The half-moon hung in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the battered forest clearing. Volker stood at the center of the crater he'd created, his body tensing as he stared up at the masked figure before him. The figure, cloaked in mystery, exuded an eerie calm. Volker's brow furrowed as he muttered under his breath, "Who the fuck is that?"
Without hesitation, Volker leaped from the crater, propelling himself straight toward his new opponent. But the masked man—Udo—moved swiftly, jumping out of the way just in time, widening the gap between them.
Volker straightened up, eyeing Udo with suspicion. "I don't feel much vibration from him..." His mind raced as he analysed the situation. "But he managed to pull that boxer out of the way earlier..." His gaze lingered on Udo's mask. Something's off about him.
Finally, Volker addressed the masked figure directly, his voice brimming with arrogance. "I sense almost no vibration from you," he said, stretching his arms lazily. "Just hoping you won't disappoint me like the boxers did."
Udo's voice was calm, almost detached. "Where is he?"
Volker's face twisted in confusion. "Who?"
"The guy who orders you around. He took something pretty valuable from me, and I just want it back."
Volker sighed, his hand casually scratching his eye, clearly unimpressed. "Respectfully, kid, we've taken loads of things from loads of people. Could you be more specific?"
Udo's tone sharpened, a cold edge cutting through his words. "Respectfully, kid, I'm more interested in the Shepherd. I don't speak to sheep."
Volker's expression darkened at the insult. Without warning, he BLITZED to Udo's side, arms poised to seize him. "First-rate hosts are pretty loud these days…"
His hands clutched Udo's midsection, preparing to lift him off the ground in one swift move. But as Volker pulled, expecting the usual satisfying heft of his opponent, something surprising happened. Udo's stance rooted deep, his toes planted firmly into the earth. He leaned forward, countering Volker's strength with technique alone.
"What the—?" Volker grunted, his muscles straining.
In one seamless movement, Udo twisted, using Volker's momentum against him. With a well-placed grip on Volker's back, Udo lifted him and tossed him over his shoulder. Volker tumbled across the ground, completely caught off guard.
Volker scrambled back to his feet, dusting himself off as he stared at Udo, bewilderment clear on his face. "That… that wasn't power… that was all technique", he thought, his interest piqued.
He clenched his fists, feeling the adrenaline surge through his veins. "Let's try this again..." he growled before blitzing forward once more. This time, he rapidly slid low, aiming to grab Udo by the legs for a takedown.
But Udo was quicker. He flipped over Volker with effortless agility, grabbing him by the gut mid-air. In one fluid motion, Udo hurled Volker away again, sending him skidding across the dirt like a ragdoll.
Volker's astonishment grew as he scrambled to his feet, the dirt and sweat mixing on his skin. His heart pounded, not just from the fight but from the realization dawning on him.
"Is this guy... a better wrestler than me?"
Volker's muscles tensed as he lunged toward Udo, but time and time again, Udo effortlessly dodged, deflecting each of Volker's brute-force grappling attempts with unmatched agility and skill.
Each time Volker attempted to lock Udo into a wrestling hold, Udo would slip away like water, countering with throws and grapples of his own. The rapid movements blurred as Udo danced around Volker, never allowing him to gain an advantage.
And then, with blinding speed, Udo grabbed Volker by the back in an expertly executed hold. Volker's eyes widened as Udo lifted him with surprising ease, slamming him into the ground with a suplex—the first of seven consecutive times. Each impact sent tremors through the earth, shaking the surrounding debris and dust. But despite the force, Volker's body seemed almost unaffected. After the seventh suplex, Udo flipped backward, distancing himself.
Panting slightly, Udo glared at Volker, expecting to see some sign of exhaustion or injury. But Volker, lying on his back, stared up at the moonlit sky, completely unfazed.
Udo cursed under his breath, frustration creeping into his tone. "Shit! I can't fucking damage him!"
Without missing a beat, Volker effortlessly hopped to his feet, brushing off the dust from his clothing like it was nothing. Udo's eyes narrowed in annoyance. His host rank was betraying him.
"This guy… when it comes to pure wrestling… I've never seen anything like it." Volker's voice carried a grudging respect. But there was something else—an undeniable recognition of Udo's extraordinary skill.
He cracked his neck and stretched his arms, clearly unbothered by the relentless assault he had just endured. "But he's still a first-rate, so there's no power behind his attacks." Volker's eyes narrowed as he sized Udo up once again. "But still, his speed and precision… they're way higher than any first-rate host I've fought before."
Volker stretched his arms out, his joints cracking audibly in the still night air. The casual demeanor hadn't left his face, though the weight of his presence pressed down on the battlefield. He flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up for a casual stroll rather than a fight.
"I'll let you have this one," Volker said, his voice carrying a strange sort of detached respect. "You're obviously the better wrestler."
His tone shifted, and with it, the air around him. His eyes darkened, a predator's gaze locking onto its prey. There was a flicker of something dangerous in his posture, something Udo immediately recognized as the signal that things were about to get far worse.
"Let's see how versatile your wrestling can be, though," Volker said, the words like a challenge he was all too eager to enforce.
Udo, breathing heavily but focused, dropped into his stance once more, his body low and agile, ready for the next assault. His eyes tracked Volker's every movement with intense focus. He could feel the tension rising, the hum of Volker's energy thickening the air.
"Here he comes…"
Volker moved like lightning, blitzing forward before leaping into the air with an explosive front downward kick aimed squarely at Udo. At the last possible moment, Udo threw himself out of the way, barely dodging the attack as Volker's foot slammed into the ground, shattering the earth beneath him with a thunderous crash. Dust and debris shot into the air, briefly obscuring Volker's form.
But Udo had no time to celebrate the narrow escape. The dust hadn't even settled when Volker burst from the cloud with terrifying speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. Before Udo could react, Volker's fist came crashing into his mask with the force of a freight train.
The blow sent Udo flying, his body skidding across the dirt before he scrambled to his feet, his mask now cracked from the force.
Volker was already in front of him again.
Udo's instincts kicked in, and he raised his arms in a defensive posture, trying to parry the onslaught. But this time, it was different. Volker's strikes came at him with frightening precision and power, each blow a calculated assault that left little room for escape.
"These strikes..." Udo thought, his mind racing as he struggled to fend off the attack. "They're harder to parry than Alko's... his punches... they actually have skill behind them!"
It was true. While Udo had sparred with Alko numerous times before and had grown accustomed to his brute force style of fighting, Volker's technique was on another level entirely. Each punch, each kick, was infused with not just raw strength but an understanding of movement and timing that made them nearly impossible to deflect.
Volker's fist shot out again, a brutal jab aimed at Udo's midsection. Udo tried to twist his body out of the way, but the punch connected just below his ribs, sending a wave of pain shooting through his body. He gasped for air, feeling the wind knocked out of him, but Volker wasn't done.
A rapid right hook followed by a knee to the chest left Udo staggering backward. He barely had time to raise his guard before Volker unleashed another flurry of punches, each one faster and more precise than the last. Udo blocked a few, deflecting them just enough to avoid catastrophic damage, but the ones that got through—each blow rattled him, shaking his core.
Volker's strikes were relentless, his fists and feet moving in perfect coordination, creating a barrage of attacks that Udo couldn't keep up with.
"How... how is he this fast?" Udo thought, wincing as another punch slipped through his defences and grazed his cheek, drawing blood.
Volker wasn't giving him any room to breathe, his expression cold and calculating as he continued the beatdown. A brutal kick landed on Udo's side, sending him stumbling. Another punch crashed into his forearm as he tried to block, sending a painful shockwave up his arm.
Udo stumbled, his mask now showing multiple cracks from the force of Volker's relentless attack. The agility and finesse with which Volker fought had overwhelmed him, leaving Udo struggling to keep up. The once-slick wrestler now found himself on the defensive, unable to match the speed and precision of Volker's MMA prowess.
"I can't keep letting him control the pace like this... I need an opening..."
But Volker gave no such mercy. He suddenly feinted with his left, forcing Udo to flinch, and followed with a devastating right uppercut that caught Udo under the chin, lifting him off the ground and sending him crashing into the dirt with a heavy thud.
Volker sauntered toward Udo, each step deliberate, his arrogance tangible in the air. Udo's body lay limp on the ground, battered from the relentless barrage. Volker grabbed him by the neck, lifting him with ease, and the air around them grew tense, heavy with finality.
"Now then," Volker's voice dripped with casual cruelty, "let's see who the genius wrestler under the mask is." His fingers stretched toward the edge of Udo's mask, ready to pull it off.
But before Volker could finish his sentence, his eyes suddenly widened. A sharp pain shot through his gut, doubling him over as he instinctively clutched his stomach.
"What the—?" he muttered, looking down to see a boxing glove pressing into his gut. Troy stood there, smirking, his glove still poised for the follow-up.
"You thought we were done, you prick?" Troy's voice oozed with defiance.
Volker barely had time to react before Troy darted out of the way of his wild kick. The boxer's speed was nothing short of impressive, but the real shock came when Trevor suddenly appeared from the side, CLOBBERING Volker with a devastating punch. The impact sent Volker flying through the air, his body zooming across the battlefield, crashing into the debris of the crater he'd made earlier.
Troy, still standing coolly, smirked and gave a small nod. "Clean."
Udo, struggling, pushed himself to his feet, his body aching from the relentless assault. As he regained his footing, he saw the brothers standing before him, an odd sense of camaraderie hanging in the air. Troy leaned over to Trevor, his voice low but clearly audible in the moment of reprieve.
"Yo, Trev! Ain't that the brudda from the auction?"
Trevor, eyes still locked on the distant figure of Volker trying to pick himself up, asked Udo a simple question without turning his head.
"Yo. Can we trust you?"
Udo stood there, his heart racing as memories flashed before his eyes. Images of his dark past, the weight of his actions as The Fiend: Kenny Grieves' lifeless body, the massacre of Squad Barclay, the pain in Kelly Grieves' face. He recalled his baptism with Izaak, the deep conversation with Joseph Abrams, and Squad 0 standing by his side through it all. The turmoil of his existence, balancing the weight of who he was and who he wanted to become, surged through him.
He straightened his back, inhaling deeply, as if the act alone could push the ghosts of his past further away. His hand clenched into a fist as he stepped forward, standing just behind the brothers, but still resolute, his stance a silent declaration.
"You can," Udo said, his voice low but filled with determination. He stood ready, the fight far from over, but this time, not alone.