Resonance Unbound

Ezra pushed his way through the throng of people, jostled and directionless amid the chaotic crowd. Before he realized it, he found himself standing in the middle of the pit, surrounded by a deafening roar of spectators.

His eyes lifted, tracing the tiers of balconies three floors above, each packed with shouting, cheering faces.

This must be really popular, he thought, glancing around in awe at the sheer size of the gathering.

"The fight is starting!" the announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, amplified over the frenzied din. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our fighters!"

The cheers erupted into a deafening wave, louder than anything Ezra had ever experienced. The sound hit him like a physical force, and the press of bodies surged forward, shoving him closer to the ring.

He stumbled slightly but managed to keep his footing, finding himself just a few steps from the edge.

The first fighter emerged, and the crowd's energy reached a fever pitch. A towering man with a massive frame strode confidently into the ring, exuding dominance with every step.

His movements were deliberate, his smirk unshakable, radiating an aura of overconfidence. Tattoos covered nearly every inch of his body, a chaotic tapestry of ink that only left patches of untouched skin visible on his face.

Even the untouched skin seemed deliberate, like the final piece of an unfinished masterpiece.

"Carlos! The Undertaker!"

The announcer's voice ignited another wave of cheers as the fighter raised one hand in acknowledgment. His dark purple hair was shaved close on the sides, with the longer strands at the top pulled into a tight ponytail that swayed with each step.

His teeth gleamed gold, flashing in the flickering lights.

Behind him, his team followed, each member carrying the same swagger.

They cheered him on, hyping up the already frenzied crowd as they approached the ring. Their confidence was palpable, oozing from every movement and gesture, as if the fight's outcome had already been decided in their favor.

Ezra narrowed his eyes, taking in the spectacle. The sheer energy of the crowd was almost overwhelming, electrifying the air around him. The anticipation crackled, a tangible force building as the announcer's voice boomed again.

"And next… we have Annakin—the Wolf!"

A single man stepped into view, and the atmosphere in the arena shifted dramatically. His presence was like a thunderclap, an aura that exploded through the space and commanded absolute attention.

He was taller and broader than Carlos, his tan skin stretched over a physique that spoke of hard work and relentless training. The sheer size of him rivaled Shirley's, perhaps even surpassing it.

Scars marred his torso, cutting jagged paths across his muscles, but they only added to his imposing presence.

Freckles dusted his chest and neck, a subtle contrast to his otherwise rugged appearance.

Annakin wore a wolf mask that obscured his face and hair, leaving only his eyes visible. The intensity in his gaze burned through the arena as he strode forward with measured purpose.

Unlike Carlos, there was no team following him, no entourage to cheer him on. He walked alone, his silence speaking volumes.

Ezra's brow furrowed in confusion.

No team? he thought. Why's he alone?

But the crowd didn't seem to mind—or perhaps they didn't notice. Their roars were deafening, split between chants for Carlos and Annakin, the anticipation reaching its breaking point as both fighters entered the ring.

The announcer's voice thundered over the chaos, adding fuel to the fire. "Two legends, one ring! Who will claim victory tonight? Carlos the Undertaker, the grave-maker of giants? Or Annakin the Wolf, the lone predator of the pit?"

Ezra watched with bated breath as the two fighters approached the center of the ring. The crowd's roar softened into an eager hum, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

Annakin and Carlos stood face to face, the size difference between them more pronounced up close.

Ezra quickly realized that Carlos, while tall and muscular, was dwarfed by Annakin's sheer presence. Annakin wasn't just tall—he was a giant.

Carlos sneered, his cocky demeanor unwavering despite the size disadvantage. His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in closer. "I'll rip you to pieces, newbie," he growled, his voice dripping with malice.

Annakin didn't flinch. His broad shoulders remained squared, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm as he stared down at Carlos. His wolf mask obscured his expression, but his calm, unshakable demeanor spoke louder than any words.

The crowd erupted again, split between chants of "Carlos!" and "Annakin!" as the tension between the fighters grew palpable.

The announcer's voice cut through the noise, commanding the attention of everyone in the arena. "Remember—no use of Resonance! Any form of cheating will lead to immediate disqualification. Keep it clean, fighters."

Ezra raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. No Resonance?he thought. So it's all raw strength and skill? This just got interesting.

The announcer paused for dramatic effect, letting the tension simmer before delivering the final call. "May the fight begin!"

The crowd exploded once more, the deafening noise shaking the very ground beneath Ezra's feet. In the ring, Carlos was the first to move, lunging forward with surprising speed for a man his size. His fists swung in a blur, aimed directly at Annakin's head.

But Annakin was ready.

With an almost lazy grace, the giant sidestepped Carlos's attack, his movements precise and efficient. Carlos's punch sailed harmlessly past, and before he could recover, Annakin lashed out with a swift knee to the ribs.

The impact echoed through the arena like a thunderclap, and Carlos stumbled back, his smirk replaced by a grimace of pain.

The crowd roared in approval, their cheers mixed with gasps at Annakin's speed and power. Ezra leaned forward, unable to tear his eyes away from the fight.

"He's not just big," Ezra muttered to himself, "he's fast."

Carlos straightened, his expression darkening as he wiped a trickle of blood from his lip. "You're gonna regret that," he snarled, launching himself at Annakin once more.

Annakin stood his ground, his massive frame rooted like a mountain. The air between them seemed to ripple with intensity as the battle truly began.

Fists flew, bodies collided, and the ring trembled under their weight.

Ezra's heart pounded in his chest, the sheer ferocity of the fight leaving him spellbound.

And yet, through it all, Annakin remained silent. No taunts, no boasts, no wasted movement. He was a force of nature, calm and unrelenting, as he faced Carlos's fury head-on.

Ezra couldn't help but feel a strange mix of admiration and unease as the fight raged on. Who are you, Annakin? He wandered , his eyes never leaving the lone wolf in the ring.