A group of men sit around a table. The lights are dim as they sit there in silence. The man with combed over brown hair shifted back in his seat as he leaned his head back.
???: Hamadeen, when is Moll getting back?
Hamadeen: Joseph, you asked me that question like seven times now. Chill out, bro.
Hamadeen Hamed was an Arabic man of a light build. Having low cut black hair with a freshly trimmed beard, Hamadeen looked much older than his age of nineteen. Joseph Zylus had a bored expression on his face. He reached over to the side, Hamadeen watching as Joseph sat normally, holding a maroon colored guitar in his hands. Joseph strung his hands along the strings as a melody filled the room.
Hamadeen: Y'know, for being much younger than him, you force Moll to do all the work. Do you have no shame?
Joseph: He's a top ten, isn't he? Has the longest match history or whatever. He can do a bit of extra labor.
Hamadeen: You're oddly cruel.
The door on the opposite side of the room was kicked open as a happy faced old man entered the room. The old man had messy gray hair and a corporate beard. The sheathed sword over his shoulder made a clicking noise as Hamadeen and Joseph looked back.
Joseph: Yo, Moll. You brought the pizza?
Moll: The pizza doesn't matter! Zenzo just brought us great news! That youngster Daymond is going to hold another tournament!
Joseph: Another?
Hamadeen: I didn't get to join the first one. I think I should participate.
Joseph: As my pupil, I think this would be a great experience. As boxers, we will show them how we roll.
Moll: You boxers are a totally different breed. I haven't met one as good since Ali!
Hamadeen: Bro, I heavily doubt you met Ali.
Moll: Doubt all you want, but you fellers are on a whole 'nother level! We'll show them what the Collection is made of. We're going to take the Eclipse by storm.
Joseph smiled as Hamadeen let out a sigh.
Hamadeen: A lot of work for just a simple tournament. But if this is what it'll take to see what the rest of the organization does, I'll do it.
Moll: That's the spirit Hamadeen! My ol' bones haven't felt a rush like this in forever!
Joseph: Just try not to put out your back, grandpa.
Moll: Don't make me bash you over the head with this sword here, boy.
Joseph: Oh no, the all mighty sword. Whatever will I do?
…
A phone rings as a group of four men finish killing off several other people who now litter the ground around them. One of the men who was wielding a sword stepped back before looking down at his phone.
???: Shun, Yussuf, Arthur, listen up!
Shun: Yeah yeah, what do ya want, Nupan? Going to annoy us with another failed lottery ticket?
Nupan: Shut up. Guess I won't tell you about this better lottery ticket I pulled in.
Arthur: Better lottery ticket? What do you mean by that?
Arthur placed his bloodied bat on his shoulder, not noticing the blood dripping onto his purple coat and black, long curls.
Nupan: My brother just gave me the thumbs up that we're all capable candidates to fight in the upcoming tournament that boss is holding.
Yussuf: You mean that Dianshi? I don't understand why he didn't just join in on the combat like us. The Shen siblings and Ryuji siblings as two duos in the tournament would be quite dangerous.
Shun: Yeah, no. Dianshi isn't really made out for fighting like us. Plus, brother, I don't think you should just go around saying our last names like that.
Yussuf: What are these guys going to do? Tell their caretaker?
Yussuf stabbed one of the fallen men with his katana, a bit of blood dripping onto his jika-tabi.
Yussuf: Dammit! I just got these!
Shun: Yeah, nice going, idiot.
Arthur: So Nupan, the boss gave all of us the go ahead?
Nupan: Yup. I think the boss wants all of us to get a shot at aiming for leader. Granted, it seems like it'll go back to him anyway. He makes it work.
Arthur: What kinda outlook is that?
Nupan: I just know how it'll turn out, but that doesn't change how much I want to do this. We have a chance ahead of us. So let's take it.
Arthur: I couldn't agree more.
Shun: Yeah, can you two stop flirting over there? We still have a mission to finish. I don't think we want to call in Shizu to clean up after us.
Yussuf: Anything but Shizu! She's just too damn scary!
Arthur: Last time we stepped out of line, I seriously thought I was going to die…
Shun: Exactly, so let's get the work done and over with.
Nupan: Whatever you say, Shun. I know you're just as excited.
Shun: You bet I am.
…
In a sort of lab, a woman with long black hair, wearing a lab coat, and with rectangular glasses stared intently as sparks flew from in front of her. She let out a sigh as she leaned back, a mark on her coat reading "Doctor A."
Doctor A: Okay, Quintin. The final adjustments have been made.
Quintin: Now that's what I like to hear. You're a real lifesaver, A.
Doctor A: It's just my job, don't think too much of it. Oh, and the tournament message reached your email earlier.
Quintin: Looks like it's finally time to take these bad boys out.
The short blonde man with similar looking glasses smiled as he threw a rapid series of kicks.
Doctor A: Your kicks already show a significant improvement since the last time we checked. You truly are improving.
Quintin: With your intelligence and my determination, there's no way I can lose.
Doctor A: Despite the fact that I did basically all of the work.
Quintin: Hey hey, no need to get into the specifics. This was a group effort.
Doctor A: Yes, a group effort of me, myself, and I.
Quintin: You really are no fun, huh?
Doctor A: I never intended to be.
…
Theodore smiled at his desk as Carrie strolled into his office.
Carrie: Yo Terry, I brought in those that had an interest to talk about the tournament.
Theodore: Good job, Carrie. Men, come in!
The doors swung open as Gonzalez walked in, followed by one man with a helmet with several purple slits for the eyes, another holding a flag, Mike, and a leisurely looking man. Theodore met the group with a smile.
Theodore: Gonzalez Muretojos, Abraham Oneiroi, Michael Taylor, Remy Jones, and Angel Draiman. You all wish to apply to the tournament that I've only allowed my closest men to know about, correct?
Remy: Well, haha, you know… I don't know why I really decided to do this, I don't know if I'm really cut out for this…
Carrie slowly appeared from behind Remy, placing both hands on his shoulders before he let out a scream, jumping away as he had an embarrassed look on his face.
Carrie: He's blushing so hard! He was so scared! Isn't it adorable?
Theodore: Carrie Miller! If you act out of line during an important conference like this, I will have you work a full week with Actun Phelps!
Carrie: Eeeeee~! Anything but the stinking navy! They're so totally boring!
Remy: I was attacked by a woman…
Mike's thoughts: He wasn't even able to react to her, is he even fit for this tournament?
Theodore cleared his throat before feeling a bite on his arm. He raised his arm as he saw another man with sharp teeth and nails dangling from his arm.
Theodore: Daniel, I'll take it that you also wish to apply.
Daniel nodded his head as much as he could without letting go of Theodore's arm. Theodore let out a chuckle as he smiled at Daniel.
Theodore: Then gladly, I welcome you.
Abraham: Father! I think you should reconsider how many of us you bring! It would look cowardly.
Angel: What's the problem with that? I bet Arachna is going to do something similar. Their boss ain't in his glory days anymore.
Theodore: I will not limit anyone to join this tournament. If you all wish to apply, then I shall allow it.
Carrie slides over next to Theodore, nudging him with her elbow.
Carrie: Finally going to let me get a shot, eh?
Before Theodore could get his words out, Daniel quickly let go of Theodore's arm before holding onto his shoulders, growling at Carrie.
Carrie: Damn you, human dog!
Gonzalez's thoughts: Wasn't this supposed to be a serious meeting?
…
Walking through the halls of a prison, a man wearing an all black officer suit with a cowboy hat strolled gleefully, his brown goatee shifting under his large smile. The badge on his black shirt read "Indica Patel." The man walked deeper into the prison walls, entering an elevator as he reached one of the lower levels. He walked forward, being met with a wall of glass. A single man stood on the other side, a creepy slight smile on his face.
Indica: Gary Gouda, I got some great news.
Gary: Oohhh? This is a rarity. You only ever really call on me for matches relating to a lot of money or for a silly murder mission.
Indica: If I'm going to make use of your murderous tendencies, it might as well be for some good. I don't take any of the money, it all goes to the prison's funds. The same prison that lets you have this comfortable room. And I see you escaped your restraints again.
Gary: Of course, Mr. Patel. Please, tell me what you have in store for me.
Indica: I want you to win a tournament for me! If you can manage that for me, I might be able to get you a nice isolated house with all the fondue that you could ask for.
Gary: Oho… That truly is a nice offer. I will miss this box, but a nice outdoor view would never hurt. Please come get me for when the time comes. I should be meditating for when the day comes.
Indica's thoughts: His potential will get me this victory!
…
A tall, dark skinned man punched the air quickly. Sweat dripped off his body as his face was full of determination. A few meters away from him, a gravestone sat with a round object placed on top.
???: Um, Cero?
Cero Ray LaMotta immediately spun around, swinging his arm, stopping short of the scared looking man. The man was of a smaller build, wearing a business suit that conflicted with his blue dyed hair. He stood as he held a phone in his hands, his shaking hands making it hard for Cero to see what was on the screen.
Cero: Kammy Snare, tell me what's on the message.
Kammy: O-of course! It's a message directly from the Eclipse. Apparently, there's going to be another tournament in a month's time…
Cero's eyes were filled with shock as he heard Kammy speak. Cero stood still as sweat dripped off of his body.
???: Would ya look at who it is! Mr. Rank Two finally stopped training!
Cero and Kammy looked at two men walking up to them, one with a calm looking face, the other with pink colored hair with noticeable scars over his body.
Cero: Mason Chordata, Tico Sambora. You finally decided to show up.
Tico: Yeah, my daughter just didn't want me to leave.
Mason: I just overslept. But we're finally here. What's with that face Cero? Looks like you saw a ghost. Don't tell me that that grave finally started coming to life.
Cero: This is no laughing matter. The Eclipse is going to be holding another tournament.
Mason: Another one?
Tico: Oh yeah, what happened to…
Cero: As you already understand, I must attend it.
Kammy: Yeah! As the second ranked fighter, all this training you're putting in should give you an easy win!
Mason looked as he noticed Kammy's nervous expression.
Mason's thoughts: At least pretend to have some confidence…
Tico: You think those two are going to appear?
Cero: I have no doubt. Ryan was quite the fighter, and the mystery fighter likely wishes to get revenge now that the Dictatorship is no longer an issue.
Mason: Joining that tournament sounds fun, I'm interested. We should definitely do it.
Tico: My daughter is going to be on a field trip for a few days, so I can make it.
Cero walked away from Mason and Tico. Kammy watched as Cero reached into his pocket, holding a blue version of the round object that sat on the grave.
Cero's thoughts: Was it your will that brought this opportunity so soon?
Cero looked at the object in his hand. Holding it closely. A photo of a man with a smile across his face making a peace sign was attached to the gravestone. An unamused Cero was next to him, Cero looking at the picture intently.
Cero's thoughts: You told me to destroy these if you or the Dictatorship were to ever fall, but I cannot bring myself to do so. I will bring back our glory, even under our new name of the Fallen Dispensary. I will get my revenge.
Cero turned away from the grave, facing Mason, Kammy, and Tico. He walked past them, placing the object back in his pocket.
Cero: We are entering that tournament. We have a mission we must finish.
Mason: Now this sounds like a great time.
Tico: Lead the way.
Kammy's thoughts: Are you really doing this for yourself, Cero?
…
Time left until the tournament: One month.