The bell echoed through the warehouse like a church bell at the end of the world.
One ring.
Two girls.
No referees.No crowd.Only cameras and Rae's smug silence in the shadows.
Aara stepped forward first.
No warm-up.
No theatrics.
Just fists wrapped in black tape, and eyes that didn't blink.
Raelyn didn't move.
Didn't shift.Didn't posture.Didn't breathe wrong.
She stood like a statue built from compliance and combat drills.
Hair tied back. Expression blank.
Engineered silence.
A weapon without fingerprints.
"You're not a fighter," Aara said under her breath.
"I'm whatever Rae made me to be."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."
Raelyn moved first.
The hit came fast — clean elbow to the jaw, followed by a palm strike to the solar plexus. Aara staggered back. Not surprised.
Impressed.
"Okay," she muttered. "So you can fight."
Raelyn didn't respond.
Just attacked again.
What followed wasn't a brawl.
It was a calculated war.
Raelyn fought like a ghost — in and out, no wasted movement, no emotion.
Aara fought like a survivor.
Every strike was born from history.
Every dodge from trauma.
Every counter a rejection of being silenced again.
Five minutes in, blood hit the mat.
Aara's lip — split.
Raelyn's jaw — bruised.
Neither flinched.
But only one of them bled like it meant something.
"You don't feel anything, do you?" Aara asked, circling now.
"Feeling slows you down."
"Feeling keeps you human."
"Then Rae didn't raise me to be human."
On the balcony, Rae sat in silence, glass of champagne in hand, watching his daughters —one built from fire,the other from ice —trying to kill what he couldn't control.
Then Aara smiled.
It wasn't soft.
It wasn't sweet.
It was the kind of smile that meant something had snapped into place.
"You're not my replacement."
Raelyn paused.
Just slightly.
"You're my revenge."
And then Aara stopped holding back.
She dropped low — sweep kick to Raelyn's knee, then surged forward, fists flying, body moving like instinct, like memory, like a song she hadn't sung in years.
Raelyn blocked the first punch.
Dodged the second.
But the third?It landed.
Hard.
Jaw.
Crack.
Raelyn spun.
Stumbled.
And for the first time —
looked afraid.
"This pain?" Aara said, panting. "I earned it."
"You didn't grow up in broken apartments. You didn't bleed for your parents' mistakes. You didn't hold your own sister's betrayal like a second skin."
"You were made in a lab."
Raelyn swung again — this time with rage.It connected.
Aara hit the mat hard.
Her shoulder screamed.
But she laughed.
Laughed.
And Raelyn stopped moving.
"That's the difference between us," Aara whispered, spitting blood as she stood.
"I lose, I keep fighting."
"You lose? Rae pulls your plug."
Raelyn's fists dropped slightly.
Her eyes flickered — something behind them.
Fear?
Doubt?
Memory?
Hope?
And in that split second —Aara stepped forward and did something unexpected:
She dropped her guard.
Opened her arms.
Let Raelyn choose.
"You can keep fighting me.Or you can stop being his."
Raelyn didn't move.
Didn't speak.
But her fists didn't rise again.
And that's when the glass shattered above them.
Rae stood on the balcony, gun in hand.
"You stupid little girls.I built you.I own you."
The barrel pointed at Aara.
Haru was already moving.
Time slowed.
Aara turned just as the gun clicked.
Haru shoved her sideways.
The shot fired.
And Raelyn —Raelyn stepped in front of it.
The bullet hit her shoulder.
She went down hard.
No scream.
Just silence.
Rae cursed — started to reload.
But Haru didn't give him the chance.
By the time security stormed in, Rae was on the ground —Haru above him, blood on his hands, face blank with controlled fury.
"You don't get to own anyone ever again."
Later, Raelyn was taken to a private hospital.
She'd live.
Maybe even heal.
But she would never again fight for Rae.
And Rae?
He was arrested on-site.
Charges pending.
Assets frozen.
Reputation shattered.
Back at the apartment, Aara stood in the shower until the water ran cold.
When she stepped out, Haru was waiting — hoodie in hand, towel ready.
She wrapped it around herself.
Didn't speak.
He didn't ask.
He just opened his arms.
And for the first time since this all began —Aara let herself fall into them.
"It's over," he whispered into her hair.
"No," she said. "It's just beginning."
She meant freedom.
She meant healing.
She meant everything Rae said she'd never have.
And now?
She had it.
Not because someone gave it to her.
But because she took it back —with blood, fire, and teeth.