The arena's spotlights blazed over the steel cage, painting the ring in stark light and shadow. The crowd's anticipation was a living thing, masked faces pressed close to the rails, voices echoing off concrete and steel.
The announcer strutted to the center, tuxedo gleaming, voice booming through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen! For our seventh match tonight, we have a true clash of titans! In this corner, undefeated in the underground circuit, the living fortress—Ironhide!"
Ironhide stepped out, flexing as his body began to change. His skin rippled, shifting from a pale tan to a gleaming silver-grey metallic sheen. Even his hair and nails transformed, taking on the same metallic luster. His eyes flashed an eerie, cold blue—glowing for a moment before settling into an icy, predatory stare. Scars crisscrossed his arms and chest, some deep and jagged, others thin and precise—each a testament to past battles and the rare attacks that had managed to pierce his formidable defense.
The crowd erupted, chanting his name. Ironhide raised a fist, his metallic form catching the light, an indomitable presence in the ring.
"And in the opposite corner, the mysterious challenger, a newcomer to our stage—Raze!"
Kairon strode out, his ANBU-style suit fitting like a second skin, his kitsune mask glinting under the lights. He grinned beneath the mask, golden eyes sharp and focused. The crowd's cheers for Ironhide nearly drowned out the scattered shouts for the newcomer.
The announcer raised his hand. "Fighters, to the center! You know the rules—one weapon, no hidden tech, powers allowed, victory by knockout or surrender! Ready?"
Both nodded.
He stepped back, voice rising. "Three… two… one… FIGHT!"
The bell rang. The crowd surged to their feet.
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Ironhide wasted no time. He rolled his shoulders, silver-grey muscles flexing, and charged. Each step was thunderous, his metallic form moving with surprising speed.
Kairon's grin widened. He dodged, weaving past a hammer-like fist, feeling the air split beside his head. He countered with a snap kick to Ironhide's ribs—nothing. His taijutsu, even with Amazonian strength and speed, barely made Ironhide flinch.
Ironhide swung again, reflexes sharp, experience obvious. He caught Kairon's wrist, twisting, nearly throwing him off balance. Kairon rolled away, stance low, eyes alive with excitement.
Announcer: "Raze is fast, but Ironhide's defense is legendary! That skin's tougher than a vault door, folks! And look at those scars—each one a story, and none enough to stop him!"
Kairon danced back, Ironhide pressing forward, relentless. Every time Kairon struck—elbows, knees, open-palm strikes—sparks flew from Ironhide's metallic hide. The crowd cheered for every blow Ironhide shrugged off, their favorite clearly in control.
Ironhide's hands morphed, nails hardening into claws as sharp as daggers, slashing and grabbing with brutal precision. Kairon blocked with his sword, sparks flying, but Ironhide's strength sent vibrations up his arm. A glancing blow caught his side; his suit absorbed the worst, but the impact left a visible slash and a bruise beneath.
Ironhide grinned, voice taunting. "Come on, Raze! Is that all you've got? I've fought kids faster than you—and they hit harder, too!"
Kairon leapt back, breathing hard but grinning wider. He loved this—the challenge, the danger, the thrill of a worthy opponent. Madara's memories stirred within him, battle-lust burning bright. Still, he kept his responses calm and measured.
"Keep talking," Kairon replied quietly, circling.
He called to Sage in his mind. "Analysis?"
[Sage: Further analysis required. Engage for quicker data. Seek patterns, expose weaknesses.]
Kairon nodded, circling, sword ready. Now, he let his Sharingan flare to life, golden irises bleeding into crimson. The crimson glow caught Ironhide's eye.
Ironhide grunted, unimpressed. "Pretty pink eyes. Got anything else, princess?"
Kairon grunted back, charging. His sword slashed, drawing sparks but not blood. Ironhide countered, claws raking, fists swinging with the force of sledgehammers. Kairon dodged, parried, his grin never fading.
The announcer's voice cut through the roar: "Raze is holding his own, but Ironhide's barely breaking a sweat! Look at those counterattacks—this is a brawl, folks!"
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After a minute of brutal exchanges—Kairon's speed against Ironhide's increasing power—Sage spoke again, his voice cool and precise in Kairon's mind.
[Sage: Opponent's skin is invulnerable, flexible metal. Strength and speed increase as he takes more damage. No stamina drain. Genjutsu minimally effective due to one-tomoe Sharingan and high physical stats. Weaknesses: must breathe—target mouth, nose, throat. Vulnerable at joints, eyes, inside mouth, and internal organs. Pain is reduced but not eliminated. Extremely sharp and strong attacks can pierce cross-shaped scars.]
[Recommendation: Use piercing attacks, aim for vulnerable points. End fight quickly.]
Kairon's grin turned feral. He remembered his last fight, how he'd exploited a moment of distraction. He began taunting Ironhide, weaving in and out, mocking his slowness, his scars, his "tin can" armor.
Ironhide, experienced, saw through the tactic but couldn't help growing angrier, attacking with even greater aggression. The crowd roared as the two clashed, the ring trembling beneath their feet.
Announcer: "Ironhide's picking up the pace—look at that speed! Every blow he takes, he just gets meaner!"
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Ironhide's relentless advance became a blur of silver-grey muscle and flashing claws. With each blow he took, his speed and strength surged, until he was matching Kairon step for step, strike for strike. The ring rattled with every impact, and the crowd's roar rose to a fever pitch.
Ironhide pressed the assault, claws slashing in a wicked arc. Kairon ducked, but a metallic fist slammed into his ribs, driving the air from his lungs and sending him stumbling. He spat blood behind his mask, vision swimming, but the pain only fueled the wild, battle-hungry grin stretching across his face.
Announcer: "Ironhide's on a rampage! Raze is getting hammered—can he withstand this onslaught?!"
Kairon barely had time to recover before Ironhide was on him again. A savage uppercut shattered half his kitsune mask, exposing his bloodied mouth and the feral gleam in his eyes. The crowd gasped at the sight, but Kairon only laughed, a low, guttural sound that echoed through the cage.
Ironhide sneered, "Still smiling, freak?"
Kairon wiped blood from his lips, eyes burning gold. "Always."
Ironhide drove him back with a barrage of blows—each one heavier, faster, more precise. Kairon's arms ached from blocking, his legs trembled from the effort of dodging, but every cell in his body sang with exhilaration. Amazonian blood and Madara's memories surged together, a symphony of violence and joy.
He twisted, narrowly avoiding a clawed swipe that grazed his cheek. Instinct and muscle memory took over. He countered with a spinning kick, then a flurry of sword strikes—sparks flying with every glancing blow. But Ironhide's defense was relentless, and he pressed Kairon into a corner, nowhere left to run.
A brutal punch came for Kairon's face. Time seemed to slow. In that instant, something inside him surged—a new clarity, a deeper focus. Unbeknownst to Kairon, his Sharingan bloomed, a second tomoe spinning to life in each eye.
He twisted aside, the punch missing his face by a whisper. With newfound precision, he saw the opening—every twitch, every shift in Ironhide's stance mapped out before him. Kairon's sword flashed, slicing across a cross-shaped scar on Ironhide's shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood.
Ironhide staggered, surprised for the first time. Kairon pressed the advantage, his movements now a blur, anticipation and reaction blending into a seamless dance. But Ironhide was far from finished—his blows hammered Kairon's guard, each impact rattling his bones and threatening to break him.
Kairon's stamina waned. His body screamed in protest, lungs burning, muscles trembling. But his grin never faded. The thrill, the danger, the challenge—this was what he lived for.
Announcer: "This is a fight for the ages! Raze is battered, but he's not backing down! Look at that smile—he's loving every second!"
Ironhide drove him to his knees, claws raised for the finishing blow. Kairon's eyes, now with two tomoe, blazed with a deeper, more dangerous red. He surged upward, deflecting the attack and countering with a vicious uppercut of his own, sword following in a deadly arc.
The crowd was on its feet, the air electric with anticipation. Both fighters stood, battered and bloodied, neither willing to yield.
After a brutal exchange, Kairon breath ragged.
Kairon's eyes narrowed. "Not yet."
Ironhide lunged, aiming to finish it with a single, crushing blow. Kairon, desperate, activated his enhancement magic—muscles surging, speed and power doubling for a brief, precious window. The faint aura flared around him, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.
He ducked Ironhide's punch, Sharingan swirling, still active and analyzing. With a burst of chakra, he cast a simple genjutsu—just enough to daze Ironhide for a heartbeat.
Kairon moved. He unleashed a flurry of blows—Sasuke's Lion Barrage, upgraded for maximum internal damage. His sword, now coated with neurotoxin, slashed Ironhide's eyelids mid-air—not to blind, but to leave the eyes vulnerable. He hammered the same vulnerable spot, driving the neurotoxin deep.
Announcer: "Incredible! Raze is going airborne—those are some brutal mid-air combos! Is Ironhide finally feeling it?!"
Ironhide crashed to the mat with a thunderous crack, the ring shaking. Kairon landed on a corner post, chest heaving, exhaustion burning through him—but his grin was wild and triumphant, Sharingan still spinning.
Dust settled. Ironhide staggered upright, taking a step forward, the crowd gasping at his resilience. Kairon tensed, ready for more.
But Ironhide suddenly collapsed, the neurotoxin finally taking hold. As he hit the mat, his metallic form shimmered, the silver-grey sheen fading, hair and skin returning to their normal color. The transformation was undone, leaving Ironhide sprawled and unconscious, his scars stark against flesh.
Silence fell, broken only by the announcer's awed voice.
Victory
"Winner—RAZE! What a match! What a finish! Give it up for both these warriors!"
The crowd exploded in cheers, some for Ironhide's valiant stand, but now many for the grinning, battle-hungry newcomer who had just toppled a legend.
Kairon raised one hand, not in arrogance but in silent celebration. He looked down at Ironhide's fallen form, respect in his eyes. Then he turned, leaving the ring for his private room, every muscle aching, but his spirit soaring. His Sharingan remained active, still feeding him every detail, every twitch of movement in the world around him.
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Alone, Kairon caught his breath, the adrenaline slowly fading. He cleaned his blade, checked his suit, and made sure no evidence of his true abilities remained. He didn't want the underworld sniffing around—not yet.
He thought back on the fight, grinning wider. Coming to Keystone City, joining this tournament—it was the right call. He'd gained experience, tested his limits, and had more fun than he'd had in years. And with a day to rest before the next match, he was already hungry for more.
His grin, wolfish and eager, said it all: the best was yet to come.