Odessa’s pov
The bell echoed through the arena; for one suspended moment, neither fighter moved.
The crowd held its breath, then the Titan lunged, his fist shooting forward with frightening speed.
A collective gasp swept through the audience as Rune leaned backward just enough for the punch to graze the tip of his nose.
The crowd cheered.
“So close!”
“Take his head off!”
Rune remained silent.
His boots glided across the bloodstained canvas with practiced ease, every movement was calm and almost effortless.
He wasn’t rushing; the Titan threw another punch, and another.
Each one was powerful enough to knock someone unconscious.
“He hasn’t landed a single hit,” the man beside me muttered.
His friend laughed.
“That’s because Rune lets everyone tire themselves out first.”
I frowned.
The Titan’s breathing had already grown heavier.
Sweat glistened across his forehead as frustration twisted his face.
“Stand still!” he roared.
Rune answered by sidestepping another punch, and the audience roared with laughter.
The giant’s face darkened, and he charged again.
This time, Rune moved fast and slammed his fist into his ribs.
The Titan’s head snapped backward, and a second punch slammed into his face.
A third into his stomach.
The giant stumbled several steps before catching himself against the cage.
The audience erupted into deafening cheers.
“That’s our champion!”
“I told you!”
“No one touches Rune!”
I found myself gripping the edge of my seat.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I’d never watched a fight before.
Yet somehow, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Rune didn’t fight recklessly; there was something about the precision behind every movement.
The Titan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and laughed.
“So that’s it?”
His grin widened.
“I expected more.”
Rune didn’t answer.
He simply adjusted the black tape around one wrist.
The gesture somehow irritated the giant even more.
With an enraged roar, the Titan charged again.
This time he didn’t throw one punch; he threw six.
Rune avoided five, but the sixth connected with his face; a sickening crack echoed across the arena.
I gasped, and Rune staggered backward.
Blood spilled from his nose, dripping onto the canvas below.
The Titan threw both fists into the air.
“I HIT HIM!”
His laughter boomed throughout the arena.
“I ACTUALLY HIT HIM!”
A strange ache settled in my chest; it was just a nosebleed, nothing serious.
So why…
Why did I feel relieved when Rune straightened instead of falling?
He lifted one gloved hand, then he looked down.
The man beside me leaned forward.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?” I whispered before I could stop myself.
“Titan made him bleed.”
“So?”
He chuckled nervously.
“That’s the last mistake anyone ever makes.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Rune slowly rolled his shoulders.
The blood from his nose continued to trickle down over his lips, staining the edge of his black mask.
He didn’t bother wiping it away again.
His amber eyes, barely visible beneath the mask, locked onto the Titan with unsettling calm.
The referee instinctively took two steps backward.
Rune took one step forward and then disappeared.
At least that’s what it looked like.
One second he was standing across the cage; the next, he was directly in front of the Titan.
The giant’s eyes widened as Rune’s fist slammed into his ribs.
A loud crack echoed through the arena.
The Titan doubled over, a strangled groan escaping his lips.
Before he could recover, Rune hit him with another punch.
This one landed squarely across his jaw.
His head snapped violently to the side.
“RUNE!”
“RUNE!”
“RUNE!”
I stared in disbelief.
How was he moving so fast?
The Titan stumbled backward until his spine crashed into the steel cage.
The fencing rattled from the impact.
Rune didn’t give him time to breathe.
A kick to the thigh, a jab to the stomach, and a hook to the ribs.
The Titan’s feet actually left the ground before he crashed flat onto his back.
The warehouse fell silent; the referee rushed forward.
“One!”
The Titan groaned.
“Two!”
His fingers twitched.
“Three!”
He tried to push himself up and collapsed again.
The audience began counting with the referee.
“Four!”
“Five!”
“Six!”
I found myself holding my breath.
“Seven!”
The Titan shook his head, trying to clear his vision.
He planted one hand on the canvas, but his arm trembled violently.
“Eight!”
His knees buckled.
“NINE!”
He reached for the cage, and his fingers slipped.
“TEN!”
The referee waved both arms.
“It’s over!”
The crowd erupted into absolute chaos; money flew into the cage, and people hugged strangers.
Some shouted in triumph while others groaned over lost bets.
The announcer’s voice thundered through the speakers.
“YOUR WINNER!”
He paused dramatically.
“THE UNDEFEATED KING OF THE UNDERGROUND!”
“RUNE!”
The name shook the warehouse.
Rune, however, didn’t celebrate.
He stood exactly where he was, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths.
Blood still trickled from his nose, and one eye had begun to swell.
His split lip had opened again.
The referee raised his arm, and Rune lowered it almost immediately after.
He climbed through the cage door without so much as a glance at the screaming crowd.
As he walked toward the tunnel leading backstage, people reached over the railings, shouting his name.
He ignored every single one of them.
I watched him disappear into the hallway; without thinking, I stood up.
People around me were already filing toward the exits or crowding around the betting counters.
I found myself moving with them.
Before I realized it, I’d wandered near the narrow corridor leading backstage.
A security guard was busy arguing with two drunk men trying to force their way through.
No one noticed me.
I glanced down, and a neatly folded white handkerchief peeked out from the pocket of my hoodie.
It had belonged to my mother; she always insisted I carry one.
“You never know when someone might need a little kindness,” she’d say.
The memory made my throat tighten.
I looked toward the hallway.
Rune had stopped walking.
He leaned one hand against the concrete wall, breathing heavily.
Blood dripped steadily from his nose onto the floor.
No one approached him, so before I could overthink it, I pulled the handkerchief free.
“Hey!”
Rune turned, and for the briefest moment, our eyes met.
Even behind the mask, I felt the weight of his gaze.
Startled, I tossed the folded handkerchief toward him.
It fluttered through the air and he caught it instinctively.
His eyes dropped to the neatly embroidered corner.
A tiny silver “O.” For Odessa.
He looked back up and I immediately panicked.
“Oh my God,” what was I doing?
I spun around and bolted out the door.
I sprinted up the stairs two at a time, shoved through the steel exit door, and burst into the cool evening air.
Only when I reached the opposite side of the street did I finally slow down.
My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.
I bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.
“Nice job, Odessa,” I muttered between breaths.
“You sneak into an illegal fighting ring…”
I inhaled sharply.
“Throw your favorite handkerchief at a complete stranger—”
Another breath.
“—and then run away like a lunatic.”
I pressed a hand to my face.
What was wrong with me?