“Gentlemen, welcome to Fight Club. The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you DO NOT talk about Fight Club!”

  - FIght Club

  That first punch Scurvy released revealed almost immediately how terrible of an idea this fight was. What would look to be a fist of steel, flesh, and bone to the average observer traveled with the pressure of a cruise missile, the very air it traveled through crushed by the raw, explosive force on display. My mind watched the punch hurtle towards me in slow motion, registered through Sagesight but almost entirely unable to counteract.

  Almost being the key operator. On reflex my body managed to shift out of the way, letting the fist glide past mere millimeters from my face. A sonic boom screamed in my ear, and I felt a trickle of blood cross my cheek in a cut. The hit hadn't even connected and it still drew blood.

  Then Scurvy tossed out her second punch.

  The shock of the first attack wore off as adrenaline fully kicked in, and I managed to somehow evade the following combo of titanic swings Scurvy sent my way. Not that it was easy, with her attacks coming out deceptively fast, but knowing what to expect alongside Sagesight made the task surmountable. No opportunity to land a hit of my own came through at this point; I was stuck playing defense at the risk of getting one-tapped.

  “Not bad at all,” Scurvy said from behind her assault, an excited glint in her eye. I had no intention of responding, mostly because I was focused on not getting a hole in my face.

  A slip-up was inevitable, however, and after a change to her rhythm and an awkward shift of my own I was left directly in the path of a straight hurtling towards my face.

  Just in time I raised my arms, and Scurvy's fist collided into the block instead. The blowback nearly knocked my fists back into my face, and the entire rest of my body was sent sliding back from the force of the hit despite the intense friction of the floorboards. It stopped just as it neared the edge of the platform, and I felt the very back tip of my foot dangle over the edge.

  Scurvy gave no reprieve, closing the distance and throwing out a nasty hook in my direction as soon as she fell in range. I was forced to roll to the side to dodge the punch, but I silently cursed as soon as I realized my new position: directly at one of the hard corners of the platform.

  The pirate's body loomed over me, far too broad to give any chance of slipping past the sides. She walked forward with little urgency, clearly recognizing that she had me in a perilous position. Perhaps curiosity spurred on this behaviour, interested in seeing how the cornered animal would push back.

  My answer, in this case, was under.

  I dived under her legs, Scurvy reacting with a response just too late as I sailed between the gap she had left just wide enough. I righted myself as fast as I could and sent my own punch her way. The hit connected just as Scurvy turned back, smacking her directly in the tit and pushing her back. Only slightly, though; the stumble back seemed more from surprise than from the force of the hit.

  “Slippery lil’ shit, aintcha?” The smile all over her face told me such a statement was far from any sort of anger or irritation.

  “What can I say, I like living.”

  “Guess I should start takin’ ya seriously.”

  Even Sagesight had difficulty tracking when she moved next, closing the distance in an instant. It screamed in my head to slip back, and I only just managed to lean far enough out of the way to miss the uppercut that followed and threatened to take off my head. Even less time to breath was given with the flurry of jabs, crosses, and hooks that followed, far increased in attack speed and frequency from before. I was quickly beginning to understand that her comment about surviving rather than winning was not just her being cheeky.

  Despite everything I managed to sneak in a few body shots thanks to Sagesight, but they may as well have done fuck all. The flesh and skin rippled from the hit, but Scurvy at large didn’t seem any bit disrupted from the attacks.

  “Are you being polite here,” she taunted. “Or is that all you can throw at me?”

  “I’m-”

  I shifted out of the way of a punch.

  “Trying-”

  Another sailed overhead.

  “Not to-”

  Yet another missed my face by a hair.

  “Die!”

  Scurvy gave a laugh. “Well try harder!”

  Egging me on was obviously a strategy to get me worked up to the point of slipping up, and I hated to admit that it was working a little bit. Just how casually Scurvy was taking this all was starting to get on my nerves.

  One final punch and the assault briefly ceased. I stumbled backwards, nearly losing my footing entirely, and let out a few labored pants, sweat collecting on my brow. All this intense motion had even my enhanced musculature screaming for relief at this point. I couldn’t keep this up; it was only a matter of time before I slipped up. Something decisive needed to happen.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Scurvy agreed, throwing one massive haymaker with her right arm my way. She must have anticipated that I would dodge it more traditionally, which she would immediately counter and put me on the floor.

  Instead I pushed even further in, swerving just past the very tip of the fist and wrapping my left arm around her bicep as tightly as possible. A look of confusion crossed Scurvy’s face, but it was quickly superseded by pain with me driving my free fist directly into her face. Her head reeled back, and I threw another before she could right herself. I needed her to lose her balance, and I guessed that was more likely to happen on the side with her peg leg.

  A shot of pain surged through my side. My entire body screamed in pain, and I’m sure the only reason why my bones didn’t completely shatter at the hit was due to my earlier augments. I couldn’t let such pain be audible, so all I could do was grit my teeth and hit Scurvy again, clamping down even harder onto her body.

  Blow after blow struck her face, actually showing some visible signs of bruising and blood, before I finally felt the subtle shift of her center of gravity and both of us started to topple towards the ground. An honest to god look of panic crossed her face, and I wound up one last punch with a victorious grin.

  That hope wiped away in the brief moment I caught her own face turn into a smile.

  Pain. I couldn’t process what had happened, but a horrible, searing pain crossed my forehead, all the while getting thrown back to the boards. Shards of my mask sprinkled to the ground, and I felt the sensation of blood trickle down my face. I couldn’t focus; my vision grew hazy, senses fuzzy, and ears began to ring. Of what I could make out, Scurvy loomed overhead, standing perfectly upright as if that entire last exchange didn’t happen.

  I struggled to stand, wobbling like a newborn deer once I managed to get back on my feet. Scurvy said something, her lips visibly flapping and a muffled noise hitting my ears, but my brain was simply too rattled to process any of it. I don’t know what my face must have looked like at that moment, but I imagine it was one of simultaneous agony and horror. Especially upon seeing that massive grin on her fucking face.

  Pain, this time in my gut. By the time my body registered the hit, I was already airborne. The last thing I remember before blacking out from the shock was the image of the platform getting smaller and smaller in my eyes as I fell back down to the earth.

  “Max!”

  I awoke with a start, gasping as if I hadn’t taken a breath for the last week. Everything still hurt, but remarkably nothing felt broken anymore. The answer quickly revealed itself as I felt something skitter directly out of my back.

  Class II Nano-Regenerative Suite.

  “Ah,” I blurted out at Cal’s clarification. Focus returned to my eyes, and the sight that greeted me was Kevin, Trig, and Scurvy standing over me, various degrees of concern on their faces. If I were to guess, the one who yelled my name was Kevin.

  Just as I was able to push myself up into a sitting position, a cup was shoved directly into my face by the pirate. “Drink.”

  I obliged, taking the cup with a shaky, pained hand and downing its contents. Bitter, that herbal medicine type. I had to resist the urge to spit it all out with how strong that flavor was. But the moment I forced it all down, a cool, soothing sensation enveloped my body and everything returned to clarity. The pain completely washed away, and my mind felt sharper than even before the fight.

  Scurvy offered a hand. “You alright, lass?”

  I took it, hoisting myself to my feet with more energy than I expected. “Yeah, I'm good now. Jesus, you sure know how to throw a punch.”

  She laughed. “Same to you. You had me on my toes far more than I'd like to admit. Haven't been that blindsided by someone in a fight since getting thrashed by that blasted fox from Europe.”

  “Fox?”

  “If you're in the biz’ long enough you'll hear about her. Either that or she'll hear about you. Hope for the former.”

  I rubbed my head, and naturally wandered to where I took damage. My mask was miraculously still on, but the entire forehead area once present was now shattered beyond repair. “What…even was that?”

  “My leg has a stabilizing feature,” she replied, raising her prosthetic up. “If I get too unbalanced, it'll automatically right itself and me with it. I kicked her on right after lining up for a nasty headbutt.”

  I ended up rubbing my forehead on reflex. “Nasty is putting it lightly. I thought my head was about to explode.”

  Scurvy looked to have lost herself in thought, then rummaged around in her pocket for something. “Lass, you're good. Real good. A lot of the Sams I've had the pleasure of meeting tend to get caught up in their toys a bit too much. When you can pull a solution out of thin air at a moment's notice, many forget that you can always solve the problem yourself.

  “You ain't like that. You're ferocious. More stubborn than a bull shark, but with the skills to back it up. This clearly ain't your first fight like this, and Sams like that aren't as common as you think. Ones with that real fighter's instinct.”

  Something flew through the air with a light toss. I caught it and inspected: a necklace, silver chain and tiny silver skull as the ornament, eye sockets filled with red jewels.

  I gave a look, and all Scurvy responded with was a wink. “A gift. From me to you. Enjoy the rest of the party, lass.”

  She sauntered off with a whole posse of skeletons behind her. Kevin and Trig took a good look at my new piece of jewelry, but I just stood and watched the pirate queen disappear below her deck. I think I may have just been stupefied by the entire exchange; catching the attention of a Tier Four Samurai wasn't a small deal.

  Cal was the one who snapped me out of my stupor.

  Max, a moment if you would. Not aloud, preferably.

  That was an odd request, especially since he knew I was generally blase about this stuff. Still, since he was requesting it specifically, I chose to oblige and replied via text.

  [What's up?]

  I have just received a message from Vanguard Scurvy's AI, and the content of the message I have deemed important enough to remain secretive about.

  My brow furrowed. Things were getting weirder.

  [...Alright, what's in it?]

  First, a link. Following its address leads to a video call application, one that shows signs of Samurai-level encryption.

  Second, the following message:

  “Talk to me, 10 PM tonight. Make sure you are alone.”