Chapter 280: What trap?
Back at the Undercity, Shadow and Whisper made their way through the dimly lit streets toward the Rusty Nail, their footsteps echoing in perfect synchronization against the metal grating.
"....remember that sad excuse for a fighter, Rivera?" Shadow's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Lost his last six matches to rookies. His tract record is embarrassing."
"Oh! Oh! I remembered!" Whisper replied. Her eyes widened with delight as she remembered Rivera face-plant into the barrier field. "By Raxus's crooked teeth, he fights like a drunk Nexulian slug! And he wants to challenge Zafron?"
Shadow snorted, staring at the next name on the list of possible opponents. "Almost as bad as Titanium. Remember him? Kept boasting about his augmented skeleton until that sewage worker knocked him out with a rusty pipe."
"Stop!" Whisper collapsed into giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. "That was beautiful! He spent three cycles in med-bay getting his jaw unwired. Still talks with a whistle!"
"At least they're entertaining." Shadow said as she folded the paper and slid it into her pocket. "I can't wait for Zafron against, Steele... his record's not half bad."
Whisper's manic grin softened into something more calculating. "Two wins since arrival. Clean fights, decent technique." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Crowds liked his last match. Very... efficient."
"Efficiency sells almost as well as brutality," Shadow nodded, studying the footage. "Look at his footwork here. He's had training, real training. Not just prison yard brawling."
"Ooh, and imagine the betting spread!" Whisper's eyes lit up. "New blood versus the undefeated monster! The odds would be delicious." Her face split into that familiar chaotic grin. "We could make a fortune just on the side action."
Shadow's predatory smile returned. "Might be worth arranging after all. At least he won't embarrass himself like Rivera the Slug over there."
"Hey! Don't insult slugs like that!" Whisper protested, but her eyes danced with mischief. "They at least leave an interesting trail when they fall!"
As they approached closer, the usual mix of laughter and shouts that spilled from the building or whatever they call it, was conspicuously absent.
"Well, that's not suspicious at all," Whisper muttered, bouncing on her toes. "Where's our favorite little socialite's endless stream of giggles?"
Shadow's eyes narrowed. "Maybe they're not home?"
"On fight night? Please." Whisper snorted. "Matilda never misses a chance to celebrate her champion's victories. By Raxus's sweaty—"
"Shh," Shadow held up a hand as they approached the entrance. Through the grimy windows, she caught a glimpse of movement – a flash of Zafron's distinctive silhouette.
The door opened before they could knock, revealing Zafron's towering frame. His casual stance couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders.
"Shadow and Whisper," he said smoothly, stepping aside to let them in. "What took you so long?"
[Oh look, it's the terrible twosome,] Calista chimed in his head. [Better check if they brought any uninvited guests.]
'Already on it,' Zafron thought, his eyes scanning the street behind them as they entered.
"Just hanged around the Fighting Pit to find worthy opponents for you, as usual." Shadow said as they walked in.
Whisper scanned around, noticing the silence. "What, no victory party?" She bounded in, throwing herself onto the nearest chair. "Usually this place is louder than a Nexulian mating ritual by now."
"Sometimes quiet is nice," Zafron replied, closing the door with deliberate care. "Even champions need their rest."
[Yeah, that didn't sound suspicious at all,] Calista snickered. [Why not just hang a sign that says 'Definitely Not Hiding From Anyone'?]
Shadow's gaze swept the room, taking in Matilda perched tensely on the couch and – surprisingly – Sakura still lingering by the window.
"Well, well," Shadow's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Isn't someone supposed to be back in their own territory by now? Don't tell me our champion's charm is that irresistible."
Sakura's hand tightened imperceptibly on her glass. "Zafron and Matilda's company is preferable to my empty house."
"I insisted she stay," Matilda added quickly – perhaps too quickly. "After such an exciting match, who wants to be alone?"
"Speaking of exciting matches," Whisper sat up straighter, her eyes gleaming. "That finishing move? Pure poetry! The way you just..." She made an explosive gesture with her hands. "Boom! Splat!
Beautiful!"
Zafron managed a tight smile. "Glad you enjoyed the show."
[Oh yes, do let's discuss your violent tendencies in excruciating detail,] Calista drawled. [It's not like we have more pressing concerns. Like, oh, I don't know, the murderous enforcer on our tail?]
"Show?" Shadow lounged against the wall. "That was art. And speaking of art..." Her eyes locked onto Zafron's. "We've lined up your next masterpiece."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
"Not interested," Zafron said flatly. "I need time to recover."
Whisper cackled. "Recovery? Please! You heal faster than a regenerating crystal cluster. Besides," her grin turned sharp, "we've already arranged everything."
[They did WHAT?] Calista's voice rose in alarm.
"You had no right," Zafron growled, an edge of genuine anger in his voice. "I choose my own fights."
"Do you, though?" Shadow pushed off the wall, moving with predatory grace. "Because correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that why you keep us around? To handle the business end while you focus on the fun part?"
"The fun part being turning people into modern art installations," Whisper added helpfully.
Matilda leaned forward. "Perhaps we should discuss this another time? When everyone's had a chance to rest?"
"Oh, but this can't wait," Shadow purred. "You see, our new friend is quite eager to meet you in the ring."
"New friend?" Zafron's voice was carefully neutral.
"Mm-hmm. Fresh meat. Just arrived in our lovely little slice of hell." Whisper bounced in her seat. "Though I have to say, for a newbie, he seems awfully confident."
[Well, shit,] Calista muttered. [Want to bet on which trigger-happy enforcer that might be?]
Zafron's silence spoke volumes.
Shadow's eyes narrowed at his lack of response. "What's wrong, champion? Not feeling up to showing a rookie the ropes?"
"I just don't see the point," Zafron said carefully. "New fighters rarely last long enough to make it interesting."
[Unlike certain persistent ones who just won't take a hint and die,] Calista added dryly.
"Oh, I think this one might surprise you," Shadow's smile didn't reach her eyes. "He seems quite... determined."
Matilda's glass clinked too loudly as she set it down. "Surely there are more suitable opponents? Someone with more experience?"
"More suitable than watching our champion put an upstart in his place?" Whisper sprawled dramatically. "Where's the fun in that?"
Sakura's voice cut through the tension. "The Fighting Pits have their own pride. Refusing a challenge isn't done."
"Exactly!" Whisper pointed at her. "See? She gets it!"
Shadow watched the subtle exchanges of glances between Zafron, Matilda, and Sakura. Something was definitely off.
"Well," Shadow straightened, "we just came to deliver the news. The match is set for two days from now." She moved toward the door. "Try not to disappoint your fans."
"By Raxus's infected liver, it's going to be epic!" Whisper bounded after her sister.
The door closed behind them with a final-sounding click.
Zafron waited until their footsteps faded before moving to the window, watching until the twins disappeared around a corner.
[Well, that was about as subtle as a rampaging Nexulian battle-beast,] Calista observed. [Think they bought our totally-not-suspicious act?]
thank-you-for-using-NovelFire
"Not a chance," Zafron muttered.
"How did he find them?" Matilda paced the room. "Or did they find him? Either way, this is bad. I suggest you just don't show up for the fight."
"No, it's an opportunity," Sakura countered. "Better to face him in the ring than wait for him to strike from the shadows."
[She's got a point,] Calista admitted. [At least in the Pits, you know where he is and what he's planning. More or less.]
"I'll be ready," Zafron's fingers curled into fists, a faint sheen of protective slime already gathering. "He won't catch me off guard again."
******
Meanwhile, several streets away, the twins walked in thoughtful silence.
"Did you see how he checked behind us?" Whisper finally asked. "Like he was expecting company."
"Mm." Shadow nodded. "And that sweat on his brow? Our boy doesn't sweat after fights. Not even close ones."
"And the way they all tensed up when we mentioned the newbie?" Whisper spun to walk backwards, facing her sister. "By Raxus's hairy—"
"Don't finish that," Shadow warned. "But yes, I saw it. Something's definitely connecting those two."
"Question is, what?" Whisper resumed walking normally. "Think they crossed paths before?"
"Maybe." Shadow's eyes gleamed in the crystal-light. "But whatever it is, I have a feeling this match is going to be very... educational."
"Educational?" Whisper cackled. "Sister dear, it's going to be absolutely magnificent! Did you see Steele's eyes when we mentioned 'Slimy'? Pure murder!"
"And Zafron's reaction to a 'newbie' challenger?" Shadow smirked. "Pure recognition."
"Oh, this is going to be better than that time we sold fake identity chips to those Collector agents!"
"Much better," Shadow agreed. "Because this time, we get to watch the fireworks from a safe distance."
The twins shared a knowing look as they disappeared into the perpetual twilight of Area 52, their matching grins promising chaos to come.
Back at the Rusty Nail, Zafron stood at the window long after the twins had gone.
[You know it's a trap, right?] Calista's voice was uncharacteristically serious.
"Of course it's a trap," Zafron murmured. "Question is, who's trapping who?"
Behind him, Matilda and Sakura exchanged worried glances, but no one had an answer. The only certainty was that in two days, the Fighting Pits would witness a match unlike any before – a dance of secrets and violence where the true prize wasn't victory, but survival.
And somewhere in the depths of Area 52, an Enforcer nursed his wounds and smiled, knowing his target is closer than ever.