The air was heavy as lead.

  Noah and Tirso stood firm, locking eyes with a promise of violence. Blood dripped from their faces, marking the ground with dark stains. Despite the pain, neither of them backed down.

  Noah blinked, and in that instant, Tirso raised his forearms to cover his face, adopting a boxer's stance. His guard was nearly perfect—but not just that. Something about the way he moved, the tension in his muscles, the positioning of his legs... It all hinted at a level of combat knowledge beyond natural instinct.

  It was the power of the biochip.

  Noah raised his arms, mimicking the stance. He had no time to react when the first blow nded.

  A hook exploded against his left cheek.

  His head snapped violently to the side, and the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth. He barely regained his bance before a second punch—fast as a whip—struck his jaw. He couldn't see it coming.

  —"Come on, didn't you want me to shut up? Shut me up, Ryker!"

  Tirso's voice dripped with confidence. Every fiber of his being seemed convinced that this fight already had a winner.

  Noah gritted his teeth and tried to retaliate with a straight punch to the stomach, but Tirso dodged with ease, pivoting on his left foot and unching a flurry of blows to Noah's ribs. These weren't mindless punches—they were precise, surgical, designed to inflict maximum damage in the shortest time possible.

  Too fast...

  Noah stepped back, but Tirso didn't let up. His right foot lifted in a fluid motion, unching a Mae Geri—a perfect front kick.

  The impact knocked the air out of him.

  Noah felt his body fold like paper, and before he could react, his back hit the ground with a dry thud. He coughed violently, a mix of saliva and blood spilling from his lips.

  —"What's wrong? Don't know how to use the biochip?"

  Tirso lowered his guard just for a moment, looking at him with disdain.

  —"Or are you just that weak? Look at yourself."

  Noah blinked, trying to focus his vision. His white suit was completely stained red. Warm blood trickled down his cheek, forming small puddles around him. He tried to move, but his body refused to respond.

  Tirso wouldn't give him a break.

  His arms rose again, this time taking the stance of a karateka. Without hesitation, he lunged forward with a Heiko Zuki—a double punch aimed at Noah's chest.

  Noah felt his ribcage crack. A sharp pain tore through his torso, stealing the air from his lungs. His vision darkened for a moment.

  —"Now you're quiet, huh, Ryker? How nice."

  Without realizing it, the two had drawn a crowd. People had come out to watch, though none knew how to react. Some shouted for them to stop, others cheered for the fight to continue.

  But everyone felt the same thing.

  Something in Noah's eyes told them not to get closer.

  And then, Noah smiled.

  His mouth was covered in blood, and every word he spoke came out as a whisper drowned by pain.

  —"Tirso... I won't shut up until you kill me."

  Tirso's face tensed for a second.

  But before he could respond, Noah swung his leg upward with all the strength he had left.

  The kick struck Tirso's chest, pushing him back.

  Noah got up.

  His legs trembled. His breathing was ragged and painful. He could feel fractures in his ribs, and the blood he coughed up wasn't just from his mouth—it was from inside him.

  But still, he stepped forward.

  Tirso steadied himself quickly, ready to continue.

  Noah, his eyes squinting through the blood dripping down his face, grinned defiantly.

  —"But you won't have to kill me... because I'll shut you up first."

  And in that instant, the world slowed down.

  Noah saw everything in slow motion.

  His own fist advancing toward Tirso's face.The crowd around them, tense expressions frozen in anticipation.Max, his face filled with worry.David, standing frozen in the front row.The shouts of the people filling the air.

  The impact was brutal.

  Noah's knuckles crashed into Tirso's nose, distorting it on impact.

  But Tirso didn't stand still.

  He used the opening to strike back with a direct punch to Noah's stomach.

  Both blows nded at the same time.

  The sound of bones cracking echoed in the air.

  Tirso staggered back, feeling his nose break completely. Warm blood dripped down his lip, staining his shirt.

  Noah felt his stomach tighten. The pain knocked the wind out of him. His vision blurred for a moment, and he felt his legs give out.

  Then, everything stopped.

  —"Both subjects have broken a rule. You will be punished."

  Xavier Musk's voice rang out like a death sentence.

  Noah tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond.

  It was as if he was trapped, frozen in time.

  The spectators fell silent.

  Only when Xavier Musk allowed it did he regain control of his body.

  Two tall, broad-shouldered men emerged from the crowd, grabbing them by the arms.

  Noah couldn't stand on his own. His body felt broken.

  Tirso, with his nose shattered and a trickle of blood running down his lip, shook his head before muttering one st threat:

  —"Ryker... this isn't over. I'll break you until you beg for mercy."

  And with those words, they were separated.

  The pain remained, burning through every fiber of his body.

  Noah could barely feel his legs as the guards dragged him toward his room. His vision blurred with every step, and a dull ringing echoed in his ears. His stomach was still twisted from Tirso's final blow, and every breath felt like it tore through his lungs.

  He gnced to his side.

  Tirso walked with his head down, his nose still bleeding, his breathing unsteady. He didn't try to resist, but there was something in his eyes that made him look more dangerous than ever. It wasn't rage. It was something deeper.

  They reached a fork in the hallway and were separated.

  Noah felt the grip of the two men tighten around his arms, forcing him forward toward his white, metallic door. A sharp beep sounded as the door unlocked with a mechanical click. They shoved him inside without a word.

  The door shut behind him.

  The sound of the lock engaging made it clear—he wasn't getting out anytime soon.

  The room was small, with cold white walls and no windows. A metal bed with a thin mattress sat in one corner, and a small built-in closet was the only other furniture. Across from it, a door led to his private bathroom.

  Noah staggered to the bed and colpsed onto it, his body screaming in pain.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself.

  His mind was still trapped in the fight.

  Tirso's blows still echoed in his body, each impact leaving a mark like a burn.

  He had lost. Not just that—he had been humiliated.

  And worse... his biochip had done nothing.

  —"Damn it..." —he muttered to himself, smming his fist onto the bed.

  He didn't understand what had happened.

  Why did Tirso's biochip work so well while his didn't?

  Why had he felt every hit like a normal human when he was supposed to be more than that?

  He ran a hand over his face, feeling the dried blood sticking to his skin.

  He needed to clean himself.

  With effort, he pushed himself up, stumbling to the bathroom. He leaned against the sink and turned the faucet on. Cold water hit his hands, washing away some of the blood. He looked up at the mirror.

  His reflection stared back—sunken eyes, a face covered in cuts and bruises, split lips, fresh blood still at the corner of his mouth.

  He let out a dry chuckle.

  —"What a mess..."

  He spshed water onto his face, letting the cold soothe the burning sensation. He rubbed his skin, watching as the water running down the drain turned red.

  After a few minutes, he remained leaning against the sink, breathing deeply.

  On the other side of the building, Tirso was going through the same thing.

  He had washed his face, wiping away the blood from his broken nose. Though, unlike Noah, his body wasn't covered in wounds. Just a couple of cuts on his lips and a crooked nose.

  But he didn't care about his injuries.

  He was furious.

  Not at Noah.

  At himself.

  Because he had felt something during that fight. Something that made him shudder.

  The fire in Noah's eyes.

  That look wasn't normal.

  He had seen plenty of angry people, plenty of people who wanted to fight, but Noah... Noah didn't fight because he wanted to prove something. He didn't fight out of pride or rage.

  He fought because he didn't care if he died.

  Tirso clenched his teeth, feeling the fury rise within him.

  But what truly made his blood boil...

  Was that for a second, just one damn second, he had felt the same way.

  He closed his eyes, and the memories came rushing back.