The grandeur of the Coliseum rose before us, a colossal structure that dominated the heart of New York as a reminder of the magnificence of the Battle Academy. With its elliptical shape, the colossus of bricks and travertine marble stretched majestically, divided into five levels that could house more than 50,000 souls eager to witness glory and defeat.
Upon entering, Neo, Say, and I were swallowed by the electrifying atmosphere of the place. The Coliseum was packed, a sea of students from all years and rankings mixed in a cacophony of voices and expectations. Among them, Hitoriki, the third-year veteran and top 2, boasted an almost regal presence. And there was Elizabeth, the redhead whose contemplative gaze rested on her chin propped on her fist, as if she were assessing the fate of the competitors below.
We found a place in the stands, a strategic point from where the view of the arena unfolded unobstructed. Today's competitors were already positioned, facing each other, the tension between them so palpable it seemed like its own entity. The duel promised to be more than just a fight; it was the kind of confrontation that could become a legend, narrated and retold through the generations of students who would come after us.
The silence that precedes the storm settled in, and all eyes turned to the center of the arena. Destiny was about to be drawn on the sacred ground of the Coliseum, and each one of us knew that, regardless of the outcome, nothing in the Battle Academy would remain the same after today.
In the vastness of the arena, two competitors faced each other, the tension between them so thick it could be cut with a blade. Jigoro Kano, the second-best of the second year, was the embodiment of strength and determination. His black hair, styled in a pompadour that defied gravity, and his dark eyes reflected the intensity of his warrior spirit. His posture, imposing and unshakeable, was a testament to his Asian heritage and rigorous training.
Before him, Miguel, with his almost celestial aura, contrasted sharply with Jigoro. His blond hair and blue eyes, along with an expression of calm and innocence, could deceive the unwary, making him appear harmless. However, for those who knew the Coliseum and its battles, Miguel was recognized as anything but harmless. He was the top one of the second year, an opponent whose tranquility hid a fierce and relentless competitor.
Between them, the judge stood as a beacon of impartiality, ready to initiate the confrontation that would decide who would be the true champion.
In the stands, the anticipation was palpable. Watching Jigoro, I couldn't help but reflect on his importance. Not for the story unfolding before our eyes, but for Neo.
Jigoro was a valuable friend to Neo, someone who represented normality amidst the chaos of superpowers and conflicts. But in the future, a future that Neo has already lived, Jigoro was killed by the anomalies, and Neo, even with all his powers, couldn't save his friend. This loss was a devastating blow to him, a reminder of human fragility and the brutality of the world they live in.
Now, here's the irony of the situation: I, the author, decided that the story needed more tension, more risk. So, I wrote that Jigoro would die again, this time at the hands of Hitoriki, a third-year student, in a duel that promises to be as epic as it is tragic. This wasn't something I did just to add drama; it's to show that Neo's actions have consequences, that his return to the past isn't a simple reset button.
In the future, Neo will have to face one of the most difficult trials of his life. He will have to deal with the pain of losing Jigoro once again and with the pressure of knowing that if he doesn't act differently this time, the future may repeat itself. The fear of failing again will torment him, but he will have no choice but to move forward, because after all, he carries the weight not just of a friend, but of thousands of lives that may depend on his next actions. It's a lonely journey, but a necessary one.
I think that me being here now, this time not as an author, but as someone from this small world. I think that maybe, just maybe, I've been too hard on Neo.
But I think it was these elements that made this particular work of mine stand out. It was something that readers could feel the same weight that Neo carried.
Breaking my train of thought was Say, by my side, asking: "Who do you guys think will win?"
Neo and I, at the same time, answered in unison: "Jigoro."
Realizing our simultaneous response, we exchanged a surprised look, the kind that friends share when they say the same thing at the same time for the first time. "It seems that Nam-Sam here understands me," Neo commented with a smile.
"Okay, but why do you think Jigoro is going to win? Miguel is damn strong," Say insisted, still skeptical.
"Jigoro is the strongest," we answered again together, as if we were reading each other's minds.
Say let out a skeptical "Hmm" and questioned: "Have you been friends for a long time?"
"No, I just met Nam-Sam today," Neo replied, shrugging casually. I agreed with a nod, confirming Neo's answer.
"Hmm," Say murmured skeptically but decided it wasn't worth continuing to question. Her gaze turned to Jigoro, and she asked, "Is he really that strong?"
Neo was about to answer, but I interjected: "Jigoro Kano is a high-level martial artist, specialized in ancient jiu-jitsu."
"Ancient jiu-jitsu was a practical and lethal martial art, focused on real combat. Its techniques included joint locks, throws, strikes, and ground fighting. There were no formal rules, and practitioners trained for life-or-death situations. The mentality was based on the samurai code of conduct, emphasizing efficiency and the minimal use of force."
"Fighting against Jigoro Kano is, without a doubt, a traumatic experience. He is the kind of opponent who, if he manages to grab your arm, the chance of breaking it is 99%. Moreover, his superpower allows him to absorb and redirect the energy of received attacks. Combining this with his ancient jiu-jitsu, which is a practical and lethal martial art focused on real combat and without formal rules, facing him without being a martial arts specialist means that defeat is almost certain."
Say and Neo stared at me, surprised by the flood of information. "I think I understand why he's so strong now," Say commented, while Neo looked at me as if I were an alien, with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
I shrugged and continued: "And Miguel, well, he's not prepared to deal with someone of Jigoro's caliber."