Chapter 29
ANNIE
I fingered the high collar of my dress as Five and Eight escorted me through the Nexus’ service corridors.
The stylist had done an excellent job finding something that concealed the fading purple-black bruises circling my throat, but the fabric pressed against the tender skin with every swallow, a constant reminder of yesterday’s nightmare.
Havoc’s physician had done what he could to treat me, but he hadn’t been able to fix the bruising completely.
“Almost there, Ms. Bishop,” Five said.
I checked my watch. Fifteen minutes until the match. Usually, I’d have been here an hour ago, going through the pre-match publicity routine with Cipher. The late arrival was another piece of the strange puzzle that had formed since yesterday.
Havoc’s behavior was equally perplexing. I’d expected him to forbid me from attending tonight’s match, to rage against Cipher for failing to protect me. Instead, he’d been unnervingly calm, almost distant. When I mentioned the League’s summons for tonight’s appearance, he’d simply nodded.
“Remember,” he said, his voice oddly flat, “the League has different rules.”
The cryptic statement had been rolling around in my mind ever since.
“Shouldn’t we be heading to the prep area?” I asked as Five and Eight guided me toward an elevator instead of the corridor that would lead to Cipher.
Five exchanged a quick glance with Eight before answering. “Cipher requested we take you directly to his box tonight, Ms. Bishop.”
I fell silent, my mind racing. My anger and dread built with each floor we passed. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was the one who’d been attacked, who still wore the bruises. If anyone had the right to be distant, it was me. Was he blaming me for the attack?
That was the only conclusion I’d been able to come to.
Especially since Baron Ash had leaked footage from the tunnels.
It had been on the forums and plastered all over the morning programs, altered to cut out any part of the fight, and only show Ash with his hands on me.
Strangers had talked about my assault, about how it was going to affect the match today.
Like it didn’t matter how it affected me.
Cipher would have seen the footage. He would know that everyone else knew that Ash had tainted me. Someone else had touched his plaything.
Which made me wonder why was I even here? Unless Cipher was being forced to continue the charade of our relationship for my cover.
When we reached the upper level, Five and Eight flanked me again. I moved along with them mechanically, my thoughts churning with unanswered questions and growing frustration.
I entered Cipher’s private box but slowed. The boxes surrounding his should be filled with League members. But they sat empty. The entire section had been cleared, leaving Cipher’s box isolated in a sea of vacant seats.
That couldn’t be right. The match had sold out within minutes. All those boxes should be filled.
Eight and Five positioned themselves at the back of the box, a respectful distance away, but still watchful, as I took my seat.
I turned my attention to the arena below, where the crowd roared in anticipation of the match but the emptiness of the surrounding boxes nagged at me.
This wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal.
“Was Baron Ash’s kill request for the match granted?” I asked suddenly, turning to face them.
Five and Eight exchanged uncomfortable glances. Finally, Eight cleared his throat.
“Yes, Ms. Bishop,” he admitted. “The League approved it yesterday evening.”
“I see.” My voice sounded hollow. I turned back toward the arena, my fingers unconsciously reaching for the bruises hidden beneath my high collar.
I stared at the Nexus, trying to focus on the spectacle rather than the knot of dread tightening in my stomach.
The crystalline dome that normally dazzled me with its prismatic light patterns now felt like the lid of a coffin.
The combat platform’s white surface gleamed below, soon to be stained with blood. Maybe Cipher’s.
I’d been to dozens of fights here before, but this was different. This was sanctioned murder. The crowd seemed to sense it too. Their cheers and screams sounded ravenous. They wanted carnage, and the League had given them permission to witness it.
The flooring pulsed with subtle light as the technical crew made final adjustments, each flash making my heart stutter.
Above, drones hovered like vultures, their lenses ready to capture every moment of the violence about to unfold.
The referee platforms seemed like a sick joke.
What was there to referee in a death match?
My body tensed when the lights dimmed. My fingernails dug into the armrests as the crowd’s roar intensified. As the announcer’s voice boomed through the sound system, all I could think was: This could be the last time I ever see Cipher alive.
“Welcome to the Nexus!”
The cheers became deafening.
“Making his way to the arena first—the master of fire, the nightmare in human form, BARON ASH!”
Sweat broke out along my skin as flames erupted at the far entrance. The flames seemed to become one mass, forming the silhouette of a man before Baron Ash materialized fully. The crowd erupted, but all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.
My stomach twisted violently at the sight of him. Those hands had been around my throat just yesterday, squeezing until black spots danced across my vision. Those same hands had pushed up my dress, had pinned me down.
He’s going to kill Cipher.
I looked down and realized I’d been clenching my hands so tightly that my nails had broken skin.
I was trembling and couldn’t seem to stop.
The memory of his touch made my skin crawl, the sensation of his hand on my thigh burned like a brand.
I fought to keep my breathing steady as phantom pressure closed around my throat again, as the burning of that hand shoved my dress up.
The arena lights went out and the Nexus was plunged into absolute darkness. The crowd fell silent in anticipation.
“And now,” the announcer’s voice cut through the silence, somehow both quieter and more intense than before, “the technological terror, the genius of destruction, CIPHER!”
Instead of his usual dramatic light show and technological display, a single beam of light cut through the darkness, illuminating Cipher as he stood motionless at his entrance.
The drones and lasers that always dazzled the crowd weren’t there.
It was just him, standing perfectly still as the light caught the edges of his suit.
The glowing accents on his armor pulsed like a heartbeat.
I’d watched every one of Cipher’s entrances, even rewatched them. This was different in a way that made the back of my neck prickle. The crowd recognized it too as their roar built from confusion to excitement.
Cipher strode forward and the light followed him as he moved toward the combat platform, casting long shadows that reached toward Baron Ash like grasping fingers.
Cipher hadn’t been lying when he said he was a dramatic bitch, he always played to the crowd and reveled in their adoration.
But tonight, there was no acknowledgement of the crowd or their cheers.
Every step lacked his usual flourishes, the singular focus of his attention on Baron Ash.
If this wasn’t the Cipher who delighted in spectacle, who was he?
The arena transformed around the pair, the white surface disappearing beneath a rising cityscape of gleaming metal and neon. Holographic buildings shot up from the floor, creating a futuristic urban landscape complete with flickering street signs and hovering vehicles frozen in mid-air.
Baron Ash stood at one end of a wide boulevard, flames dancing across his fingertips, while Cipher remained motionless at the other. The announcer’s voice boomed through the Nexus, explaining the rules of engagement, but I barely heard him.
These matches typically lasted thirty minutes or more. Three grueling rounds where the combatants would test each other’s limits before delivering the final blow. I’d watched Cipher fight enough times to know his pattern: deploy drones, analyze weaknesses, tire his opponent out, then strike.
But after that entrance, the tight, twisting pressure in my chest made me think that everything about tonight was going to be different.
Begin!” The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena.
Cipher moved first, a blur of black and glowing blue. No deployment of drones, just pure, unrestrained speed as he crossed the distance between them. Baron Ash didn’t even have time to summon his flames properly.
“What the—” Baron Ash’s surprised exclamation over the speakers was cut short by Cipher’s fist connecting with his jaw. The impact sounded like a thunderclap, echoing through the arena.
Ash staggered backward, blood already streaming from beneath his mask. He recovered quickly and I screamed, half-rising from my seat as he summoned walls of flame that engulfed Cipher.
When the flames receded, Cipher stood untouched, not even his suit was singed. Without hesitation, he grabbed Baron Ash’s arm, the same one that had forced its way under my skirt yesterday, and twisted. The crack of breaking bone echoed through the arena, followed immediately by Ash’s howl of pain.
The ghost of his rough hands on my thigh vanished, replaced by the sound of his agony.
The crowd roared their approval, surging to their feet. Unlike the choreographed combat they were used to, this was raw violence, and they were drinking it in.
Baron Ash fought back and managed to land a single blow to Cipher’s face. Cipher didn’t even flinch.
He broke Baron Ash’s other arm, then both legs, in quick succession. He shattered the limbs that had pinned me to the wall, that had trapped me while I struggled. The sounds of shattering bone punctuated the Villain’s screams, creating a grotesque rhythm that had the crowd stomping and cheering.
“Oh God,” I whispered. I pressed my hand against my mouth to hold back a sob that wasn’t quite fear and sank back into my seat.
Baron Ash lay broken on the ground, his flames flickering weakly around him. “Wait,” he gasped, his voice barely audible through the arena’s speakers. “I yield—”
Cipher reached down and lifted Baron Ash by his throat, one-handed, like he weighed nothing. He was holding him the way Ash had held me.
My own hand flew to my neck, covering the bruises Ash had left as the arena went eerily silent.
This wasn’t in the script. This wasn’t how these matches ended.
Baron Ash’s legs dangled uselessly, his broken arms hanging at unnatural angles. “Please—” he gurgled.
I knew what was coming. Every nerve in my body screamed to close my eyes, but they remained fixed on the scene below.
Cipher brought his other hand up to Baron Ash’s throat and his fingers dug in. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the air was being squeezed out of me all over again.
With one swift, terrible motion, Cipher separated Baron Ash’s head from his body.
The sound echoed through the arena and blood sprayed across the floor in a crimson arc.
Baron Ash’s body crumpled, while Cipher stood motionless, holding the severed head in his hands. He stared at it for what felt like an eternity, his chest heaving with each breath.
Then, with a sudden explosion of movement, he hurled the head against the arena wall. The impact was catastrophic, bone and matter shattering in a grotesque display of force. The sound it made was sickening, that wet, hollow crack followed by the splatter.
The crowd erupted. They’d witnessed something unprecedented: a complete execution, a fight that broke every unwritten rule of Super combat.
Blood pooled around Cipher’s feet as he stood motionless in the center of the arena. The announcer seemed at a loss for words, but the crowd needed none. Their roar said everything.
I was shaking. I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t even breathe. My vision tunneled until all I could see was Cipher standing in that growing pool of crimson, Baron Ash’s headless body crumpled at his feet.
The phantom pressure of Ash’s hands on my windpipe finally released its hold and I could breathe freely again. The lingering heat of his palms shoved against my thighs went cold.
I knew the memories wouldn’t just disappear.
The tender skin under my collar would still throb when I tried to sleep tonight and I would still wake up in a sweat with the feeling of him on top of me.
But seeing the monster reduced to broken bones and splattered meat severed a tether I hadn’t realized was dragging me under.
I didn’t know how desperately I needed to see him destroyed just so I could stop feeling his skin against mine for a while.
Ash would never touch me again.
When Cipher finally lifted his arms, wide and triumphant in victory, the roar that answered him shook the stadium. The crowd was worshipping. This was what they truly wanted, what the sanitized matches had been denying them: blood and death, a complete lack of restraint.
I felt Five’s hand on my shoulder, steadying me. I hadn’t realized I was swaying until his grip pulled me back to reality.
“Ms. Bishop,” his voice came from far away. “Ms. Bishop, are you alright?”
I couldn’t answer. My eyes remained fixed on Cipher as he stood bathed in blood and adoration, arms outstretched like a dark messiah. The glowing lines of his suit seemed brighter now, pulsing with each thunderous cheer from the crowd.