Is He a Hero?

(1.7) Suffocating Gravity

"I'm glad you're back, Ronin."

"..."

"What? So shocked to see me?"

'Of course I am.'

"Forgive my silence, Mr. Carlson."

"No worries, Ronin," Michael smirked, knowing why the boy was acting the way he was. He motioned toward the sofa.

"Please, sit." Bergeron makes his way to the sofa, with Leon reluctantly trailing. They make their way around. Bergeron sits first to Michael's right while the boy sits to his left, trying to be as far away from the other two as he can.

"Lebman," the suited old man walks up behind Michael. "Why don't you fix us some drinks, please? I'll take a vodka."

"Of course, sir." The old man bowed, looking to Bergeron and Leon.

"Bourbon, no ice."

"Just water."

Lebman bows, going to the corner bar.

The three stare out the window, pitch-black darkness greeting them as Lebman prepares their drinks.

"So..." Michael faced Leon. "How've you been."

"Come again?"

"Heh." Michael gave the boy an amusing smirk. "You okay, Ronin? You seem to be lost."

"It's just..." Lebman walks over and hands Leon his drink. The boy mumbles a quick 'thank you' before continuing.

"Why was I brought here? Why are you so passive after..." The boy hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "After what happened."

Michael nodded at the boy's words before smiling at him. Lebman delivers the other two drinks before he heads to the back of the room.

"Well, to answer your latter question." The CEO takes a sip of his vodka. "Bygones. To answer your first question..."

Suddenly, the window goes bright. Lights turn on in succession as Leon looks towards the window, revealing what's on the other side.

"We're here to watch."

The lights reveal a large concrete room on the other side of the window. Below them, a large canvas mat in the shape of an octagon sat, surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. Numerous rows of benches and seats rose outside the fence, observing the mat. Some (mostly the luxury seats in the back) are occupied by suited men, while others are occupied by a rowdier crowd.

A young man in a bright blue suit walks into the octagon-shaped ring with a mic in hand. He introduces himself and thanks the crowd for being present before riling them up.

"You brought me here to watch an MMA match?" Leon asks, eyebrow raised as he looks at Michael in confusion.

"I did, a little side entertainment for this evening."

The ring announcer introduces the two fighters as they enter the ring. One was a skinny guy, who, despite their stature, Leon could tell he was scrappy and could pack a punch. The other guy, Leon thought, was a machine. He stood as tall as Bergeron and was somehow more muscular than him. He was heavily scarred; what stood out to Leon, though, were a pair of thick black metal cuffs attached to his wrist.

"Does it make you feel nostalgic?" Michael looked at Leon.

"It does, in a weird way. Though I can't remember the last time I did something like this..." He replied. The boy stared at the prominent, muscular fighter with intrigue.