"You want to do what?" Zix'ilit's entire body changes color, his frill flashing warning reds and oranges as he bounces nervously on his spring-loaded feet. "Challenge Team Brute Force? Already? With only three team members?"

  I stand firm, arms crossed, the amplifier gauntlets pulsing faintly with energy that matches my determination. "That's exactly what I want to do."

  We're gathered in our team quarters, the space feeling emptier since Eli's departure but gradually being filled with the energy of our new configuration. Desta sits at her terminal, eyes occasionally flickering with code as she processes information. Sera stands nearby, a small flame dancing between her fingers as she practices control exercises.

  "But-but-but," Zix'ilit stutters, bouncing higher with each syllable, "you just got your equipment! Sera's abilities are barely stabilized! And you're still missing a fourth member!"

  "We don't need a fourth member," I reply, feeling the resonance blade hum in agreement where it hovers at my side. "Not for this."

  Zix'ilit's frill pulses with anxiety. "Those Dornians crushed you last time! They have specialized equipment designed to counter telekinesis! And those hammer weapons? They'd squish you like a bug!"

  I can't help but smile at his concern. "The last time we fought, I was injured from my match with Crusher, had no equipment, and barely understood how Central Arena works." I flex my gauntleted hand, watching the circuitry patterns flare with power. "Things have changed."

  "Statistical analysis of current Team Exodus combat parameters indicates significant enhancement since previous engagement," Desta observes without looking up from her terminal. "Equipment acquisition, ability refinement, and tactical understanding demonstrate exponential improvement curve."

  "See?" I gesture toward Desta. "Even the numbers support this."

  Zix'ilit bounces in an agitated circle. "But revenge matches are supposed to happen after you've trained for months! Built up your team! Found all your equipment! That's how the stories always go!"

  "I'm not interested in following anyone else's story," I tell him firmly. "I want to take care of this before I head into the Verdant Crucible."

  I don't want this defeat gnawing at me anymore.

  Sera speaks up, the flame between her fingers growing slightly larger with her enthusiasm. "I'd like to test my abilities in actual combat. Training simulations only tell you so much."

  "You've been incredibly helpful getting us started," I tell Zix'ilit, softening my tone. "But this is my decision as team leader. Schedule the match for the day before the arena reset."

  "One day before reset?" Zix'ilit's bouncing intensifies. "But that's when everyone's preparing for Crucible expeditions! Nobody schedules matches then!"

  "Exactly," I smile. "Which means maximum visibility. Everyone watching feeds instead of running expeditions themselves."

  Zix'ilit stops bouncing, his frill suddenly shifting to thoughtful blues and purples. "Wait... maximum visibility means maximum sponsor recognition... which means..." His colors brighten considerably. "Which means my status as a sponsor could jump significantly if you win dramatically!"

  "Now you're getting it," I nod.

  "But can't Team Brute Force just refuse the challenge?" Sera asks. "I thought teams had their own schedules."

  "Central Arena has specific protocols for rematches," Desta explains, her eyes briefly flickering with code as she accesses the relevant information. "Teams you have previously lost to cannot refuse a re-challenge, as the system is designed to encourage underdogs to grow stronger and seek redemption."

  "It's one of the few times the arena system actually works in favor of newer assets," I add. "They want the drama of revenge stories. Teams rising from defeat, that kind of thing."

  Zix'ilit's frill has now shifted entirely to excited yellows and vibrant oranges. "This could work! A dominant victory would completely rewrite Team Exodus's reputation! Everyone would be talking about you!"

  "That's the idea," I confirm.

  A day later, we stand in the preparation chamber of a combat arena very different from our first encounter with Brute Force. Instead of urban ruins, this environment is a vast, open arena with a single central platform surrounded by gradually descending terraces. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run, just direct confrontation.

  Perfect.

  "Team Brute Force accepted the challenge with significant confidence parameters," Desta reports, her eyes scanning data feeds. "Their post-acceptance statement included multiple derogatory references to our previous defeat."

  "Let them be confident," I reply, adjusting my gauntlets. The resonance blade hovers at my side, though I don't plan to use it unless absolutely necessary. This isn't about showing all our cards at once.

  Sera looks nervous but determined, elemental energy crackling faintly around her fingertips as she prepares for her first official match. "Should we discuss formation strategies? I've been studying the footage from your previous encounter."

  I shake my head. "For this match, I want you both to hang back. Stay defensive, protect yourselves, but don't engage directly unless necessary."

  "That strategy contradicts established team combat protocols," Desta observes, though there's a hint of curiosity in her typically neutral tone.

  "I know," I smile slightly. "Trust me on this one."

  Zix'ilit's voice comes through our communication system, his excitement barely contained. "Arena's PACKED with observers! Feed distribution metrics are off the charts! Everyone wants to see the rematch!"

  The entrance portal dilates open, revealing the arena beyond. Bright lights illuminate the central platform where Team Brute Force already waits. They look exactly as I remember, four massive Dornians with specialized equipment and smug confidence radiating from their postures.

  As we step onto the platform, the lead Dornian, the one with the hammer weapons, lets out a rumbling laugh that translates directly into my mind.

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  "The broken humans return," he projects, pounding his massive hammers together. "With fewer members than before. Have the others wisely abandoned your failing team?"

  I step forward, my teammates staying behind as planned. "We won't need them for this match."

  All four Dornians laugh, the sound like boulders tumbling down a mountainside. "Your arrogance exceeds your judgment, human. We defeated you at full strength. Now you face us with a weakened configuration."

  "Combat between Human Team Exodus and Dornian Team Brute Force commences in 30 seconds," announces the arena system. "Observation protocols active. Revenge match parameters confirmed."

  The lead Dornian raises his hammers. "We will not simply defeat you this time. We will break you so completely that no sponsor will waste resources on your recovery."

  I remain calm, feeling my enhanced abilities flowing through me with a clarity I never experienced during our first encounter. The gauntlets pulse with energy, the bodysuit adapts to the arena conditions, and the boots make even small shifts in stance feel unnaturally fluid.

  "Combat commences in 3... 2... 1..."

  The signal sounds, and Team Brute Force springs into action with the same coordinated assault that dismantled us in our first encounter. The ranged specialist immediately takes an elevated position, raining energy bolts down in a precise pattern designed to separate our formation. The grappler follows, launching cable weapons to restrict our movement while the armored one and the leader charge directly at us.

  It's textbook, the exact same approach that worked so effectively before. They expect the same result, but they're about to be disappointed.

  As the barrage of energy bolts approaches, I raise my gauntleted hands and form a telekinetic shield. Last time, these attacks overwhelmed my defenses almost instantly. This time, the bolts splash harmlessly against my barrier, my greatly improved telekinetic ability and the gauntlets making what was once a desperate struggle feel almost effortless.

  "My turn," I mutter, launching forward when the ranged specialist stops to reload.

  The velocity enhancement boots propel me with explosive speed while I simultaneously wrap telekinetic force around my body. The combination creates momentum that would break a normal human's bones, but my serum-enhanced physique handles it easily. I become a missile, smashing directly into the center of their formation.

  The impact scatters the Dornians like bowling pins, their coordinated approach shattered in an instant. The armored one recovers first, activating his shield system that previously neutralized my telekinesis. Energy fields snap into place around him as he prepares to counter.

  "That trick won't work twice," I tell him, driving a telekinetically-enhanced fist directly into his shield.

  The barrier cracks like glass, spider-web fractures spreading from the impact point. The Dornian's eyes widen in shock behind his visor. Before he can reconfigure the shields, I strike again, this time focusing my telekinesis to vibrate at the exact resonant frequency of the shield's energy matrix. The entire system shatters, leaving him exposed.

  "This is for Ember," I tell him, seizing him telekinetically and hurling him against the arena wall with enough force to crack his armor and leave him slumped, unconscious.

  The grappler recovers, launching multiple cable weapons in a desperate attempt to entangle me. I catch the cables mid-flight with my telekinesis, redirecting their momentum to wrap around his own limbs instead. As he struggles against his own weapons, I close the distance in a blur of enhanced speed.

  "Remember how you pinned Eli?" I ask, driving a fist into his midsection with enough force to fold him in half. I feel something crack beneath my knuckles—not human bones but the Dornian equivalent. "Now you get to experience it yourself."

  The ranged specialist continues firing from his elevated position, but the shots seem almost comically slow now. I weave between them, the boots making my movements fluid and precise, before launching myself upward in a telekinetically-boosted leap that carries me directly to his platform.

  "Desta could use your weapons," I tell him as I land. "But she wouldn't need them."

  Before he can react, I grab his arm and twist, feeling the alien equivalent of a shoulder dislocate beneath my telekinetically enhanced strength. He roars in pain, dropping his primary weapon, which I catch before it hits the ground. With casual force, I crush the weapon in my hand, the metal crumpling like paper under my telekinetically-boosted grip. A swift kick sends him tumbling from his platform, landing in a crumpled heap on the arena floor.

  That leaves only the leader, the one with the hammer weapons who led the charge that broke my ribs in our first encounter. He stands his ground, hammers raised defensively as he watches his team dismantled with systematic efficiency.

  "You've been enhanced beyond projected parameters," he projects, the thought carrying genuine confusion. "This violates statistical probability."

  "Statistics don't account for determination," I reply, advancing slowly toward him. "Or for how much I've been looking forward to this moment."

  He charges with a roar, hammers swinging in devastating arcs that would pulverize stone. I don't dodge or block, I meet him head-on, catching one hammer with my telekinesis while ducking under the other. My fist connects with his ribcage, enhanced strength combining with telekinetic force to create an impact that cracks his armored hide. He staggers back, blue-black fluid seeping from the wound.

  "Impossible," he gasps, struggling to maintain his grip on the hammers. "Human physiology cannot generate this force output."

  "I'm full of surprises," I tell him, before launching into a combination of blows that target every vulnerable point Desta identified in Dornian anatomy.

  Each impact results in audible cracks as exoskeletal plates fracture under the assault. He tries to counter, hammers swinging desperately, but I'm always just out of reach or already inside his guard. The boots make my footwork impossibly quick, while the serum-enhanced muscles provide power that matches or exceeds his own.

  A particularly solid blow to his knee joint causes something to snap, and the Dornian drops to a kneeling position, hammers now used for support rather than attack. Blue-black fluid drips from multiple wounds as his breathing becomes labored.

  "This is for every broken rib," I tell him, grabbing one of his hammers telekinetically and wrenching it from his grasp. I hover it before him momentarily, letting him see his own weapon turned against him, before dismissing it with a casual toss aside. "But I don't need your weapons to finish this."

  With a final telekinetically-enhanced strike, I smash my fist into his face. I can feel the cracking of bone as his face deforms under the weight of my blow.

  His massive unconscious form hitting the arena floor with a thunderous impact.

  I stand over him, not even breathing hard, surveying the devastation around me. Four Dornians who previously dismantled Team Exodus now lie broken and defeated, and I haven't even drawn the resonance blade from my side.

  "Combat concluded," announces the arena system. "Victory by incapacitation: Human Team Exodus. Match duration: 3 minutes, 42 seconds."

  The arena falls silent, spectators stunned by the complete reversal from our previous match. Then, gradually, the silence gives way to a building roar as the implications register. Team Exodus, dismantled just weeks ago, has returned to utterly dominate the same opponents without utilizing their full team complement.

  Sera and Desta join me at the center of the platform, both looking slightly awed despite their attempts to appear professional.

  "Well," Sera says, a small flame dancing around her fingers. "That was...educational."

  "Observed combat parameters exceed predicted effectiveness by 37%," Desta notes, her eyes flickering briefly with code patterns. "Tactical execution demonstrated optimal efficiency metrics."

  As medical drones approach to tend to the defeated team, I turn back to my teammates. "Now we're ready for the Verdant Crucible."

  Zix'ilit's voice comes through our communication system, so high-pitched with excitement that it's almost painful to hear. "THAT WAS AMAZING! You didn't even need your teammates! Or your sword! The feeds are EXPLODING with replay requests! My sponsor metrics just jumped three full tiers! You've put Team Exodus on the map!"

  I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "We're just getting started."

  As we exit the arena, I feel something shift in Team Exodus's trajectory. The Verdant Crucible awaits, and with it, the next step toward freedom.