Mateo and Alex stood facing each other in the arena, tension crackling between them. Mateo settled into a fighting stance, muscles coiled and ready. Alex merely folded her arms, posture casual and confident.
Her nonchalance infuriated him. Did she really think she could win without even bothering to take a proper stance? He studied her carefully, looking for any tell—a twitch, a glow, anything that might reveal her quirk—but she revealed nothing as she stood there grinning, clearly waiting for him to make the first move.
He decided to take the bait.
Mateo sprang forward, feinting with his left arm before launching a vicious right hook, hoping to gain the upper hand with speed and deception.
Alex's grin widened as she effortlessly read through his fake. She raised her forearm and blocked the punch with practiced precision. No hesitation. Mateo immediately pivoted, driving his left leg forward in a powerful kick aimed at her ribs, but Alex seemed to anticipate it, sidestepping the attack before his leg even reached her.
Mateo gritted his teeth, frustration building as he twisted into another combination—a swift jab followed by a roundhouse kick. Alex blocked both attacks with fluid grace, then countered with two lightning-fast punches as soon as an opening appeared. Mateo barely managed to shield his face with his arms. Ten seconds into the fight, and Alex still hadn't used her quirk. Why? Was she toying with him, thinking he wasn't worth the effort?
He refused to be underestimated. Anger fueling his movements, Mateo lunged forward, unleashing a furious barrage of strikes. But no matter how fast or unpredictable his attacks, Alex always seemed one step ahead—blocking, weaving, and finding moments to land precise counterattacks that he barely managed to deflect.
A full minute passed with neither landing a clean hit—just a dance of missed strikes and blocked blows. Mateo's initial adrenaline surge began to fade, his breathing growing labored. Meanwhile, Alex had barely broken a sweat. Had she trained under Arx too? Her technique was flawless, her movements economical and precise.
The realization that he was losing control of his emotions only fueled his anger further. With a growl, Mateo launched himself forward, putting everything into a powerful straight punch. He could see his fist about to make contact with her face—
But then Alex did something unexpected.
She raised her palm, fingers splayed wide. Mateo thought she might be attempting to catch his fist, but instead, something invisible slammed into him.
An unseen force hurled him backward as if he'd been struck by a speeding car. He tumbled through the air before crashing to the ground fifteen feet away, dust billowing around him.
That had to be her quirk! Mateo realized, scrambling to his feet and wiping dirt from his face. Not super strength—she hadn't even touched him. Not air manipulation either—he hadn't felt any rush of wind against his skin. His best guess: some form of telekinesis. The revelation did nothing to improve his outlook. Alex had just tossed him like a rag doll with a simple gesture, and his body already ached from the impact.
He needed to identify her weakness quickly if he had any hope of winning. This was already proving far more challenging than his fight with Brett.
Before he could fully regain his footing, that invisible force seized him again. This time, instead of pushing him away, he felt himself being yanked toward Alex.
No—from his perspective he was being pushed, but from Alex's viewpoint, she was pulling him.
Her hand was no longer outstretched but clenched into a tight fist, drawing him toward her as a predatory smile spread across her face.
Before he could react, he found himself directly in front of her. Her fist connected with his solar plexus with devastating precision.
For a split-second, the world went black. Then pain exploded through his body, radiating from the impact point in waves of agony. Mateo doubled over, clutching his stomach as he struggled to breathe. Tears blurred his vision, but he fought against the darkness threatening to consume him. He couldn't give up—not now, not after everything he'd sacrificed to get here.
"Don't you have a quirk? Why aren't you fighting back?" Alex asked, the enthusiasm draining from her voice, replaced with something that cut deeper than any physical blow—
Annoyance.
She wasn't pleased with her dominance. She was irritated that he wasn't providing a worthwhile challenge.
Mateo's vision tinged red as rage flooded through him. He launched himself at her, hoping his feigned defeat had lulled her into complacency, but she merely gave him a bored look and—impossibly—yawned. She actually yawned as she activated her quirk again.
With a casual flick of her outstretched hand, Mateo was catapulted upward, the force far greater than before. His breath rushed from his lungs as he was propelled skyward at terrifying speed. Alex and the ruined landscape below shrank rapidly as he ascended.
Shit. This is bad. The thought crystallized as he narrowly avoided smashing into a jutting piece of debris, his arm scraping painfully against concrete. He glanced back and felt his stomach drop. If his trajectory continued, he'd collide with the massive building behind him—an impact that would shatter bones and, more importantly, mark his defeat.
He couldn't lose like this. Not when he'd fought and sacrificed so much for this opportunity. But the gap between him and Alex was undeniable. She matched him in physical combat, and her quirk was overwhelmingly powerful.
Unless he used his own.
He'd rejected his power for so long, but without it now, he faced not just defeat but serious injury. Arx had been right all along—raw strength alone couldn't overcome superhuman abilities.
He hated it. Hated relying on the power he'd spent years trying to suppress. It was how he'd defeated Brett, and now he had no choice but to embrace it again.
But how? He'd never trained with it, never practiced controlling it. Each previous activation had occurred in moments of life-threatening danger, his body instinctively releasing it as a survival mechanism.
He groaned in frustration as he stretched his arms outward, desperately willing the slime to erupt from his limbs as it had before. His ascent wasn't slowing. If his quirk failed to activate, this would be the end of his journey.
Then he felt it—something stirring beneath his skin. The sensation grew stronger, his pores expanding as if making way for something desperate to escape. Pressure built under his skin until it felt like he might burst.
Suddenly, everything released at once. Massive tendrils of vibrant green slime erupted from both arms, stretching to impossible lengths until they reached the walls of nearby buildings, anchoring themselves firmly to the concrete.
He could feel the tension building as his momentum carried him upward. But gradually his speed decreased as kinetic energy transferred into the elastic potential of his slime tendrils. They stretched thinner and longer the further back he traveled. The tension became excruciating, and for a terrifying moment, he feared they would snap, sending him crashing into the building behind him.
Then, miraculously, he stopped. Just as his back was about to collide with the concrete, the taut slime absorbed the last of his motion.
But that energy had to go somewhere.
In an instant, Mateo was catapulted forward, flying even faster than when Alex had launched him. His lips parted involuntarily, saliva streaming past him as he shot through the air like a bullet. His eyes burned as the rushing air seared them like sandpaper.
And he was hurtling directly back toward his opponent. Alex's savage grin widened at this unexpected development.
"I knew you were holding back!" she shouted, raising her arm in preparation. "Why'd you wait until now to fight back? Thought you could beat me without your quirk? Afraid of hurting a girl?"
He couldn't respond as he rocketed uncontrollably toward her. The slime had retracted from his forearms, leaving him without protection. Could he generate more in time? And what would he do with it if he could?
Alex's fingers closed into a tight fist. She was about to activate her quirk again. Mateo knew it would involve her pushing or pulling force. He was already hurtling toward her at breathtaking speed—a normal person would dodge.
But Alex Velez was far from normal. He knew with absolute certainty she wouldn't move aside. She would meet his challenge head-on.
Pulling would be pointless since he was already speeding toward her. So she would push.
He braced himself, fearing his body might tear apart from the opposing forces. He was mere feet from Alex when her quirk activated.
An invisible wall of force slammed into him, battling against his momentum. It became an intense war of physics—her pushing force versus his catapult-driven inertia.
For a suspended moment, they were eye to eye, Mateo trapped in a strange stasis as her power contended with his momentum. Her lips curled into a wolfish smile, pupils dilated with excitement. Despite everything, her fierce determination kindled something within him—respect, perhaps, or a recognition of a worthy opponent.
Who would win? The answer revealed itself quickly. It was Alex.
Like a physics equation resolving, the force she exerted proved greater than his momentum. The difference sent him flying backward—not as far as before, but enough to leave him battered.
He coughed painfully, wincing as he assessed his injuries. A new pressure materialized, this time pushing him perpendicularly to the ground. Alex stood over him, using the push aspect of her quirk to pin him down. Mateo felt his bones creaking under the pressure, his chest constricting as he struggled to draw breath.
"I told you I would win!" Alex declared triumphantly. Mateo's vision began to darken at the edges. This was nothing like his fight with Brett, where his slime had overwhelmed his opponent despite his physical disadvantage.
Now, even with his quirk and all his strength, he still couldn't overcome Alex's power. Was he simply that outmatched?
He knew she wouldn't kill him—just apply enough force to render him unconscious, perhaps breaking a few bones in the process. Medical teams were undoubtedly standing by, so his life wasn't in danger.
But the defeat still cut deep. After all his determination, all his training, he hadn't been enough. The goal he'd sacrificed everything to achieve remained just beyond his grasp.
A voice called out from above. "That is enough. The winner has been determined. Congratulations, Alex Velez."