Disclaimer : I don't own Dead or Alive ,Virtual Fighters or Harry Potter.
Chapter 1: Get ready Fight
The blaring noise of the plane's engines was deafening, and the air inside felt thick with panic. as Harry, gripped the armrests tightly, the cold sweat slicking his palms. His stomach twisted in knots as the turbulence grew stronger, and the sounds around him turned to an incoherent buzz. His aunt Petunia, sitting next to him, was clutching her seatbelt with white-knuckled intensity, her face pale as she muttered prayers under her breath.
Harry glanced around the cabin, seeing the faces of other passengers—most were just as frightened, while others were in shock, too stunned to react. He was no different, trapped in a nightmare, his heart racing in time with the shaking plane. A bolt of lightning flashed through the clouds, illuminating the chaos outside, and in that moment, the world seemed to stand still.
Suddenly, a violent jolt sent the plane into a nose dive, a sickening feeling in Harry's gut as gravity took control. Screams echoed through the cabin, but Harry could barely hear them over the noise of the engines whirling and the metal creaking under the strain. The walls of the plane groaned as if the entire aircraft was about to tear apart.
The world around him twisted into a blur of light and darkness, and then everything went silent. He was weightless, suspended in a void. The next thing he knew, there was an impact—hard and fast, slamming him against his seat. His body jerked violently, then came to a sudden halt, as the crash violently tore the plane apart.
Harry didn't remember much after that. There were flashes of movement, voices shouting, but they were muffled. He felt pain, sharp and jagged like thousands of needles piercing his skin, but his mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. A second impact, another explosion, and then it was all darkness.
Fast forward to the present The arena was electric with anticipation, the audience on the edge of their seats. The air smelled of sweat and excitement, the ring illuminated in bright lights as the crowd cheered for their champions. In the center of the ring stood Jenna "The Dominator" Carter, the current wrestling champion. She had a reputation for being ruthless in and out of the ring, and tonight, she was clearly in the mood to make her presence known.
Jenna was a towering woman, well over six feet tall, with a muscular build that spoke volumes about her strength and power. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back, and she wore a tight-fitting black leather outfit that hugged her powerful frame. Her eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the crowd as she raised the championship belt high above her head, a smug smile tugging at her lips.
"Listen up, you pathetic excuses for fans," Jenna's voice echoed through the microphone, her tone dripping with condescension. "You all cheer for anyone, even the weakest of competitors, but deep down, you know none of them have what it takes to be in my league. I'm the greatest champion this sport has ever seen, and none of you have the guts to admit it."
The crowd began to boo, the energy in the arena shifting from excitement to anger. But Jenna didn't care. She basked in their contempt, feeding off their frustration.
"I'll make this simple for all of you," Jenna continued, pacing around the ring with the belt still clutched in her hand. "If there's anyone here with enough guts to face me, then come on down. Let's see if anyone has what it takes to shut me up."
The crowd went silent, waiting for someone to step forward. Jenna's eyes scanned the audience, a challenging smirk spreading across her face.
Then, almost as if the air had thickened with tension, a figure stepped forward from the shadows near the entrance. The crowd's murmurs began to grow louder, and the camera zoomed in to reveal her opponent.
It was a young man with a well-defined, symmetrical face with an angular jawline that adds a mature and confident edge to his youthful appearance. His hair is medium-length, black,layers around his face, his vivid emerald eyes gleaming with intensity under the harsh lights. He was dressed in a simple black hoodie, dark pants, and combat boots, his athletic build evident even beneath his casual attire. The boy's face remained calm and focused, his steps steady, as though he were walking toward a training session rather than a wrestling challenge.
He reached the ring, ignoring the ropes as he easily hopped up to the apron and slid between the ropes into the squared circle. His piercing gaze met Jenna's, unwavering and confident, while she sized him up with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, well," Jenna said, her voice laced with mock amusement. "What's this? A little lost puppy looking for a fight? You think you can shut me up? You don't look like much."
The young man's face didn't change. He stood tall and unflinching, as if her words were nothing more than the noise of a passing breeze. His fists clenched, and the air between them seemed to crackle with energy. The crowd waited, breathless, as the tension between the two fighters thickened.
"You've made a mistake," The young man finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying the weight of a threat. "I'm not here to shut you up. I'm here to show you what true strength looks like."
(Dead or Alive 1 Music-The New Century (Opening Movie)
Jenna let out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the tension in the arena. "Is that so? Let's see if you can back up those words, pretty boy. I'm going to destroy you in this ring, and then maybe you'll think twice before challenging someone like me."
With a sudden move, Jenna rushed at the young man, attempting to land a powerful right hook. But The young man was faster, stepping to the side and expertly dodging the blow with a smooth counter. His body moving like a fluid machine, effortless in its precision.
He grabbed Jenna's arm in a smooth motion, using her momentum against her, and flipped her over his shoulder. The crowd gasped as Jenna hit the mat with a resounding thud. She quickly scrambled to her feet, her face twisted in rage.
"Not bad, kid," she snarled, wiping a trickle of blood from her lip. "But you're not going to win this that easily."
The young man didn't speak. He simply moved into a fighting stance, his body poised, ready for the next strike. The crowd roared in excitement, their anticipation building as the battle between the two competitors was about to reach its peak.
Jenna's eyes burned with fury as she circled the young man , her fists clenched, ready for retaliation. The crowd was buzzing with excitement, their cheers and jeers mixing into a cacophony of anticipation. The young man stood his ground, unflinching, as if he were an immovable rock in the center of the ring. He knew Jenna wouldn't back down easily, and he was prepared for whatever came next.
"You're fast, I'll give you that," Jenna snarled, her voice laced with venom. "But speed won't save you from what's coming."
With a guttural growl, she lunged at the young man , throwing a series of wild haymakers. Her attacks were fast and brutal, but the young man's instincts kicked in. He ducked and weaved with precision, each movement flowing effortlessly from one to the next, as if he were dancing in a well-rehearsed routine. He countered with a low, sweeping leg kick that connected with Jenna's calf, causing her to stagger.
Jenna growled in frustration but quickly regained her balance. "You think you can embarrass me in front of all these people?" she roared. "I'm the Dominator for a reason!"
Her next move was an attempt to corner him against the ropes. She charged forward with alarming speed, her massive body slamming into him with the force of a freight train. The young man hit the ropes hard, his back arching as the impact rattled him. The crowd gasped, but The young man wasn't done yet.
With incredible agility, he used the ropes to rebound and propel himself into a devastating knee strike to Jenna's abdomen. The air whooshed from her lungs as she stumbled backward, clutching her midsection. But even winded, Jenna wasn't about to let up. She gritted her teeth and lunged at him again, this time with a vicious elbow aimed at his face.
The young man saw the move coming, his eyes locking on the trajectory of her attack. He sidestepped just in time, letting her momentum carry her forward. With a swift, fluid motion, he gripped her arm and twisted it behind her back, locking her in a painful armbar.
Jenna screamed in frustration, her face turning red as she struggled against the hold. "You little—" she began, but the young man cut her off.
"Don't underestimate me," he said quietly, his voice firm. "This isn't about showing off or proving anything. It's about strength, real strength."
The crowd was on the edge of their seats, watching in stunned silence as Alexander held Jenna in the armbar. She writhed and bucked, but the hold was unyielding. It was clear now that this fight wasn't going to be as easy as Jenna had thought.
Desperation flickered in Jenna's eyes. She knew if she didn't break the hold soon, she would lose. Summoning every ounce of her strength, she drove her elbow into the mat, pushing herself up and out of the armbar. It took every last bit of her power, but she finally broke free, rolling out of the young man's grip and scrambling to her feet.
Panting heavily, Jenna shot him a furious look. "You think you've won, huh?" she spat, wiping the blood from her lip once more. "Well, I'm just getting started."
He didn't respond. Instead, he took a step back, waiting for her next move. His body was calm, his breathing steady, every muscle poised for the next attack. He knew he was in control, and he wasn't going to let Jenna's bravado throw him off his game.
Jenna lunged again, her movements more deliberate this time, less reckless. She feinted a right hook, then delivered a powerful spinning backfist. But he was ready. He ducked low, sweeping beneath her attack, and as Jenna's arm flew past him, he lashed out with a sharp uppercut to her jaw.
The punch landed with a resounding crack, and Jenna's head snapped back. Her knees buckled for a moment, and she staggered, a dazed look in her eyes. The crowd erupted into cheers, as he stood tall, unrelenting in his focus. Jenna was stunned, but she wasn't finished yet.
Her face twisted with rage, and she let out a scream, charging at him with wild abandon. She was furious now, her pride wounded, her strength desperate. But he was calm, too calm, as he sidestepped once again, this time grabbing her around the waist and executing a flawless German suplex.
Jenna slammed hard into the mat, the impact reverberating through the arena. She lay there for a moment, dazed and gasping for breath. The crowd was electric, some in awe, others in disbelief. He had taken everything Jenna could throw at him and had not only survived, but was now on the verge of victory.
Jenna slowly pushed herself up, but he didn't give her a chance to recover. With quick precision, he closed the distance, delivering a swift knee to her ribs. Jenna crumpled again, her breath hitching. She was battered, bruised, and on the verge of collapse.
"This ends now," The young man said, his voice low and calm.
He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. The crowd went quiet, sensing the end was near. With one final surge of energy, The young man lifted Jenna into the air, his muscles straining as he hoisted her over his shoulder. The audience gasped as he slammed her down in a vicious powerbomb, the impact shaking the entire ring.
Jenna lay still, completely incapacitated. The referee rushed to check on her, and after a moment of hesitation, he signaled to the crowd, declaring The young man the winner.
The arena erupted into deafening cheers. He stood tall in the center of the ring, his chest heaving with exertion. He had done it. Not only had he shut Jenna up, but he had also proven that true strength was more than just size and power—it was about resilience, precision, and unshakable determination.
Jenna's reign as champion had come to an end, and the crowd knew that they had just witnessed something truly extraordinary.
As The young man stood tall in the center of the ring, basking in the roaring cheers of the crowd, the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting a dramatic glow over the squared circle. The energy in the room was electric, but amidst the excitement, a shadowy figure perched silently in the upper levels of the arena went unnoticed by the exuberant fans.
The figure was cloaked in darkness, their form obscured by a long black coat that seemed to blend into the shadows around them. A faint glimmer of light reflected off their sharp, piercing eyes, which were fixed intently on The young man. Their gaze was cold and calculating, as if analyzing every movement the boy made, every calculated breath he took.
The shadowy figure leaned slightly forward, their posture relaxed yet predatory, like a wolf observing its prey from the safety of the forest. A gloved hand rested on the railing, and their lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk.
"Interesting," the figure murmured under their breath, their voice low and smooth, almost a whisper lost in the sea of cheers. "So much power… yet so much restraint. He's even more promising than I thought."
As the young man exited the ring, his focus still sharp and his demeanor calm despite the overwhelming noise around him, the figure remained motionless, tracking his every step. They were studying him, dissecting his actions as if piecing together a puzzle.
A flicker of motion caught the figure's eye. One of the arena's security guards walked nearby, seemingly doing a routine check of the area. But the moment the guard's gaze swept toward the shadowy figure, the figure seemed to melt into the shadows, vanishing entirely.
Down below, the young man made his way through the backstage area, unaware of the unseen eyes that had been watching him.