LOUD MUSIC BLASTED through the arena speakers, the vibration scourging through Devora's veins the second they entered the dark room. They followed the long passageway, the music and cheering growing louder and louder before light finally spilled into their line of view, shining down on a single fighting ring set right in the center.
Thousands of rows of seats lined the space, some of which were raised up in a manner so that the people in those seats could see the stage better. In total, the entire venue took up four whole levels and was single-handedly the largest room that could be found in their headquarters. There was even a VIP viewing box at the highest level, looking down at the ring. Unlike the other seats, the VIP room was sealed off, separated by a piece of glass. The venue looked like it came straight out of her television, a live broadcast of a professional wrestling match.
"Woah," Leah gasped from beside her, soaking in the sights. "Look at all these people."
Her older brother stood beside her, equally starstruck. They had bumped into each other on their way to the gathering point, hence continuing their journey together into the arena.
The siblings had every right to be stunned silly by the crowd. The sea of bodies was roaring, energy fizzing through the air like electricity during a lightning storm. There had to be hundreds of people packed into the venue, most of them already seated while some others hovered around the ring, chatting with acquaintances. It seemed like everyone that was in headquarters had been jammed into one room and thankfully, the monstrous venue could fit everyone and more. Most of the seats within the first level were filled but the second through fourth levels were mainly empty.
"I didn't know there was such a big room here," Devora commented in awe, pivoting where she stood so that she could look around her.
"This is headquarters." Dallas shrugged. "Sometimes, certain events are held here and all other agents that work in the other branches across the country will have to gather here. The room is built to accommodate everyone."
"And what about the agents in other countries?" Travis asked.
"Those are sparse in numbers." Waving his words off, Candice placed a hand on her hip. "Usually no more than twenty people at most and they're led by other leaders carefully appointed by Cain. I guess you can say that while they're considered part of us, they still mainly operate individually in accordance with their countries' governments."
"Cool," Leah sighed in awe, her lips parting as she soaked in the sights once more. "This building sure is bigger on the inside than you would think when viewing it from the outside."
As her friends continued their conversation about the arena and the organization's structure, Devora allowed her eyes to wander. For a moment, they landed on a single brown-haired boy who was speaking to the commentator. When she caught sight of him, she halted, her eyes unwaveringly staring as if she was stuck in a trance.
Nathan must've felt her staring at him because he turned to look back shortly after, his pupils searching the crowd for the person burning down the back of his neck. Their gazes finally connected for the first time in far too long, staying locked together despite the distance that separated them.
It had been a while since their last friendly exchange. Just a simple look from Nathan sent Devora's stomach churning uncomfortably. A part of her longed to reach out, to make the first move and apologize for the childish cold war she had raged. However, there was also another side of her that didn't want to give in and bow down.
"Looks like they're about to announce the pairs," Dallas muttered, gesturing to the giant digital boards that dangled right above the stage. The four screens were large and catered to all corners of the crowd no matter where the audience sat.
His words pulled Devora out of her reverie, allowing her ego the little push it needed to win. She tore her gaze away from Nathan, looking towards where Dallas was pointing instead.
"Oh no," he continued. Dallas's face was blanched white with horror, hissing through his teeth. In contrast, Leah and Candice looked ecstatic.
Names had started to appear one by one on the giant digital boards, the neon green letters appearing torturously slow in Devora's point of view. As each match-up finalized against the black background, the crowd's volume grew. When Devora scanned through the list and sifted out two familiar names, she couldn't help herself but bite down on her bottom lip. A mixture of relief and worry washed over her.
Their reigning queen, the person that had gloriously won over her competitor, was going to compete again today.
H. Young vs F. Graver
L. Lane vs M. June
I. Till vs J. King
V. West vs C. Clair
"No," Travis practically shouted, his voice firm as he spun to face his younger sister. His eyes were wild and urgent, bleeding distress. It was the first time in months since Travis had shown so much emotion. Ever since his youngest sibling had died, he wore a face of stone. Now, at the possibility of losing another sister, his facade had started to crack. "You're not fighting."
"Nonsense. Of course I am." Leah grinned brightly as Candice placed a proud hand on the former's shoulder. Candice's action only made Leah's smile widen. She practically glowed. "I was chosen to fight. I'll take my opponent down no matter how much more experienced she is."
"Atta, girl!" Candice patted Leah's back, radiant with pride. "And no worries, Travis. Matilda June is a new recruit that just joined last month. It will be an easy win for Leah. You can't have a luckier match-up."
Despite having the odds in Leah's favor, Devora still couldn't help but feel pity for Travis. After all, he had just lost a sister less than half a year ago. This company event sounded sketchy at best and there was always the risk of something unfortunate befalling Leah. If any tragedy were to happen to her, Devora wasn't sure if Travis could cope.
No matter what was to be sacrificed in this fight, Leah had to win.
As the first bell rang, the crowd burst into a collective chant-like cheer. The first set of competitors went up on the stage, their steps boosted by the sounds that reverberated. A man in his mid-twenties walked up, his stance strong and proud as he stood to one corner. On the other side was a girl, timid and small, so very petite that Devora wasn't able to suppress a wince as the girl climbed onto the large sparring ring.
Based on looks alone, it was going to be a quick and easy win for the man. He must have thought so too for he grinned widely as he eyed the little girl, cracking his knuckles and his neck lightly in preparation as if to appear more intimidating.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The crowd roared loudly, all delighted and filled with energy as the commentator began to speak. "Welcome to this month's Battlefield Arena! As you can tell, the queen, our champion for so many days and nights, the undefeated for a very long time, is finally fighting again today after evading the ring for the last four months."
A single spotlight found Candice from among the crowd, shining down on her as she stood up and waved patronizingly. In the light, her golden hair gleamed like a waterfall made of sunlight, blinding and brilliant. The cheers from the crowd only heightened at the sight of her, whoops and cheers resonating as they rejoiced the return of their queen.
"But before Her Majesty takes the stage, we will start with a few beginners' rounds where the fighters are fresh blood that have yet to experience the cruelty of the ring. Give it up for Henrick Young and Farrah Graver!"
Leah hooted and shouted, her hands waving wildly in the air, fists clenched tight. It wasn't her match yet but this would be her first taste of the competition that awaited her. At her side, Dallas and Travis wore matching frowns, both with their eyebrows scrunched up as they stared forlornly at the stage. In contrast to the two guys, Candice was bathing in golden glory.
"Now, the rules are simple, kids—"
Devora could see Julius Cain in the glass-box viewing area, looking down at the contest with his arms folded across his chest. Standing next to him was a little boy, probably not even ten-years-old, curiously glancing down with no hint of fear across his youthful features. If anything, the child seemed fascinated by it all.
"— no weapons are allowed in this competition. You are to only use your physical body to equip yourself. There is no half-time nor tap-outs which means that you fight until either one of you gets knocked out or dies. For the interest of this organization—," the commentator paused to offer a quick bow to Cain, raising a hand in his direction to show his respect, "— please work efficiently and keep casualties to a minimum."
As the commentator went through with his introductory speech, Devora took that time to scan through the crowd once more. She knew from what Dallas had explained previously that there were people all over the country gathered in headquarters just for this monthly competition. However, how many people were there exactly in this building on an average day?
As if he could read her mind, Dallas stepped closer to Devora, placing a casual arm over her shoulder. His body weight leaned slightly on her but it wasn't enough to cause her to tip over.
"There are around sixty agents in headquarters on an average day," he answered her unspoken question. "Not including other staff members, of course, such as the crew in charge of facilities management, staff meals, and all that. The numbers you see here are from all across the country." Wearing a light grin, he continued, "No one will kill you in your sleep, no worries. Or at least, not yet."
Devora scoffed, shaking her head with a slight chuckle.
"Thanks for the tip," she replied, muttering under her breath while leaning into his hold. As she did so, she could feel someone's gaze burning down the back of her neck.
Sure enough, it took only mere seconds before Nathan came storming over, his face red and flushed as he ripped Dallas's arm off of Devora. Although Nathan's extreme reaction surprised Dallas, the latter made no comment. Instead, he simply raised both his hands, palms open in surrender before smirking cheekily.
The referee rang the bell just as the commentator hopped off the stage fluidly, landing on his toes just as both competitors kicked off from their corners. Devora watched with her breath hitched in her throat, examining each assassin's subtle reactions and moves in order to calculate their next steps to the best of her abilities.
Henrick Young was bulky, well-built, and fully decked out in muscle mass. Opposing him was Farrah Graver, a girl who looked so small that she could be crushed by the sole of Young's boot. Yet, the very second Young made his first move, Devora could tell what the outcome was going to be like.
It was the complete opposite of what she had originally presumed based on their appearances alone. Truly, the small shouldn't be underestimated for they could be mighty.
With his fist clenched, Young plummeted it in Graver's direction, sending the latter hopping out of the way. However, she did it with so much ease and held the form of a ballerina, gently prancing back before he could even realize he had missed his mark. Graver kicked out once, sending Young's head backward as his hands reached to grasp his now broken nose.
"You bitch," Devora could hear Young hiss loudly. The words were barely even spoken before he stretched his arm out again, eager to throw another punch Graver's way. If there was anything he could do, it seemed like it was striking his way through those in his way.
His movements gained speed, turning into quick jabs that pummeled air except for the last. The last hit that he had thrown out managed to clip Graver right on her shoulder, catching her as she was transitioning her movements from the previous few hits. This sent her recoiling back a good distance, gripping onto her shoulder as her face curdled in agony.
Nathan whistled. "That's got to hurt," he mumbled under his breath.
Graver took a deep breath, gritting her teeth and shrugging off the pain as if the previous attack meant nothing to her any longer. Jumping onto the fences, she ran along the metal with perfect balance, scampering as if she was made of wind. For what she lacked in size, she made up for in agility. Young's bulky physique slowed him down significantly, making him one step behind in blocking Graver's attacks. He was unable to keep up with her speed.
Henrick Young had made his move. Now, it was time for Farrah Graver's.
She jumped from one of the corner poles right as Young had his back turned to her— a grave mistake on his part. She threw out a kick to the back of his knees, causing him to collapse down to the ground. Before he could counter, Graver hit Young's neck from the side hard. Just like that, his body went limp, swaying for a split second before the humongous man came toppling to the ground.
"Is he... dead?" Leah asked unsurely, straining her neck in an attempt to see past the taller figures in front of her.
"No, just out cold," Dallas replied. A small bead of perspiration trickled down the side of his temple. "She hit a certain area that triggered a false alarm to the brain, in short. He will be up and hopping soon enough. Provided she didn't burst any blood vessels with that hit."
"And the match goes to Farrah Graver!"
The crowd burst into a collection of both cheers and groans at Graver's surprising win. Most of the people were surprised that such a petite girl could beat a much stronger man. Indeed, looks were deceiving.
"Be careful out there, Leah." A hand reached out to grab Leah on her forearm, causing her to turn around just in time to face her brother's worried eyes. "Don't make the same mistake as Henrick Young. He underestimated his opponent."
"You have no need to worry about me." Leah wore an easygoing grin on her lips as she gently pried her arm away from Travis's grip. Not knowing her next words would only deepen Travis's worry, she continued, "I've been told that vengeance and anger are the best fuels for violence."
"— and next up, let's give a round of applause to welcome Leah Lane and Matilda June!"
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