He's down. I did it! "He's down!"
Liquid from cups and popcorn kernels fly through the ring gates and into my face. The sound of scorn plays around me as a crowd of criminals stand up together and boo me for my accomplishment. The hateful crowd yelling threats at me- Yet it doesn't phase me. The high from winning is too overpowering for me to worry about what they might do to me.
I actually won! Yes! I'm invincible! I take one step towards the way I came, head still swimming from the win.
"Woah!" And immediately remember how vincible I really am, almost tripping over myself.
I stumble down the ring steps, the pain gradually catching up to me as my adrenaline fades. Gravity feels like it's trying to pull me into the ground as I go down each level. My feet drift aimlessly, trying to stay on the general course my mind is pushing them towards. Then I look up to where Jessie and Victoria are. They're... all the way up there.
An exhausted sigh pushes the remaining high from my lungs, and I push my feet with the promise of rest when we get back to our seat. A few more members of the crowd side-eye me on my ascent. Some with genuinely hateful scowels turn towards me. I'm sure there are more wishing pain on me that I'm just not noticing. The whole stadium might even be plotting against me.
I'm just lucky they haven't tried anything yet. I'm too tired to fight back, and even if I wasn't this drained, there's too many of them to fight off. I have to get back to Jessie. I can't stop. They'll protect me from an angry mob.
My soles throb against each step up and ignite the blows I recently took. It's hard, and maybe two weeks ago I would've taken a break or quit entirely. But I've climbed to the peak of a mountain made of ice and snow while my body rapidly aged. Even if I'm tired and in pain, this is nothing in comparison. But damn does it still hurts!
Before I can think about complaining more, a voice invades my dysfunctional headspace.
"Ren! Hey Ren! Earth to Ren!" To my right, Jessie is waving me down to my old seat. I must've zombie-walked my way up here. I slide past Jessie and almost reach the peace that is my chair before Victoria grips my arm.
"Ren! How could you do this to me!? After I was so nice to you! After I gave you a place to stay and food to eat, you do this to me!?"
I'm too tired for this... "What are you talking about now?"
"You were supposed to lose! I lost money because of you!" She leaps up to my head and smacks the top of it.
"You bet against me?"
"Obviously! Why would I bet for a spineless, no balls, noodle-armed guy to win!?" Her palm drums my head a second time.
"Ow! You got what you deserved for locking me in that cage! If you want your money back, step in the ring and bet on yourself winning!"
"Betting on yourself is restricted, that's rule number 0 of sports betting! That's why you were supposed to make me money by losing!"
"Then you shouldn't have underestimated me! When I'm not against Curators, against someone normal, nothing to sneeze at!" Winning a fight I thought I'd lose and making Victoria lose money! Maybe Jessie did me a favor by bringing me here!
Victoria jumps off my head and melts into her chair. "This sucks. Now I don't have money for the house."
"How much did you spend?"
"All of it."
"What do you mean all of it!?"
"What does all of it sound like it means?"
"What the-" Damn it, why is my housing security in the hands of Victoria!?
"Haven't you heard the saying 'go big or go home'? We went big and now we can't go home."
"That's not what the saying is supposed to mean... Where are we going to live?"
"Headquarters! always has beds!"
"Phantom, that's not helpi-" Maybe I was too zoned out climbing up to notice, but something isn't right about Jessie.
Their face is blackened in three places and their head has multiple growths popping from their face. Blood is melting across their face and staining parts of their costume.
"What happened to you Phantom!?"
"I lost my match."
"You fought with a broken arm!?"
"Mhm! Overcoming insurmountable odds is a staple of heroism! But I don't think I would have beaten my opponent even if I had both arms. She was a real demon!"
"They were that good?"
"Yep! She's earned her title of the Strongest Curator."
"The Strongest Curator?" Jessie's skill was unthinkable before I saw it. But them being beaten by someone whose strength is above all other Curators? Now I feel a bit disappointed I couldn't see their match for myself.
"Can Numbers 27 and 8 come to Ring #2!?" The woman screeches over the speaker.
I glance back at the number on my chest just to make sure I'm going crazy. "Already! Can I get a second to rest!?"
"The tournament's all about non-stop action! Your rest time is over!" They smack my back, probably trying to encourage me to get excited for the fight.
It's not working...
"I can't beat another guy like that when I'm feeling this exhausted."
"Oh, you're not facing someone like the guy you faced. It's a tournament, it's natural for the people you face later to be better than the foes you had before! And if I remember correctly, Number 2 is the person I just faced!"
"Wait what?" The person Jessie just fought, the strongest Curator in the entire United States. I'm snapping in and out of reality with every blink...
"She's a powerhouse! If you take Antiques out of consideration, her combat skill is best in class!"
A deep pit opens in the base of my stomach. "I don't have a chance against her!"
"No you probably don't."
"Thanks for the encouragement."
"But this is training! The effort's all that matters! And look on the bright side, she's not heartless enough to kill you! As long as you don't piss her off that is."
I still don't think I've fully processed this. I've seen Curators do things that've wrecked entire buildings. They've brought in Antiques that mangled a city. I've been here less than a month and even I've used an Antique that looked like a mini-nuclear bomb! And I'm supposed to face someone stronger than that!?
And not only do I have to fight the most skilled Curator in the country, but I also have to do it when my body feels like it's breaking down piece by piece. If I somehow collect the pieces of myself and limp into that ring... she'll probably kill me with a flick.
I'm sitting this one out.
I plant my roots into my chair, fully intending to forfeit this match, then I see Victoria eyeing me. If I couldn't resist her before the fight, I don't have a semblance of a chance now.
"Damn it, I can barely stand. Give me a minute."
I use my dogged arms to lift myself off the chair. Then, I limp over the spectators in our row and sigh looking down the colossal staircase I need to tread down.
My legs tremble under my injuries, but eventually straighten up as I prepare my mind for the next battle to come. They almost crumble again and again after every step down. The crowd becomes a whisper, my peripheral vision goes dark. The ring is the only thing I see.
I make it up the steps to the ring and my hand hovers over the handle. Do I really have to do this? Do I have to participate in another fight I don't want any part in? One I have no chance of winning?
I look back to see Victoria already sprinting down the aisle to the ring. Something crawls down my spine and shoves me into the ring, slamming it shut to keep the monster out. The strongest Curator can't be as scary as Victoria.
I turn from the stubby demon behind me, shutting the gate behind me.