As the jumbo-sized man posed his unsettling question, "Fight or death?" confusion and fear engulfed me. In the next moment, he declared, "The harder way it is. I'll take that as FIGHT."
Fight? Me? A normal, simple news reporter? The very notion seemed absurd, something I could never have anticipated in my wildest dreams. Yet, the colossal titan-like figure before me seemed unperturbed as he nonchalantly announced that I would be battling in the Colosseum the following afternoon.
Before leaving, he mentioned that they would release me for a warm-up tonight. Although the morning sun bathed the realm, I couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of foreboding.
But there was something else gnawing at my mind—something I had not felt in a long time. I couldn't understand why I felt so narrow-minded in this moment of crisis.
Amidst the turmoil, I realized that I had omitted a crucial aspect of my story. Back when I was around 15, an extraordinary power awakened within me—a power not as flashy as super speed or strength, but one that transformed my eyesight. My vision surpassed human capabilities, allowing me to perceive all manner of radiation and hidden details. A 360-degree view opened up a world previously invisible to me, except when obstructed by barriers.
Ever since I entered the colossal entrance, an unsettling feeling gripped me, as if something were obstructing my sight. My ability to perceive everything with exceptional clarity had subsided, leaving me feeling strangely normal. It was during this vulnerable state that I failed to notice someone approaching from behind, and before I knew it, I was knocked out.
As my mind wandered in thought, fatigue gradually crept in, and before I knew it, I had succumbed to sleep.
Upon regaining consciousness, I found myself amidst a muddy landscape. The earthly scent permeated the air, and to my surprise, I was no longer restrained by cuffs. They must have assumed I posed no threat. As my vision cleared, an astonishing sight unfolded before me—countless warriors surrounded me, each engrossed in their own activities. It became apparent that they were preparing for the upcoming tournament or fight.
Feeling like an outsider in this foreign realm, I cautiously rose to my feet, uncertain of my role among these diverse fighters. Their appearances varied drastically; some were of colossal proportions, dwarfing even the imposing figure I encountered in prison, while others stood at my height. I even noticed a few who appeared no older than children. It dawned on me that this realm was a melting pot of tribes from across the universe.
As I observed the warriors' training, doubt clouded my mind about participating in the imminent competition. The seriousness and intensity in the air made me question whether I truly belonged in this grand spectacle.
Each warrior had a unique approach to their training; some engaged in spirited sparring with their comrades, while others focused intently on honing their individual skills. Amidst the bustling preparation, I felt adrift, unsure of my purpose in this extraordinary realm.
Determined not to give up without a fight, I headed towards the weapons chamber. Rows of unfamiliar and exotic weapons greeted me, but amidst them, a familiar sight caught my eye – NUN CHUCKS. Memories of my childhood fascination with these weapons resurfaced, and I couldn't resist the urge to pick them up once again. As I began practicing the basic movements, it felt as if I had forgotten everything, but with each passing moment, my muscle memory kicked in, bringing back the joy of my karate classes.
The nun chucks danced around me, an extension of my body that I had not felt in ages. The joy that had accompanied my childhood training returned, and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. The sweat glistened on my forehead, and my breaths came in steady rhythm with the swings of the nun chucks. In that moment, I felt a connection to my younger self, to the dreams and aspirations that had accompanied me through my karate classes. The trials of the day, the looming uncertainty of the tournament, all faded away as I immersed myself in the grace of the nun chucks.
As the training session drew to a close, I set the nun chucks down with a newfound sense of purpose. My hands felt like extensions of my heart, the weapon an integral part of who I was. The little bit of confidence I had gained before now flourished into something stronger, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had a chance to make a stand in the looming tournament.
As I took a moment to catch my breath, a voice interrupted my thoughts, drawing my attention to a figure approaching me. "You sure are pretty good with those sticks attached with chains," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone.
With a touch of irritation, I corrected him, "Those are not some sticks and chains, it's called nun chucks." It seemed like he was teasing me, and I couldn't help but respond with a bit of rudeness.
Undeterred by my retort, he posed an unexpected question, "Wanna spar?" I studied him closely as he walked nearer. He had an average build, a bit taller than me, and sported blonde hair. His armored attire exuded an aura of strength, yet his low-pitched voice was strangely reassuring. Despite the initial chill it sent down my spine, he appeared more approachable than I had anticipated.
"Nah, I don't know how to fight. Unlike you guys, who are participating in the tournament of your own free will, I was forced to participate," I explained, my frustration evident in my voice.
With a calm demeanor, he countered, "Don't sell yourself short. You may not know how to fight in the traditional sense, but you use those nun chucks with elegance. You possess the foundation; all you lack is experience. If you spar with me, I may be able to teach you a thing or two—tricks to confuse your opponents, all tailored to your skill level."
His words carried a hint of encouragement, and despite my reluctance, a spark of curiosity ignited within me. Perhaps there was more to this fighter than met the eye, and if there was even the slightest chance of honing my abilities, I couldn't let it slip away.
He led me to a slightly secluded area, away from the bustling training grounds. Though still within sight of the other warriors, the tranquility of this spot felt strangely comforting.
"Alright, let's get started," he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "You've got some interesting moves with those nunchucks, but I think we can take it up a notch. There was a girl from where I came. She had a unique style that combined offense and defense flawlessly. There are not many weapons that can balance both aspects like nunchucks can. With your potential, we can explore various fighting styles that suit you best."
I couldn't help but be intrigued by his knowledge. "Wow, that's a lot more than just a little bit of information," I replied, genuinely surprised. "I never knew nunchucks could be so versatile. Back when I learned karate as a kid, I mainly used them for self-defense and quick hand movements."
He chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Nunchucks are more than just flashy twirls; they're a deadly art when mastered. Let me show you some techniques that can enhance your skills."
With that, he began demonstrating a series of fluid movements, showcasing how the nunchucks could be used for both offensive strikes and adept defensive maneuvers. As I observed his graceful motions, I felt a newfound appreciation for the weapon I once thought of as a mere childhood fascination.
"Give it a try," he encouraged, handing me my nunchucks. "Remember, it's not just about raw power; finesse and precision are crucial as well."
I took the nunchucks, feeling a surge of determination to make the most of this impromptu training. As I practiced the techniques he showed me, I noticed how my movements became more refined and controlled. It was as if the nunchucks were an extension of my own body, guided by an unseen force.
"Excellent," he nodded approvingly. "You've got the hang of it. With a little more practice, you'll be a force to be reckoned with."
As the training session continued, we exchanged insights and tips, immersing ourselves in the art of wielding the nunchucks. Time seemed to blur, and I forgot the looming specter of the tournament. Instead, I embraced the thrill of learning and the joy of honing my skills.
By the time we finished, the sun had started to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the training grounds. I couldn't help but feel grateful to my unexpected mentor, who had opened my eyes to the true potential of the nunchucks and instilled newfound confidence within me.
"Thank you," I said, sincerely appreciative. "I never thought I'd find someone like you here, willing to help me."
He smiled, his eyes reflecting the fading light. "It's my pleasure. Besides, it's always good to share knowledge and learn from each other. We might come from different realms, but there's much we can gain through cooperation."
As we walked back towards the training grounds, I felt a sense of camaraderie with this enigmatic warrior. In this universe of powerful beings, I had found an unexpected ally who believed in my potential. With the tournament on the horizon, I knew that I would face countless challenges, but with the guidance of my new mentor and the skills I had honed, I was ready to embrace my destiny and forge my own path in this extraordinary realm.