Fight Night [Almaz]

[Ezekiel]

Apparently the benevolence left her speechless. Zeke found it pleasing, like he could literally see all the little knots and strings of loyalty as they threaded around her and tied her to him. Konstantin Vasiliev was dumb to let this one go. Easily beholden to addiction, eager for a sense of belonging. Some might have been wary of his attention but she simply accepted it, like she had always been longing for that kind of mastery. And he already knew she could fight. Right now she stared up at the holoscreens, face aglow with the seriousness of deliberation. Soon enough she would be up there. He’d let her make that call. He always did when he wanted something from someone. And he had no doubt that she’d want it.

Though Zeke considered Almaz a part of his domain, he had little interest in the actual violence, and no true opinion on whichever bout she picked, though he made an appropriately interested expression. As it happened the name and face she chose was one he recognised. Kasun had once slipped his cage and run riot in the crowd like an animal. These days Oriena was the one to profit from his wins. Small world. Her defense of him against the dirty cop channeler had quite literally brought the roof down and required extensive refurbishment some months prior. Not that he offered the insight to Tatyana. It wouldn’t have meant anything anyway.

Instead he beckoned and led the way to the correct ring – in this case, one of the steel cages. He leaned in to talk as he wove them a path through the crowds, voice just soft enough that she’d have to lean back to hear him over the relentless din. “He has a sponsor to fight here. Reputation or contacts are the only honours in. I hear he’s quite spectacular.”

Zeke was a slender man, yet people seemed to move for him naturally and no one argued against his careful push to the front of the bars. There was tiered seating behind them for those who chose comfort over carnage, and a balcony above for a cleaner view, but he suspected Tatyana would enjoy the heat and adrenaline of close quarters. The screens flashing a constant barrage of fighter stats, results, and highlights, weren't visible from down here. Though they were hemmed in by bodies eager for the fight to come it was strangely intimate. The stench of sweat and blood was already acrid. “Take a look at them both when they come out. Tell me who you think will win.”