*Rumble*

The apartment creaked and groaned; bits of powdered debris fell off the flaky cream-colored walls. Whilst a man looked deadpan into his own lifeless jet-black eyes in the dust covered mirror in front of him. He had thick onyx locks halfway reaching his shoulders. He stood in front of a debris covered gray three-seater sofa, calmly getting dressed. His tanned chiseled face seemingly oblivious to the very present devastation occurring around him.

"I'm going to be late," he said aloud in a shockingly neutral tone.

While putting his shirt on, he began to admire his body in the mirror in front of him.

'I just can't get used to seeing how ripped I am. How strange?' he thought, almost matter of fact.

His physique was so muscular and defined that he looked like a Mr. Olympia candidate. His muscles visibly rippling against his clothes.

Out of nowhere, hazy music started to project from somewhere in front of him. It was from a severely cracked TV that was on the cabinet next to the mirror he was facing, now slanting destitute against the wall. It unexpectedly flickered back to life.

"Breaking news," a strained feminine voice announced.

"Peace deals between 'The United Countries' and the vertex seem largely unlikely. They claim that due to the human resistance groups' nefarious intentions and the vast amount of lives lost on July 30th and August 5th, they cannot go forward with the proposed deal. Until however, they have eliminated all of the terrorists. They state 'The Vertex have every right to defend themselves'," she calmly conveyed.

'Are they being serious? Why are they bombing in the first place if their goal is to just eliminate terrorists? By bombing, you're also killing civilians and even a small number of your own kind for crying out loud,' the man asserted.

'And even if you miraculously wiped them all out, guess what? The people affected might not be too happy and you will probably end up creating more terrorists, ad infinitum,' he continued venting, his face a stark contrast to the supposed turbulent emotions resounding in his mind.

His frustration was interrupted by the monotone voice of the news anchor.

"Also on the news, the 5 known black holes still appear to be expanding, and as previously predicted, will engulf the earth within the next 2 years."

Provoked with a sense of urgency, the man thought

'Damn, I need to win the bets I've made so I can get off of this deathtrap.'

'Although…' he pondered.

'I don't know what I'm going to do with my life. I don't even remember anything. All I have is my name…Theodore?…which just...doesn't sound right?'

'I'm probably Greek? Since I can understand the language. Apparently I had an accident while working for the vertex company…Ksamyatam? Which I can't even find. And so I was 'compensated generously', but not enough to afford a vertex doctor to restore my lost memories'.

The anchor interrupted again.

"The UC urges people to join the fight in subduing the false realities, as that will stop the black holes once and for all."

'This again? There's no way I'm believing a word that comes from the vertex's puppet, AKA the United Countries' mouth. They don't even let us form groups to fight since it's supposedly 'dangerous' for them. Even with their renowned 'hyper-advanced technology', they want us to go in with small groups? For what? To be killed? No way will I do something as moronic as that. I don't even have someone that I can enough trust to go with me. What could I accomplish by myself? he remarked scornfully.

'I can't believe news companies are trying to draft us for so called 'war' and from the UC no less, so much for world peace-'

*Bzzt*

*Bzzt*

An unassuming thin black phone vibrated incessantly beside him on the arm of the sofa.

'Must be the driver'

As he finished dressing himself, his eyes caught onto 2 unlikely metal objects that were placed on the sofa. A sizable and thick pipe and a sturdy trashcan lid, the handle of which glinted expectantly.

"Almost forgot to take these," he said nonchalantly.

**********************************************************************************

An hour later,

The tremendously large TV display, nearly spanning the width of the arena, showed the images and physical stats of the two fighters.

"Harland is 37 years old but Atkarsh is 50!" an amplified boisterous human voice stated.

"Unlike a human's miserably deteriorating body, for a vertex age is a thing of pride," the grating voice of the alien but perplexingly humanoid, vertex commentator scoffed.

"…Right. Harland is a whole 6 inches taller than Atkarsh, at 6 foot 4 inches with a 3 inch reach difference."

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the match you have been waiting for. Wearing the blue trunks in the blue corner is the current KFC heavyweight champion of the worl-humans. The 'SNIPER GHOST' HARLAND SAAANDERS!!!" the elderly announcer declared grandiosely, wearing a stylish gray suit in the octagon fighting ring.

On the right side of the Octagon was a slightly muscular but athletic, platinum-haired, fair-skinned man. He stood tall with infectious resolve, a serious look brewing in his eyes.

A polarizing mixture of cheering and booing clashed in the arena. The booing clearly coming from one very alien side of the venue.

"I guess the people don't care for more meaningless details," the vortex commentator announced.

'Sure, if 'the people' only include the vertex,' Theodore commented dryly.

"In the Black striped trunks from the planet of Verticia, weighing 396 lbs standing six foot two inches. THE 'UNSTOPPABLE ANIHILATOR' ATKARSH!!!"

A robust four-armed figure stood on the left side of the octagon on his many spider-like jointed legs, two connected in the front of his torso and two in the back. His exoskeleton was significantly thick and raven black, off of which even the light did not gleam. Numerous tiny dot-like indentations lining his body. The air around him menacingly still.

*Thunderous cheering*

'Come on Harland, I know you have what it takes to win this round. All you have to do is survive one round. Just one.'

The referee, an aged dark-skinned man with dreadlocks, came between the fighters. His black-and-white striped shirt the only sense of familiarity remaining.

"I hope for a clean fight. Good luck Harland, you're going to need it," the referee uttered conspicuously loud.

'Wow….even the referee is trash talking.'

"FIGHT!"

"This is going to be a very hard fight for Harland, even with the reach advantage. Atkarsh is a vertex and as you know, they are very well known for their ridiculous strength and their tough exoskeleton. So he's going to have to aim for the joints since they are much softer than the rest of the exoskeleton. And he definitely can't grapple him, since you can't choke someone that can basically 'breathe through their skin'," the human commentator detailed.

The two fighters stepped forth. Harland having adopted a side on karate-like stance, his right arm up protecting his body and chin, his left arm fluidly hovering in front of him. He shuffled towards his opponent cautiously, maintaining the position of his lead left leg, his face etched with grim determination. Meanwhile Atkarsh looked at Harland, his compound eyes mockingly becoming two slits.

*Ptoo*

Atkarsh spat out his equally black gum shield, sending it flying to the colorless floor. Then he raised his chin and spreads his four arms in provocation.

"No way, this is just plain disrespectful. His arms are down, chin up, and no gumshield. Right now, he is defenseless," the human commentator said in complete disbelief.

"Ha, defenseless you say. He needs to make it a fair fight for the human, doesn't he?" the vertex commentator said, his voice dripping with ridicule.

"Well… The question is, will Harland take it?"

"He can either target the leg joints or the head since the body is too well armored to even be considered. This is a very tricky situation. If he goes for a leg kick, then he'll be in range of Atkarsh's counterattack and you don't need me to tell you that being hit by a vertex can easily end a career," the human commentator explained.

"If by career you mean life, then I agree," the vertex commentator laughed dryly

"..."

Harland continued his ginger advance. When as his back leg was about to touch the canvas, his feet executed a short rapid shuffle, his back leg muscles contracting explosively, sending him leaping to Atkarsh. His hips turned violently and his right arm bent into a hook that landed squarely on Atkarsh's chin. His eyes went wide with shock.

*Crunch*

Slight cracks appeared on Atkarsh's chin, which had been turned slightly due to the punch. Small exoskeleton shards flew into the air. Harland winced, immediately retracting his hand and back-stepping out of Atkarsh's attack range. While crimson liquid seeped from the cracks.

"Oooh!!!~ The hook landed flush, that definitely hurt him. He must not have realized how much the padding would protect Harland's hands. I'm sure that if he wasn't wearing gloves, then he would have definitely broken his hand but even still, it seems to have really hurt his fist, the human commentator blurted, his voice strained with fervent excitement.

"That's unbelievable! How dare that human? If he didn't have those gloves, this fight would be over!" the vertex commentator seethed.

"But the majority of combat sports use padded gloves and if you compare them to the KFC gloves, then I would say the 'King Fighting Championship' gloves are on the smaller side."

"Unlike you weak humans, we vertex do not need any sort of pathetic protection for our hands."

'Nice! I was counting on your cockiness Atkarsh. That's one bet won. Now Mr. Sanders, you just need to cook well enough to survive round one,' Theodore thought jovially, contrasting his ever-present deadpan expression.

Atkarsh looking stunned, traced his left hand's fingers over the novel formation of cracks, the fingers picking up traces of blood. Snapped out of his surreal daze, his building anger surged. His compound eyes gleamed ferociously at Harland. He bent his double-jointed legs and arms in unison, soliciting a stir from Harland's muscles in response.

'Is he going to jump?'

Without warning, his legs released the built-up force, sending him soaring to Harland. His arms crossed before him in a X shaped block. The duo now face to face. Harland's body violently twitched, throwing a left hook whilst attempting to step to the side in response. Hoping to avoid the deadly retaliation.

*Crash!*

Despite reacting relatively quickly, he was not ready for the speed of the lunge. Atkarsh's arms crashed against Harland's chest. The impact rattling his body and crushing the air out of his lungs.

*Thud*

Harland's left hook landed lightly afterward. His body flew backwards a few steps, barely managing to remain standing.

*Sharp inhale*

Harland began breathing deeply in order to restore air to his depleted lungs.

Meanwhile Atkarsh's body released bursts of air in mirth. His many hands clutching the back of his head in glee.

"INCREDIBLE! Atkarsh jumped, crashing into Harland from such an unexpected distance. And Harland, stepping to the side, threw a check left hook in response, but Atkarsh was just flying through the air too fast and with too much force. He couldn't land it properly and the force threw him back a bit, nearly sweeping him off his feet. This is just unbelievable! What do you think Samir?" the human commentator asked, sounding restlessly giddy.

"Well Joe. The human champion should of, as they say on your planet, just let the sleeping dragon lie. His ignorance was his downfall. He should have understood his worth sooner," Samir remarked, his voice dense with vanity.

"W-…" Joe stopped himself from responding.