The last few days before the fight were pure hell for Lyra, enduring grueling training sessions her body wasn't used to.
But she could feel the difference. Her reflexes, strength, and speed were sharper than ever.
Her attacks, once wild and uncontrolled, now had purpose. Lyra fought with a plan, a vision of how she wanted her opponent to react.
She let out a slow sigh, feeling the bandages tighten around her fists and forearms as Darius wrapped them.
'I'm really going to do this…' Lyra thought, her gaze steady as she controlled her breathing.
Now it was just a matter of time, tucked away in one of the waiting rooms, anticipating the call of her name.
Once Darius finished wrapping her hands, he handed her a pair of MMA gloves designed for ferals.
They fit like a second skin, their blue and black colors giving Lyra an unexpected sense of calm, feeling lighter than the bulky practice gloves.
"If he gets too close, throw an elbow…" Darius began, sitting across from her. "Your opponent will worry about that strike, so he'll keep his distance. That's when you wait for the right moment to land a kick, got it?"
Lyra nodded silently, Darius's seriousness reminding her once again that she hadn't come this far empty-handed.
She was no longer a street rat, scrapping to survive day by day, running and hiding.
This was her chance to prove—to herself and to others—that she could fight, could stand up to everyone who'd ever tried to hurt her.
Lyra stood, catching her reflection in the small mirror in the waiting room, the stale stench of sweat and dried blood painfully obvious to her feral senses.
Doubt gnawed at her, but she was still ready to go all the way.
Winning or losing didn't matter anymore. Just being there, not running away, meant everything to her.
Lyra felt ready to give it her all.
Then the room shook, the roar and excitement from the crowd in the stands above signaling that the previous fight had a winner.
Darius glanced at the ceiling, picking up on it too.
"You ready?" he asked, catching her eye in the mirror with that hardened look Lyra had grown used to.
"I think so," Lyra replied with a half-smile.
Darius nodded, grabbing a towel, a water bottle, and a bucket of ice he'd prepared.
"Then move it. They'll call us any second," he said.
Lyra turned, surprised.
"What do you mean, us…?" she asked, eyeing Darius curiously.
He didn't bother looking at her, hefting the gear and striding down the dimly lit hallway.
"Just follow me. I'm not climbing into the cage with you, but leaving you out there without someone in your corner? That'd be a damn crime," Darius grumbled, as Lyra hurried to keep up.
She stopped a few steps short of the exit, the blinding stadium lights making it feel like she was approaching a portal at the end of the hall.
But it wasn't nerves that made her pause—it was surprise.
"You'd do that for me?" Lyra asked, her tail twitching faintly with excitement.
Darius turned to look at her, seeming like he wanted to say something, but he just waved off the question with a flick of his hand.
"It was me or the kid, and trust me, you don't want Kai in your corner. That's why I stuck him in the stands," he said, leaning against the wall.
"What're you waiting for? Go make a hell of a first impression," he added, gesturing her forward with a hand.
Lyra pulled the hood of her robe up, covering her ears. But this time, it wasn't out of fear or to hide her feral identity.
It was Darius's tip for her entrance—something about the lights messing with her nerves.
She stepped through the hallway's threshold, her heart pounding so hard she felt the pressure building in her chest, her tail swaying in a steady rhythm.
As she emerged, the arena buzzed with murmurs. Ferals and humans, seated in separate sections, watched her, whispering about what kind of feral she was.
Her tail and ears were still hidden by the robe as she climbed into the octagon, where her opponent waited.
Lyra finally shed the robe, revealing her fox ears and tail with pride to the crowd and the fighter across from her.
Her opponent was a male panther, his black hair slightly covering his menacing yellow eyes.
He wore black shorts, matching his species and starkly contrasting the white bra and shorts Kai had gotten for Lyra.
The crowd seemed to catch on to the matchup, watching as Lyra, a small-statured fox feral, stood tall in her corner, sizing up her rival.
"Is this a joke?!" a spectator bellowed, making Lyra glance his way.
A middle-aged man glared at her from the human section, his face twisted with disdain.
"I bet on the surprise fighter! What kind of cheap trick is this?" he shouted, clutching what looked like his betting slip in a furious grip.
The stadium erupted in laughter, some mocking the bettor, others pointing at Lyra.
Even in the feral section, a murmur spread, many wondering why a fox thought she belonged in there.
Lyra ignored their jeers, focusing instead on her opponent.
The panther feral, Quentin "Black Storm."
She recalled the info Darius had given her the day before when her opponent was confirmed:
"He's faster and stronger than you… but not by much," Darius had said with a grin. "In the BMMA, transformations are banned, and most ferals stick to their hybrid forms for comfort."
"Also…" Kai had chimed in, "don't worry about facing techniques you don't know. Ferals see it as an insult to use human moves, so you've got the edge there."
Lyra eyed the panther, feeling uneasy but resolute.
With a bit of luck, she could give it her all and maybe even pull off a win, despite the odds stacked against her.
As Lyra steadied herself, a feral in the stands suddenly shouted from their section.
"What the hell?! That traitor's got a human in her corner!" he roared, snarling with every word.
The feral section descended into chaos, hurling insults at Lyra and Darius while cheering for Quentin.
Her opponent shrugged, clearly relishing his apparent advantage.
"You heard 'em, little fox. You shouldn't have come here," Quentin said, raising a hand and earning cheers from the ferals.
Lyra got some shouts of support too, but for all the wrong reasons.
"You better win, fox! Or I swear I'll kill you myself!" yelled the human who'd had the bad luck of betting on her.
Lyra closed her eyes, exhausted by the noise.
"Darius," she murmured, catching her trainer's attention. "I can't wait to get started," she finished, her eyes blazing with bloodlust.
She was furious at the crowd, but they didn't matter right now—her opponent did.
The best way to shut them up was to beat that panther.
Darius gave her a firm pat on the back, nudging her toward the center of the octagonal cage.
"That's the spirit. Now get out there and make that betting fool rich," he said with a smirk.