I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

The harsh buzz of their makeshift alarm jolted Steele and Maze awake, their eyes snapping open in unison. Sunlight or something brighter streamed through the grimy window, far brighter than it should have been.

"Shit," Steele growled, scrambling to his feet. "We overslept."

Maze was already moving, her fingers flying as she laced up her boots. "The fight. We can't miss it."

They burst out of their quarters, racing through the winding streets of the Undercity. The usual bustling atmosphere was eerily absent, the pathways nearly deserted.

As they rounded the final corner, they skidded to a halt, momentarily stunned by the sight before them. The area surrounding the Fight Pit was a seething mass of humanity, bodies pressed together in a chaotic tapestry of anticipation and excitement.

"Damn," Maze breathed, her eyes wide. "It's like the whole Undercity showed up."

Steele nodded grimly. "Makes our job... harder. Come on, we... need to get closer."

They pushed their way through the crowd, ignoring the grumbles and curses thrown their way. Elbows jabbed, feet were stepped on, but they pressed on relentlessly until they found themselves near the front of the throng.

A hush fell over the crowd as the match official stepped into the center of the arena, his voice amplified by some unseen technology.

"Ladies and gentlemen, scum and nobility alike," he bellowed, a twisted grin on his face. "Today, we have a treat for you. In one corner, the undefeated champion, the man who's crushed more skulls than you've had hot meals – HammerLock!"

The crowd erupted as a mountain of a man lumbered into the arena. HammerLock lived up to his name, standing well over seven feet tall, his body a mass of corded muscle and crude cybernetic enhancements.

In his hand, he wielded a hammer that looked like it could flatten a tank. His face was a nightmare of scar tissue and metal plates, eyes glowing an unnatural red.

There was no hint of emotion on that terrifying visage, just the promise of violence.

"And his challenger," the announcer continued, "the newcomer who's been making waves, the man they call – SLIMY!"

The cheer that went up as Zafron entered the arena was deafening. Steele and Maze exchanged glances, their target finally in sight.

Zafron looked different from the images they'd studied – muscular, harder, his eyes holding a wariness that hadn't been there before. But it was unmistakably him.

Steele felt his muscles tense, the urge to leap into the arena and grab Zafron nearly overwhelming. But the roar of the crowd reminded him of the futility of such an action. They'd be torn apart before they could take two steps.

"Easy," Maze murmured, sensing his tension. "We wait. We watch."

The announcer raised his arms. "Let the carnage begin!"

HammerLock wasted no time, charging forward with a roar that shook the very air. His hammer swung in a devastating arc, aiming to end the fight before it truly began.

But Zafron was ready. At the last possible moment, he dropped and rolled, the hammer whistling over his head close enough to ruffle his hair. As he came up, his arm shot out, a stream of red slime erupting from his palm.

The slime splattered across HammerLock's face, instantly hardening into a crimson mask. The big man bellowed in rage, clawing at the obstruction with his free hand.

"Oh ho!" the announcer crowed. "Looks like Slimy's living up to his name! But will it be enough to stop the unstoppable HammerLock?"

It wasn't. With a flex of his immense muscles, HammerLock shattered the hardened slime, chunks of red raining down around him. His eyes locked onto Zafron, burning with murderous intent.

What followed was a brutal dance of violence. HammerLock's hammer swung again and again, each blow powerful enough to shatter bone.

Zafron dodged and weaved, using his superior agility to stay just out of reach. But he couldn't dodge forever.

A glancing blow caught Zafron in the ribs, the crack audible even over the roar of the crowd. He stumbled, gasping for air, and HammerLock pressed his advantage.

The hammer came down in an overhead strike aimed squarely at Zafron's skull. At the last second, Zafron managed to form a shield of hardened slime, but the impact still drove him to his knees. Cracks spiderwebbed across the red surface of the shield.

"Ooh, that's gotta hurt!" the announcer cackled. "Is this the end for our slimy friend?"

In the crowd, Steele found himself gripping the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. "Come on," he muttered. "Don't you dare... die here. Not before... I get my hands on you."

Maze shot him a questioning look, but he ignored it, his eyes fixed on the fight.

HammerLock raised his hammer for another devastating blow, but this time Zafron was ready.

He dissolved his cracked shield, the liquid slime flowing around HammerLock's legs and rapidly hardening. The big man's swing went wide as he lost his balance, stumbling awkwardly.

[Not bad, slick,] Calista's voice echoed in Zafron's head. [But you might want to do something about that rib before he pulverizes you.]

Zafron gritted his teeth, using the momentary reprieve to form a thick layer of slime around his torso, providing support for his injured ribs. It wasn't a fix, but it would have to do.

HammerLock roared in frustration, smashing his hammer against the hardened slime around his legs. Cracks appeared, but it held. He raised the hammer again, preparing to bring it down on his own legs if that's what it took to free himself.

But Zafron didn't give him the chance. With a grunt of effort, he formed a massive fist of slime, easily as large as HammerLock's hammer. It shot forward, catching the big man squarely in the face.

The impact was thunderous. HammerLock flew backward, his legs finally breaking free of their red prison. He slammed into the arena wall with enough force to leave a dent in the metal plating.

The crowd went wild, their allegiances shifting as quickly as the tide of battle. "Slimy! Slimy! Slimy!" they chanted.

But HammerLock wasn't done. He staggered to his feet, spitting blood and what looked suspiciously like a tooth. With a bellow of pure rage, he charged again, his hammer describing lethal arcs through the air.

Zafron ducked and weaved, but he was tiring. A blow that would have taken his head off instead grazed his shoulder, tearing a bloody furrow across his skin. Another caught him in the leg, sending him sprawling.

HammerLock loomed over him, hammer raised high. "I'm gonna crush your skull," he growled, his voice a metallic rasp. "Gonna paint this arena with your brains."

Time seemed to slow for Zafron. He could see the hammer starting its descent, could hear the bloodthirsty roar of the crowd. In that moment, a strange calm settled over him.

[Well,] Calista mused, her tone oddly contemplative, [this has been fun. Any last words?]

Zafron's eyes narrowed. "Yeah," he muttered. "Not today."

With a surge of desperate energy, he formed another slime construct. But this time, instead of a shield or a fist, he created a ramp. As HammerLock's hammer fell, it hit the slick red surface and slid off course, missing Zafron by inches and embedding itself in the arena floor.

The big man's momentum carried him forward, and Zafron took advantage. He rolled to his feet and, in a move that drew gasps from the crowd, ran up the slime ramp. At the top, he launched himself into the air, twisting his body to build momentum.

As he came down, he formed another hammer of slime, this one bigger than any he'd made before. It connected with HammerLock's head with a sickening crunch, driving the big man face-first into the arena floor.

The impact shook the entire structure. Dust and small debris rained down from the ceiling. For a moment, everything was silent.

Then HammerLock groaned, tried to push himself up, and collapsed back to the ground, unconscious.

The crowd exploded into cheers, the sound nearly deafening. The announcer was shouting something, but his words were lost in the buzz.

Zafron stood over his fallen opponent, chest heaving, blood dripping from various wounds. He swayed on his feet, looking like he might join HammerLock on the ground at any moment.

The match official rushed into the arena, grabbing Zafron's arm and raising it high. "Your winner, and new champion – SLIMY!"

As the crowd's frenzy reached new heights, Steele and Maze exchanged meaningful glances. Their target had just become the most famous person in the Undercity.

"Well," Maze said dryly, "this complicates things."

Steele nodded grimly. "We need to move fast. Before he disappears into the crowd."

As Zafron stumbled towards the arena exit, Steele's eyes darted around the crowd, looking for any sign of Zafron but that was when a flash of blonde hair caught his attention, high up in the stands.

A woman stood there, her face partially obscured but her posture radiating excitement. Beside her was a man in expensive-looking clothes, his hand resting possessively on her lower back.

"Maze," Steele murmured, nodding towards the couple. "You see... that?"

Maze followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing. "Matilda?"

"Looks like it. And she's not alone." Steele's jaw clenched. "Okay, change... of plans. You follow her, see where she goes... after this.

I'll tail Zafron."

Maze nodded, already moving towards the stairs leading to the upper stands. "Be careful," she called over her shoulder. "He's more dangerous than we thought."

Steele grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving Zafron as the new champion limped out of the arena. The crowd was already starting to disperse, and Steele knew he had to move quickly to avoid losing his quarry.

As he pushed his way through the throng, following the trail of excited whispers and pointing fingers, Steele couldn't shake a growing sense of unease. Something about this whole situation felt off, like he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

But there was no time to dwell on that now. He had a job to do, a target to apprehend. And nothing – not HammerLock, not the adoring crowds, not even Zafron's fighting skills – was going to stop him.

With a final glance back at the now-empty arena, Steele slipped into the shadows of the Undercity, hot on the trail of the man they'd come so far to find.

The hunt was on.

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