The morning after felt… wrong.
Too quiet.Too calm.Like the storm had passed — but the air still smelled like lightning.
Aara lay in bed, tangled in the sheets, Haru asleep beside her.
His arm over her waist.His breathing steady.
Too steady.
It should've felt safe.
It didn't.
The phone buzzed.
Just once.
She didn't reach for it.Not at first.
But something told her — she had to.
The message was from Ashling.
No name. Just a burner contact.
"They're prepping a final match. It's not about the fight. It's about you. Get out while you still can."
And attached?
A screenshot.
A new fight poster.
Not public yet.
Just a draft.
ASH vs. RAELYN
Aara stared.
No breath.
No blink.
Because she knew the name Raelyn.
She'd heard it once — when Rae was drunk during a press night last year.
"My legacy. My blood. She'll be better than Ash ever was."
Raelyn wasn't a fighter.
She was a weapon Rae had been building behind the curtain.
Private training. No circuits. No footage.
Aara was never meant to fight her.
She was meant to be replaced by her.
Haru stirred beside her.
"What is it?"
She handed him the phone.
Watched the shift in his face.
From tired.
To focused.
To furious.
"He's trying to end this in public."
"He's putting her in the ring. She's his daughter."
"No," Haru said."She's his knife."
By noon, the image had leaked.
Private channels first.
Then student networks.
Then media clubs.
Ash vs. Raelyn — Final Match. Winner signs the Crown Contract.
Except Aara never agreed.
She never signed.
She never consented.
But Rae didn't care.
He was done with consent.
Now?He wanted submission.
Later that day, Ashling showed up at their door.
Same hoodie. Same eyes.
But something in her face had changed.
Fear, maybe.
Or regret.
"You have to run," she said the second Aara opened the door.
"You knew about Raelyn?"
Ashling nodded.
"We trained together. Same building. Same team. But she wasn't like us."
"How?"
"She didn't cry. Ever."
Haru stepped into the hallway.
Eyes locked on the girl.
"Why are you warning us now?"
"Because she's going to kill her," Ashling whispered."And she won't feel bad about it.Because that's what Rae made her to do."
Aara leaned against the doorframe.
Exhausted.
But not shaken.
Not anymore.
"Let her try."
Ashling grabbed her arm, desperate now.
"You don't get it. It's not a fair fight. It's not even a real fight. There are no medics, no refs. It's a spectacle. A blood finale."
"So you want me to disappear?"
"I want you to live."
Aara stepped closer, voice low.
Steel wrapped in silk.
"I've been dying piece by piece in Rae's world for years.You think running now would save me?"
She looked at Haru.
Then back at Ashling.
"I'm not running. I'm finishing it."
That night, the poster went public.
Aara didn't deny it.
Didn't comment.
Didn't flinch.
Because this time, she wasn't entering the ring for fame, or survival, or even revenge.
She was entering it to end the bloodline Rae built in her shadow.
The plan was simple.
Expose the fight.Control the feed.Document every move.
If Rae wanted a show —Aara would give him one.
But on her terms.
Haru hacked the network.
Ashling gave them Raelyn's movement schedule.
Ayin — surprisingly — got them entry badges to the venue.
Everyone had a role.
But Aara?
She had only one job:
Don't break.And don't let Raelyn think she's the one with the crown.
Three nights later, the fight began.
No audience.
Just cameras.
And Rae, sitting in the shadows like a king about to witness a coronation.
The air was cold.Metal chairs.Concrete floor.A single ring under one spotlight.
And two girls.
Aara — wrapped, focused, steady.
Raelyn — silent, blank, precise.
Like she'd already won.
Rae stood before it started.
Clapped once.
"Let the future decide itself."
And the bell rang.