Just as the semifinals were about to begin, Kendrick returned.
He moved quietly, sliding into the seat beside Zephany as if he’d just stepped out for a mont. His face was calm—more relaxed than before—and there was a faint ease in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. Zephany glanced at him, her brows slightly raised in curiosity.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
Kendrick nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah. I am."
She didn’t press further. But this ti, the shift she felt wasn’t heavy. It was lighter, easier. Like sothing had finally settled inside him.
The host stepped forward, microphone in hand, his voice booming. "Ladies and gentlen, the final match of—"
Then a different voice echoed through the arena.
"I have evidence of illegal activity tied to this tournant," Kendrick said, rising from his seat.
All eyes turned to him.
"So participants have used substances that go against competition rules and basic human safety."
Gasps rippled across the crowd. Confusion. Murmurs.
Above them, the arena’s massive screen flickered, then blazed to life. Kendrick’s Archive link had overridden the broadcast feed. Photos appeared. A logo. Injector pens. Biotric readouts from his own scan.
"You want a fair fight?" Kendrick said, his voice steady. "Then it starts with the truth."
Chaos followed. Officials scrambled toward the stage. Sponsors began whispering from their booths. Sowhere, soone shouted for security.
Then, a voice cut through the noise.
"Due to an internal challenge registered monts ago, Kendrick Montclair has been added to the final match. As a contestant."
The arena went still.
Zephany stood slowly, her eyes wide. "Kendrick... what did you do?"
He didn’t look at her. His gaze was locked on the giant screen.
"I didn’t sign up," he muttered. "But The Archive clearly did."
The last words hung in his throat.
In the far corner of the arena, a man in a hooded coat remained still. His eyes, deep-set and unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood, never left Kendrick. Then slowly, a grin crept across his face.
He stepped forward.
People gasped as he walked toward the ring, removing the hood.
The crowd reacted in bursts.
"Wait... is that—?"
"No way. That’s Junas Lucian!"
"It can’t be! He hasn’t competed in ages."
"That’s Kendrick Montclair’s old rival. The one who took over after Kendrick vanished."
"Junas... I thought he retired."
"Nah. He won everything. Every tournant after Kendrick left. But he never seed happy."
"He always said the only fight that ever mattered to him was with Kendrick."
"They fought years ago. Junas lost three tis. Swore he’d win the next."
"And then Kendrick disappeared. Just like that."
"He waited. Trained. Kept fighting. But it was never the sa."
"Now Kendrick’s back... and they’re about to fight again. This is insane."
Kendrick stared at Junas in silence. He stood up slowly, fists at his sides, breath steady.
He began to step forward.
Zephany grabbed his arm gently.
"Do you really need to fight him?" she asked, her voice soft, almost trembling.
She glanced toward Junas. That man was built like steel—broad, sharp-eyed, terrifying even from afar. Kendrick... he looked gentle. Kind. Maybe even a little fragile. Not weak. Just not the sa kind of force.
She bit her lip. He doesn’t look ready. I an... not for that. Not for him.
Kendrick looked at her.
Then he saw it.
The worry in her eyes.
For a second, he hesitated. Then he nodded slowly.
"I need to," he said.
Zephany let out a quiet breath, her hand dropping.
She didn’t like this. At all. But she knew she couldn’t stop him.
She wanted to. If she could step into the ring herself, she would’ve. But that wasn’t an option. She had to trust him.
"Then... just be careful," she said, looking down, barely eting his eyes.
Kendrick gave a small smile. "You’ll be cheering for , right?"
She nodded. "Loudly. In my head."
Kendrick laughed under his breath. Then he reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. Her eyes widened at the gesture, but she didn’t pull away.
"Thanks, Zeph," he said.
"You better win," she murmured, cheeks slightly pink.
He didn’t respond, just gave her one last look before turning and heading to the ring.
The mont Kendrick’s foot hit the platform, the crowd roared.
People stood, clapping, shouting, overwheld.
The forr unbeatable champion versus the one who rose in his absence.
Who would win?
"This is it!" the announcer bood. "The match of the decade! Junas Lucian versus Kendrick Montclair."
Kendrick stepped into the center, facing Junas across the ring. The two n locked eyes.
No words were exchanged. None were needed.
Junas cracked his knuckles slowly. "Twelve years. I waited twelve years."
Kendrick kept his voice calm. "Then let’s not wait any longer."
From the sidelines, Zephany leaned forward, heart pounding.
"Co on," she whispered. "Please, please be careful."
Cassius appeared beside her out of nowhere, sipping a soda.
"So, uh, I’m guessing you weren’t expecting that," he said with a grin.
Zephany nearly jumped. "Cassius! How—? When did you—?"
"You looked like you needed company," he said, sliding into the seat next to her.
Sophia sat on Zephany’s other side without a word. She gave a small nod, then adjusted her glasses.
The bell rang.
The fight began.
Junas moved fast—faster than anyone expected. But Kendrick didn’t flinch.
He dodged, sidestepped, countered. Clean. Sharp.
Zephany could hardly keep up. Her heart hamred. Every hit that landed, every step they took, every burst of movent—it was too much. For Kendrick, or so she thought.
But Kendrick... he held his ground. Not with brute strength. With control. With focus.
Junas growled between hits. "You haven’t changed. Still slippery. Still quiet."
Kendrick exhaled slowly. "You’ve changed. Stronger. Angrier."
They clashed again.
Junas lunged forward. Kendrick t him—this ti not dodging, but matching force with force.
A gasp rippled through the audience.
Zephany stood, hand over her mouth.
"He’s... holding up," she whispered.
If she only knew that Kendrick was actually controlling his force and just fighting with fifty percent of his strength.
Cassius leaned forward, smiling. "No. He’s not just holding up. He’s fighting and domineering."
Sophia, surprisingly, chuckled. "And Junas is realizing it."
Pia scread from the aisle. "Kick his butt, Kendrick!"
Zephany froze when she heard Pia’s voice. She looked through the crowd and saw her.
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