Kikaru's suit thrusters ignited. She crossed the packed dirt in a blur of speed.
Caleb planted his boots and tried to raise his forearms. The synthetic fibers of his surplus armor groaned, too heavy and slow to match his intent.
Her boot left the ground and twisted into an upward kick. The armored shin slammed into the side of his helmet.
The impact shattered his visor and snapped his head sideways. His boots left the ground. He crashed into the dirt, rolled twice, and came to a hard stop.
Dirt coated his tongue. His ears rang. The suit's neck collar locked rigid, absorbing the blow that should have snapped his spine.
Kikaru landed lightly on the gravel. She deactivated her thrusters and turned toward the hovering camera drones.
"Evaluation complete," she announced. Her voice carried over the stadium feed. "Target incapacitated in a single strike. The applicant possesses zero combat readiness."
Caleb pushed his hands into the dirt. His head throbbed. Blood dripped from his nose and pooled at his chin guard. He spat red saliva onto the ground and forced his knees under him.
The surplus suit whirred, the servos struggling to lift its mass. He planted his boots and forced his spine straight.
"Hey," Caleb rasped.
Kikaru stopped mid-pose and stared at him.
Caleb wiped his bleeding nose with the back of his gauntlet, smearing a dark streak across the battered metal. "You hit like a princess."
Kikaru's eye twitched. The drones zoomed in, their lenses whirring to catch her reaction.
"I've taken harder hits from a dead Honju," Caleb said. He picked up his dropped training baton, resting the wood against his shoulder plate. "Did you buy that prototype just to look pretty for the cameras, or does it actually do something?"
Kikaru squared her shoulders. Her chin dropped. "You ignorant scrubber. Stay down before I break something you need."
"Come break it."
She charged. She threw a left hook aimed at his ribs. Caleb lunged to step inside her guard.
His boot struck the dirt a fraction too late. The unpowered armor dragged against his own muscles.
Kikaru's fist crashed into his ribcage. The armor held, but the concussive force transferred straight into his bones.
He stumbled. She pivoted and drove a knee upward into his stomach. Oxygen rushed out of his lungs. He dropped his guard. She followed up with a sharp open palm strike to his chest.
He staggered backward. She spun and landed an augmented elbow against his jaw.
Caleb hit the dirt. He brought the baton up to block her descending heel. The thick wood splintered into pieces under the weight of her boot. His forearms shook under the crushing pressure.
She kicked the broken baton away and delivered a brutal jab to his shoulder.
Blood pooled in his chin guard, thick and hot on his tongue. He pushed himself up onto one knee. The stadium spun. He lacked the strength to guard his ribs.
"Just surrender, you idiot," Kikaru said. She held her ground with her armored fist cocked. "You proved your point. Now stay down."
Caleb spat a mouthful of blood onto the dirt. He forced his right arm to lift, bracing his boots.
A furnace ignited behind his ribcage.
Searing heat poured down his arm. His sleeve tightened. The suit seams pulled against his expanding bicep. The synthetic material bit into his skin, accompanied by a mechanical whine piercing his right ear.
Green text bled across his cracked visor.
[RIGHT ARM SYNC RATE: 97%]
Kikaru drove her fist downward.
Caleb's right arm snapped upward.
The impact detonated through his shoulder. Air punched outward in a concussive wave. The ground kicked violently under his knee. The shockwave fractured the concrete beneath the dirt and scattered the hovering camera drones.
Kikaru flew twenty feet across the ring. She crashed into the steel barricade on the far side of the arena. The metal fencing buckled outward under her weight.
The green text vanished from Caleb's visor, replaced by a blinking gray diagnostic.
[SYNC RATE: 0.08%]
His knees hit the ground. His right arm dropped. He tried to flex his fingers, but the joints remained locked. The heat scraped out of his chest, leaving a hollow void in its place.
Across the ring, the dust slowly cleared.
Kikaru pushed off the bent barricade. Her custom armor was scuffed and streaked with dirt. Her right arm trembled uncontrollably, hanging at a stiff angle.
She locked her knees and raised her chin. She bit down on her lip hard enough to whiten it.
"There is no way that hurt me," Kikaru yelled. Her voice cracked at the edges. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let a tear fall down her dirt-streaked cheek. "You're an idiot if you think a cheap shot like that would ever work on me!"
A glaring red diagnostic warning flared on the public leaderboard.
[KIKARU MITSURUGI: CRITICAL ARMOR INTEGRITY. RIGHT BICEP-FOREARM.]
She ignored the flashing red text. She took a stubborn step forward, raising her uninjured left hand.
A loud buzzer echoed across the stadium. The proctor stepped past the barricade and lowered a checkered flag.
"Match concluded," the proctor announced over the PA system. "Applicant Mitsurugi wins on points and dominant control."
Kikaru spun on her heel. She marched out of the ring, stomping her boots and clutching her right arm tight to her waist.
The proctor walked over and looked down at Caleb. "Both of you showcased high survival potential. Applicant 4013, report to the medical bay for evaluation."
Caleb stayed kneeling in the dirt. His right arm hung uselessly at his side. He tried to move his fingers again. The muscles refused to respond.
Boots crunched over the broken gravel. Two medics crossed into the ring and knelt beside him. One tapped the side of his cracked visor.
"Don't try to stand yet," she said.
The other medic carefully took hold of his gauntlet. The moment she lifted his arm, a violent jolt shot from his shoulder up into his neck. His jaw locked.
"Massive localized sync spike," the first medic said, reading the diagnostic feed on his visor. "Then a full drop. Your neural pathways overloaded."
She began wrapping a heavy brace around his arm, locking it firmly against his torso. "Try to move your fingers again."
Caleb tried. The fingers hung loose inside the gauntlet. He stared at his own hand.
"Is it just dislocated?" Caleb asked. "Nerve damage?"
The medics did not answer. One kept tightening the brace.
"Does this mean I'm done?" Caleb demanded, his voice raising. "Does this mean I can't continue testing?"
"That decision isn't mine," the lead medic said calmly. She locked the final buckle on the brace.
Caleb looked toward the arena. Recruits stood along the outer ring, staring at the fractured ground where he and Kikaru had collided.
"If I can't use the arm, I can't fight," Caleb said. "If I can't fight, I'm disqualified."
Neither medic answered. They packed their kits and stood up.