The arena hummed to life, sealing off the two combatants.
Jaxon rolled his shoulders, eyeing the man across from him. His opponent stood tall, built like a war machine—broad frame, thick arms, a stance that screamed brute force.
Erik, one of the top members of the Strength Faction.
"So, I guess it's my turn to teach you, huh?" Erik cracked his knuckles, his voice carrying a cocky edge. "You've been running around, acting like some enlightened warrior. Strength this, awareness that. It's simple, Jaxon. Power wins. Always has, always will."
Jaxon exhaled, shaking his head.
"And here I thought you'd actually say something new."
Erik smirked.
"You don't get it. You keep talking about understanding weakness, but what's the point? Weaklings don't get to decide anything."
A static crackle cut through the air. The Overseer AI's voice chimed in, dripping with exaggerated amusement.
"Ohhh, I love this one! Two meatheads debating philosophy! One believes in power alone, the other in control. Which is correct? Who knows?! But, since words are boring, why don't we find out in the most violent way possible?"
A loud BEEP signaled the start.
Jaxon barely had time to breathe before Erik moved.
---
The First Clash: Power Unleashed
Jaxon twisted aside as Erik's fist tore through the air, the sheer force cracking the ground beneath them. No hesitation. No restraint. Just raw, destructive strength.
Jaxon didn't meet the blow head-on. He sidestepped, letting Erik's momentum carry him forward. But Erik wasn't an amateur—he adjusted mid-motion, his elbow whipping back.
Jaxon blocked—barely.
A shockwave blasted out from the impact, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the ground.
Jaxon slid back, arms throbbing.
"Heavy as ever, huh? But tell me—are you actually thinking about your attacks, or just throwing them?"
Erik grinned.
"Why think when I can crush?"
He lunged again, this time bringing both fists down like a hammer.
Jaxon's eyes flickered. Predictable.
He planted his foot, shifting his weight—then let Erik's own force work against him.
At the last second, Jaxon twisted, slipping past the strike. Erik's fists obliterated the ground where he had been standing.
Before Erik could recover, Jaxon struck.
A clean, precise blow to the ribs—
A second one to the knee—
A third, a palm strike to the chest—
Each one perfectly placed, exploiting Erik's exposed openings.
But Erik barely budged.
Jaxon clicked his tongue.
"Figured. You're too damn sturdy."
Erik laughed.
"You hit like a scholar. You don't have the strength to back up your fancy moves."
The AI whistled.
"Oooooh, that's gotta sting. But guess what? The round isn't over yet, folks!"
Jaxon narrowed his eyes.
Then let's test that theory.
He stepped back, taking a breath.
Time to show Erik what true awareness meant.