The VIP box door opened, breaking the meditative silence with a wave of noise and the smell of fried grease. Sal, Grace, and Aiya piled back in, arms loaded with cardboard trays.

  "Souvenirs," Aiya said, dropping a snapback hat into my lap.

  I looked at it. It was black with neon purple stitching that read: THUNDERDOME 2025.

  She was already wearing the matching hoodie.

  I stared at the hat. The world had ended, governments had fallen, millions had died and yet, somehow, the markup on stadium merch had survived the apocalypse. I didn't ask how much it cost because the answer would probably depress me more than the war did. I put the hat on to avoid the argument.

  "Nachos?" Sal offered, holding out a tray of chips drowning in yellow cheese.

  "Pass," I said.

  Below us, the arena lights dimmed and the crowd quieted down.

  "At long last!" Coolie’s voice said, descending from the ceiling again. "The final match of the preliminaries! The heavyweights!"

  The spotlight hit the Red Corner.

  "From The Cove! A Realm 3 Cultivator walking the Red Witch Path! Give it up for... LILY!"

  A figure walked out. She was a blotch in the lights—draped in black robes and a veil so thick I couldn't see a single inch of skin. She looked like a gothic grim reaper who had taken a wrong turn on the way to a funeral.

  The spotlight shifted to the Purple Corner.

  "And representing Seaside! A mystery wrapped in metal! A man with no Realm and no Path! MAJORS!"

  The gate opened, and hydraulic footsteps echoed through the stadium.

  Majors walked out. He was encased in sleek purple armor that made him look like a corporate Iron Man. His eyes were pitch black and he moved with a mechanical precision that was unsettling.

  The crowd murmured and the stats flashed on the screen:

  Lily: Realm 3.

  Majors: NO REALM / NO PATH.

  "No cultivation?" Grace asked, frowning. "Is this a joke? Seaside sent a normal guy in a suit?"

  "It's not a joke," I said. "Mister O doesn't tell jokes. If Majors is out there, he’s a weapon; a product demo."

  "FIGHT!"

  Lily raised a gloved hand and snapped her fingers.

  "Six Lips."

  The air around Majors rippled and six giant, floating red lips manifested out of thin air. They were grotesque, puckered, and gigantic. They rushed Majors from all angles, forming a bizarre, fleshy barrier to trap him.

  "Valon."

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  A sword materialized in Majors hand. It was black fire contained in a magnetic field.

  He swung.

  It was a horizontal slash and the black flame cut through the air, incinerating the lips instantly. They evaporated, leaving black scorch marks hanging in the air.

  Majors charged.

  Lily vanished and reappeared twenty feet in the air above him.

  "Pink Box," she whispered.

  A literal giant pink gift box with a white ribbon materialized around Majors and slammed shut.

  "She trapped him?" Sal asked, spraying crumbs.

  "Wait for it," I said.

  Ten seconds passed and the box shuddered.

  Then, it exploded from the inside out. Shrapnel of pink energy rained down on the crowd. Majors flew out of the smoke—actual flight, not jumping—straight at her.

  Lily realized she couldn't tank him so she wove a sign with both hands.

  "Mimic."

  Her form rippled and the black robes dissolved, replaced by purple metal. In a second, she was a perfect carbon copy of Majors, armor and all. She spawned her own black flame sword.

  They clashed in mid-air.

  The impact shook the glass of our VIP box and sparks rained down on the screaming crowd. They fought at speeds that blurred the vision, trading blows that would have leveled a city block.

  "This is incredible!" Sal yelled, pounding the railing. "This is the greatest fight I've ever seen!"

  "Amazing," Grace agreed, her eyes wide.

  Aiya was silent, her eyes darting back and forth.

  I wasn't cheering along with them. I was terrified.

  I watched them fight, and a realization settled in my stomach.

  The war with White Hill? That was a playground fight. Axehill was just a bully with a stick. These two? These were natural disasters.

  Lily could have soloed the entire White Hill army in an afternoon. Majors could have done it before lunch.

  Lily dropped the mimicry and got serious.

  "Rainstorm."

  A thunderstorm manifested inside the dome. Dark clouds swirled, and acidic rain began to pour down, sizzling as it hit the concrete floor. Thunder rattled my teeth.

  "Flower Suit."

  Lily encased herself in armor made of floral matter and she drew a sword made of thorns that dripped green venom.

  She charged.

  They collided again. It was a blur of high speed violence. Lily cast "Vine Restrict," summoning roots to bind Majors’ legs but Majors tore through them like wet tissue paper. The acid rain melted the purple plating on Majors’ shoulders, but the metal regrew instantly, flowing like liquid mercury.

  It was a battle of attrition. Monster vs. Monster. But one monster ran on Qi, and the other ran on something else.

  Ten minutes of hypersonic combat later, Lily went for a spell and her hands wove the sign for another barrier.

  Nothing happened.

  She stopped moving. The tank was empty.

  Majors didn't hesitate and closed the distance in a blink.

  He delivered a brutal backhand to her helmet.

  Lily flew across the arena like a ragdoll and hit the far wall, sliding down and leaving a smear of blood on the concrete. She was done.

  "WINNER: MAJORS!"

  The crowd went feral, screaming for the purple knight.

  I sat back, breathless. Thirty minutes of straight, high-level combat.

  "They are the two strongest cultivators in the city," Aiya said. "I doubt Mister O or Misty are stronger. If they were, they would be fighting instead."

  "Or," I said, "maybe they’re just like me. Efficient multi-taskers who send their best employees to do the heavy lifting while they sit in the VIP box and eat nachos."

  Aiya patted me on the shoulder.

  "Don't flatter yourself too much, Kaz. I think you're unique in that regard."

  The screen buzzed and the bracket updated.

  Semi-Finals: Bells (Eden) vs. Siegfried (Independent).

  I adjusted my "THUNDERDOME 2025" hat and leaned forward, shaking off the existential dread.

  "Okay," I said. "The demigods are done fighting. Now, it’s time to see what the physician can do against the tyrant."