned her head from side to side, studying her face as if seeing it for the first time. Memories stirred, distant and unfamiliar, of a woman I'd met in the sun-scorched plains of Africa. "Karylina," I said, my voice low, almost a growl. "Something about your face… it reminds me of her. Care to explain?"
Fixer struggled beneath me, her body tensing, but my strength was unearthly, unyielding. She couldn't break free. I leaned closer, my breath hot against her cheek. "You're not mentioned in the ancient texts, Fixer. That makes me… uncomfortable." My eyes bored into hers, searching for answers she refused to give. "You might want to rethink staying silent. It's not working in your favor."
The chamber was silent save for her ragged breaths, the weight of my words hanging between us like a blade. The power coursing through me was no longer a spark—it was a inferno, and I was its vessel, reborn in blood and shadow. Fixer's secrets would not stay buried for long.