That brief second Rey used to gloat, his attention wavering, was all it took for everything to go south. Just as Jett had predicted, Ciara launched her attacks in rapid succession, each one striking with precision. Rey found himself overwhelmed, the illusion of control slipping away as quickly as it had come.
Rey, now lying on the floor, bruised and battered, decided not to push things any further. "Alright, alright, you win. I yield," he conceded, tapping out of the fight, his voice tinged with reluctant acceptance.
"Well, that's a shame. I thought you'd last longer," Ciara remarked, her tone light but carrying a subtle edge.
