Dr. Norra was wrapping Brinus’s hands and wrists before his first fight. Brinus was sweaty. His pupils dilated from fear. He sat on the stretching table, frozen in fear.Brinus wondered how he had got to this point and regretted the fight. At least he got to release some of his aggressive energy.He wore gym shorts and a high-dry shirt with the sponsor logo on it. The logo was a silhouette of a bird person in a navy uniform. His syndicate tattoo and addiction tattoo were visible on his arms.

  The room was paneled with oak wood paneling from a different planet and had stained wood floors. There were ten padded tables, each with a fighter and a trainer.

  Dr. Norra sensed Brinus’s anxiety. “Relax; remember what your agent said. You’re not here to win. You’re here to introduce yourself. Why don't you go and talk with the other fighters?”

  Brinus sat on the edge of the stretching table; his hands shook as Dr. Norra wrapped his wrists. He tried to focus, but his mind wandered. The ache in his chest wasn’t fear, it was the need, the hunger, and desire. It gnawed at him like a never-ending compulsion.

  “I need my vape?” he asked, with hesitation and desperation in his voice.

  Dr. Norra rolled his eyes and sighed. “No.”

  Brinus exhaled sharply and looked away, biting his nails to keep his hands busy. The taste of AA nicotine still lingered on his tongue from earlier, mocking him. He needed it, and the thought of stepping into the ring without it made his stomach churn. It wasn’t just the chemical grip; it was the ritual, the calm that came with it when the world felt like it spun too fast.

  “Fine,” Norra snapped. “Three hits; that's all.”

  Brinus took a hit from the vape and inhaled. The warm vapor filled his lungs. For a moment, he felt steady, like he could control the shaking in his hands. He exhaled slowly, savoring the calm and pleasant buzz. He smiled with his eyes closed as his mind steadied.

  “Better?” Norra sneered, snatching the vape away.

  Brinus didn’t respond. He hated how much he needed it. It wasn’t just an endless hunger that needed to be filled; it held him back to a version he wanted to escape. He knew it hurt his performance and his focus. But quitting was as difficult as winning this fight.

  A young man came into the room and approached Brinus, offering a handshake and interrupting his thoughts. Brinus shook it with a firm grip. “So you’re my warm-up fighter? My name is Enzo the Hammer. You can call me Enzo. Interesting, they gave me a criminal. I take it you robbed a bank or two.” The fighter laughed briefly as though he had told a funny joke.

  Brinus thought to himself. He came up from the table. “When do we fight?”

  “At nine a.m. They usually do the early and intermediate warm-up fights after lunch through mid-afternoon. The main events are at prime time. That is when the big streamers show up and live stream the events.”

  “Why do they call you Enzo the Hammer?”

  He smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll find out in a few hours. But I’ll take it easy since you’re new.” Enzo walked away, cackling like a hyena.

  thought Brinus as he shrugged his shoulders.

  Brinus’s hands were done being wrapped and then Dr. Norra moved to his feet. “Are you nervous?” asked Dr. Norra, taking note of his anxious demeanor.

  “Yes, sir. I never fought in a tournament before.” he thought.

  “Need another hit?” Asked Dr. Norra as he wrapped Brinus’s left foot.

  Brinus nodded.

  “I don’t like smoking, but if you need it, you need it.”

  Brinus took another hit off his vape.

  “There now? better?” He made a condescending smile and then moved to Brinus’s Right foot.

  Brinus smiled and nodded, ignoring Dr. Norra’s sarcasm. He hated how judgemental Dr. Norra was of his smoking habit. However, Brinus was well aware of the effects of Tarken Tea products, so he couldn't blame him.

  “When I am done wrapping your hands and feet, I want you to get a massage from the Massage Therapist. It will warm up your muscles and reduce injury risk.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Brinus, once the wrapping was done, walked over to the massage therapist to get a special warm-up massage.

  A couple of hours later, he paced around the room and fidgeted with his gym shorts drawstring. He needed more hits from his vape and had gone an hour without it because of Dr. Norra's rationing his hits. Brinus thought.

  The other fighter approached him and slapped his back as he was deep in thought. This caused him to jump and scream out. “It’s go time!” yelled Enzo.

  Enzo ran out onto the arena, and Brinus ran after him. There was polite applause as Enzo lifted his arms above his head. Brinus noticed only a few hundred people were in the stands designed for 100,000. They were mainly stadium workers and the fighters’ families who didn’t have work. They scrolled on their phones and talked amongst themselves. The stadium security was zoned out and helped people find seating. Overall, people seemed bored and ready to end the warm-up rounds even though it was only 9 a.m.

  He couldn’t hear the announcer as blood rushed into his ears; his pupils dilated even more, and he could hear his heart beating, all of which was a fear response. Even Brinus’s mother couldn’t make it because, in her words, “I have a war to manage.” Brinus figured she didn’t want to see him get beat up four times. Suddenly, the bell rang, and the fight started.

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  Brinus dodged a punch to his face and made a jab at his opponent’s liver. Enzo brushed the punch aside. Brinus then made a series of jabs at his opponent's liver and left kidney. He started sweating and feeling the energy of the crowd supercharge him. He felt the electric buzz of the surging crowd. People came off of their phones and rooted for Enzo, shouting his name. They screamed, “Enzo! Enzo! Enzo!” Stadium workers began stealing glances at the fight between helping customers and guests.

  Brinus smiled, throwing his hands up in the air and screaming Yes. Everyone Booed. In a moment of inattention brought on by the unexpected rush in energy because he didn’t care that the crowd rooted for his opponent. The energy felt amazing and flooded his brain with endorphins and dopamine. Enzo grabbed Brinus’s wrist, knocked his foot from under him, and threw Brinus over his knee. He had the wind knocked out of him and yelled out in surprise as Enzo stomped on his arm, breaking it. A referee came between Brinus and his opponent, declaring Enzo the winner.

  Brinus bit his tongue as he swallowed insults. He was taken on a stretcher behind the ring. I lost! I fucking lost!

  Enzo smirked at him with a smug look and said, “I told you you would find out why I was called Enzo the hammer.”

  Brinus flashed his screw-you smile as he was taken into the back and out of view.

  A few hours after the fight, he sat in the recovery room on the bed as he played a game on his triquarter. His left arm was wrapped in healing bandages and a splint. He laid on top of the sheet. He had his bones knitted together with an osteoregenerative device four hours ago. The room smelled sterile, like alcohol and soap. There were four old-fashioned hospital beds and a medicine cabinet with a lock and key. A refrigerator was behind the nurse’s station. The bland tile floor was worn and dated, with white walls and a moldy particleboard ceiling from the 2040s. The fluorescent lights were unpleasant, like blinding beacons of hell. The medical wing was dated but functional.

  The recovery room used to be the press room. Before the collapse, the arena was refurbished from an old college basketball stadium but was expanded. This campus was now a municipal complex, with most of the dorms refurbished for government housing. The city was once home to 20 million people, but four million souls called it home.

  Brinus sat playing an online game on his TriQuarter. He reflected on his loss. I wonder what I could have done differently. Where the fuck did that energy blast come from? It took me off guard. What if it happens again? What will you do? He decided to come up with a plan after the tournament with his magi trainer.

  A blogger who was a member of the press walked into the infirmary recovery room and spoke with security. Brinus could see the security tag on her shirt, which said 'media all access.' She walked up to Brinus and noticed the room smelled like fresh vape juice, like someone had been smoking.

  “The name’s Terra. I’m a writer with the netsite Sports Unlimited. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” She pulled out a recorder and began recording the conversation after flashing her press badge.

  Brinus discussed the Navy and how he ended up in the service. Twenty minutes into the interview, he discussed Harper, his first boyfriend, and how he didn’t have any animosity toward the syndicate. However, Terra saw his eyes flash and his fists clench.

  She smiled and said, “Are you sure you have no animosity towards the syndicate for killing your first real love?”

  Brinus crossed his arms in front of his chest. He knew better than to badmouth the syndicate publicly. “No. I ain’t got no bad feelings towards them.”

  She laughed and smiled. “Come on, man.” She cackled again, which sent Brinus’s teeth on edge. “I read your public file before coming. They murdered your boyfriend and let you rot in prison for two years. You tried to commit suicide by cop to get out of the syndicate. Surely, you do have some hostile feelings.”

  Brinus remembered what Archer had said about not answering questions he was uncomfortable answering. “No comment.”

  She shook her head and adjusted her position. “Very well. What are some of your thoughts on the Orin syndicate?”

  Brinus shook his head and crossed his arms. “No comment.” He wondered why she was obsessed with the syndicate.

  “Long Ho killed your boyfriend and then was your father; what are your thoughts?”

  Brinus tilted his head. “What’re we discussin' here?”

  “We’re discussing you. My bad.” She smiled, showing her teeth. The smile crept out Brinus as it didn’t go up to her eyes. “We can change the subject if you want to.”

  Brinus nodded. He felt like something was wrong with this reporter but didn’t want to say it out loud or admit it to himself.

  “What did you think of your first fight?”

  “I honestly enjoyed it and learned a lot.” This was mostly true. He did enjoy fighting and the trash talk, but he did not get his arm broken or have his vape rationed by a holier-than-thou anti-smoking goodie two-shoos.

  A nurse entered the recovery room and photographed his arm with her triquarter. “I am taking an X-ray of your arm now. Depending on what the doctor says, you will be discharged.”

  Terra turned off her recorder. “If you want to discuss the syndicate, you can call my receptionist and set up an interview. Here’s my card.” She handed Brinus her card and left.

  The doctor came into the recovery room after the nurse took her X-rays. “You can go. Your arm will be sore for a few days, and you’ll have a migraine tonight and tomorrow, but you’ll be ready to fight again on Wednesday. Due to your history of bliss addiction, I am giving you a nonopioid pain medicine. I sent my report to your agent. See ya Wednesday.” The doctor winked and smiled, patting him on his leg.

  The nurse came in and removed the healing bandages and took his splint. On his way out, he picked up some pain pills from the pharmacy across the street and left.

  He arrived at the hotel by bus an hour later. Everyone was huddled around the TV in the hotel bar. He arrived to see a high-speed chase was in progress. Five cop cars chased a stolen city car. The driver leaned out of the driver’s side window and shot a blaster pistol at the cops. Brinus saw the caption under the picture. It said, “O.J. Casso, a famous fighter, commits a terrible crime and is fleeing from police after his neighbor calls 911.”

  Brinus was uninterested in what was on the TV; he went to his room and put his room key in the slot. He heard Archer on his triquarter.

  “Yes, you need to cancel your contract. Yes, all of it. No, but I will refund the money that hasn’t been spent. Yes, sir. I am sorry. No, sir, it is just gone. That’s the risk we take. Unfortunately, our agency is also severing ties with him. This kind of crime committed violates his morality clause in the contract. Hey, my rookie just showed up. I’ll call you back.”

  Brinus noticed that Archer’s fur was dull and reddish-blue.

  Brinus lay on the bed. “Well, this was painful.”

  “Did you get your pain pills?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. The doctor said I needed to rest.”

  “It wasn’t a total washout. I would say just go back to the ship, but you still have one more fight on Thursday and one on Wednesday.”

  “I spoke with a reporter named Terra. She was with the blog Sports Unlimited.”

  Archer sat beside Brinus on his bed and put his arm around his shoulder. “Sports Unlimited? Interesting. They normally cover the prime-time fights. I guess they heard an ex-syndicate member was drafted into the Navy and was in the recovery room. Next time, let me handle the press.”

  Brinus looked around the room. He noticed it had two queen-sized beds, a bathroom with a water-based shower, a water-based sink, and a toilet. It also had blue carpet and tile at the front of the door. Being a duke, he could afford much better accommodation. However, he wasn’t going to complain because he had also spent time in hoarders’ homes, been in prison, and even been homeless. This room was paradise compared to some of the places he had stayed. At least it had air conditioning and running water. He smiled to himself at the comfort he could afford.

  “Hey, I’m gonna go to my room to make a few phone calls. I will check on you in a few hours, and I’m sure you know why.”

  “I saw a little bit of the chase. He is going to get canceled, isn’t he?”

  Archer nodded. “What he did was unforgivable. If he said something naughty online, we could just make him apologize sincerely and have him disappear for a few months after deleting his social media. People love remediation stories.”

  “From what I understand, it involves children.”

  Archer’s fur flashed bright red. “Disgusting if you ask me. I have phone calls to make.” He left the hotel room.

  Brinus lay on the bed and fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow on top of his sheets, in his boots and uniform.