One hour later, the alloy doors had long since sealed shut.

From the outside, the cell seemed dormant save for the muted thuds and distant booms that pulsed through the reinforced walls.

Inside, it was another story.

Don stood in the center, stripped down to black briefs, his body slick with sweat. Each breath came fast, chest rising and falling in hard rhythm.

His hand dragged once across his brow, flinging moisture aside, but his eyes never left the woman in front of him.

Red Star.

Unlike him, her breathing was steady. Sweat clung to her as well, tracing across her shoulders, chest, and abdomen, but her composure hadn't cracked.

Arms crossed, her gaze stayed pinned on him, one bare foot tapping against the alloy floor with controlled impatience.

"In real battle," she said flatly, "there will be no time to catch the breath."

The sound of her foot tapping carried louder than it should have in the pressure-thickened air.

Don dropped his hand, his jaw tightening.

'It's no use. She's holding back, and I can't match her at all like this.'

The thought bit deep.

Training was one thing—but it stung, having his every move countered and thrown aside, reduced to a warm-up routine for her. He had chosen to fight on base strength alone, telling himself it was the right way to measure himself honestly.

But the result had been a string of humiliations.

He let his voice come out casual anyway. "Good thing we're just sparring then."

His eyes never left hers. Inside, the call was different.

'Beastshift.'

The breath he drew was sharp. Every muscle in his frame tightened in sequence. The shift was subtle, but it ran through him like a coil drawn taut.

Red Star's eyes narrowed. She had studied him enough, seen his fights, felt his presence. That twitch of energy wasn't wasted on her.

Her mind sharpened in an instant.

'Finally getting serious. Good. Show me your raw pow—'

Her instincts cut her thought short. A spike of warning shot down her nerves. Don hadn't moved yet, but her body reacted all the same. She act on it though. She wanted to see.

Don's heel pressed hard into the alloy floor. Metal creaked under it. Then he launched.

The ground shuddered at his push-off as he tore forward.

Red Star scoffed, her lips curling faintly. The fist he drew back was aimed straight for her gut, nothing but brute force behind it.

She clicked her tongue audibly.

'More power, but still no technique. Child's play.'

The blur of his arm filled her sight. She shifted to intercept—

—but the strike vanished.

Her eyes flinched upward at the faint whisper of air brushing across her face. Reflex jerked her head up—and there it was. His other fist. Already there. Already in range.

Her eyes widened. The surprise registered for only a flicker of a second. Then his knuckles drove into her face.

The impact detonated like a cannon. BOOM—!! The room answered with a vicious snap of air, a shockwave tearing outward.

Don braced his feet against the alloy floor, head tucked behind his shoulders as the gale whipped around them, snapping the sweat from his skin.

Red Star didn't resist it. She let the force take her, her body launching back. She tumbled once, hard, before colliding against the far wall.

The alloy groaned beneath the hit, loose sweat scattering from her frame as she slid down, slumping to the floor.

Don stayed where he was. He didn't rush. He straightened, chest still heaving but no panic in his face.

Around him, the conditions of the chamber had long since surpassed human endurance—the heat rippled in visible waves, the weight of the atmosphere pressing down, gravity dragging at every motion. Yet it all seemed to fall away now, background noise to the stillness in his head.

He rolled his shoulders once, stretching his arms, his neck cracking faintly with the motion.

Across the chamber, Red Star stirred, her hand pressing against the alloy floor as she began to rise.

Don's eyes stayed locked on her. His thoughts cut quiet.

'I didn't imagine it, right? When I hit her… she smiled?'

Red Star rose slowly, focus in every movement. Don watched her frame straighten, and whatever flicker of satisfaction he might've felt at finally landing a clean hit dissolved almost instantly.

He knew. He hadn't hurt her.

He narrowed his gaze and let his vision shift. But still, strain, weakness… nothing. Her body read clean. No ruptures, no stressed tissue, not even a flicker of disruption in her flow. She was as fresh as when they'd started.

'Perfectly fit. Untouched.'

Her faint grin had already faded, replaced by something worse. Eagerness. She rolled her neck until a sharp crack echoed through the chamber.

"Da," she said, voice steady, carrying. "Is good. I haven't felt a punch that raw since the simian outbreak in Africa…"

Her eyes locked onto him, the glow in them alive now. Then came the smile—small, sharp-edged.

"That is how I want you to fight. Show me more."

Before the words had even fully left her mouth, her body snapped forward.

To Don's eyes, she blurred—massive frame bending speed into precision. She closed the distance in a breath, giving him no time, no space.

That was the point.

Red Star's reputation wasn't just power—it was control. Every movement carved exact. Brutal, direct, unrelenting.

Her leg cut in low. Don barely caught it. His forearm snapped down, intercepting the kick at his side. The force rattled his bones, vibrating through muscle and marrow, the shock sliding him an inch across the alloy floor.

He didn't get to exhale.

Her other leg launched her upward, pivoting into a vertical strike. The heel whipped up toward his chin with bone-breaking intent.

No time to dodge. His palm shot under his jaw just as her foot connected. BOOM—! The contact hammered his skull, jaw buzzing like a struck bell.

But his grip closed around her leg in the same instant. Fingers dug into hardened muscle. He yanked. Her weight came forward—and his fist drove into her gut.

Thwmp—!

Her body folded, stomach tensing under the blow. And yet—her eyes flared. She took it. Like it fed her.

Then her arms snapped around him. A clinch, brutal and tight, her larger frame crushing his in a grip honed on countless fields.

Every nerve in his body screamed. Instinct cut through thought.

Get out. Now.

His elbows answered before he fully willed them. One snapped back, sharp and hard, hammering into her spine. At the same moment, he released energy from the strike point—raw force channeling into her back.

The reaction was immediate.

Her eyes widened—not in pain exactly, but in shock. Her body flared with memory, a flicker of the time she'd plummeted from the sky, her back slamming earth-first with devastating impact.

Before that echo could fade, Don was already moving. His knee shot up—so fast, she hadn't read the air around him.

Wham—!!

It caught her flush in the face, brutal, clean. Her body lifted from the ground.

Don's eyes burned bright. His telekinesis snapped alive, unseen hands gripping her midair and slamming her back down—krraam—!! The alloy floor rumbled under the force.

"Ghkk—!" Red Star's breath ripped from her throat, a sound closer to pain than she had given him yet.

Don stepped back fast, feet screeching faintly against the slick floor as he created distance. His chest heaved. Sweat flung from his jaw as he steadied his breath.

On the ground, Red Star let out a rasped curse. Her head rolled once against the floor, then she barked out a low laugh between breaths.

"That hurt a little," she admitted, cracking her neck to one side. Her eyes locked on him again, glowing faintly hotter. "You know, malchik… I am beginning to like you."

Her body rose in one smooth motion, all muscle flexing tight as she straightened. She spread her arms, open-handed, like welcoming an embrace.

"Come. Show me more of your raw power."

Her fists closed, knuckles tight, stance braced for war.

Don stood still, face straight, every sense alive under the crushing heat and pressure of the chamber. His thoughts clenched into one word.

'Fuck.'