"AFTER THAT SMASHING FINISH TO THE LAST FIGHT, IT'S NOW TIME TO RAPIDLY MOVE ON TO THE SECOND BRAWL OF TODAY! AND GIVEN HOW MUCH OUR UPCOMING CONTESTANTS HAVE PROVEN THEY LOVE TO FIGHT, IT'S SURE TO BE ONE HELL OF AN EVENT!"
After the slugfest that was the climax of Goh'ji's and Root's match, the audience were fired up and ready for more. The amount of eyes that currently weren't focused on the illuminated left gate were probably less than 600. So when a large figure set foot on the battlefield, the crowd was ready to turn up the volume once more.
"IN THE BLUE CORNER, THE HAMMER OF TEMPUS STRIKES AGAIN! AFTER DEFEATING CONTESTANT BASTION IN THE FIRST ROUND WITH AN AWE-INSPIRING SHOW OF STRENGTH, DEVOTION AND HONOUR, HE RETURNS TO FACE OFF AGAINST HIS SECOND ROBOTIC OPPONENT IN A ROW! WILL HIS UNFLINCHING BELIEFS OVERPOWER HIS FOE, OR WILL HIS CRUSADE BE CANCELLED? GIVE IT UP FOR: CONTESTAAAANT OWEN!"
Despite the loud approving roars of the surrounding crowd, Owen did nothing more than smile and wave to address them. He really wasn't one to brag about his capabilities or image, even if he by most standards had a lot of it. Eventually he reached the centre of the arena whereupon he planted his greatsword in the ground, awaiting his opponent's entrance.
"AND IN THE RED COR-"
Just like in the first round, Googlorp's introductory speech was interrupted by an orange figure darting out from the right corridor. The artificial fighter made a small jump in the middle of his dash, before dramatically sliding to a halt. After about 2 seconds holding his pose, he reared forwards with both arms - sword in each hand - outstretched.
"THE STRENGTH OF A FALLING METEOR, THE SPEED OF A LIGHTNING BOLT AND THE FORTITUDE OF A MOUNTAIN! ALL HELD TOGETHER BY A FIGHTING SPIRIT TO BLOT OUT THE SUN! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHO STANDS IN MY PATH, I WILL BREAK THROUGH IT ALL AND I WON'T LOOK DOWN! BRING IT ON! PRIME, THE METAL RANGER! HYAAH!"
Prime, the Metal Ranger, ended his passionate speech with another holographic explosion behind him. And just like before the audience erupted in adoring cheers, this time accompanied by repeated chants of his name. They had come to love the daring warrior and his unique personality, and he was more than happy to give them what they wanted. But about half a minute of posing and waving later, Prime turned his gaze over towards the amused Owen. Pointing his right sword towards him as he did so.
"Nice to meet you, buddy! I don't know about you, but I'm itching to get started! Don't think for a moment that I'll go easy on you though!" Prime announced.
Owen simply laughed as his metallic opponent greeted him, putting his arms to his sides as he did so. He responded to Prime's gesture in kind by pointing his own greatsword towards the robot with only his right arm, showing no signs of strain despite the weight of his two-handed weapon.
"Hahaha, same to you, my friend! I promise I will throw everything I have at you, so let's make this a good one!" the Dragonborn chuckled.
Prime couldn't help but gulp, or at least the closest equivalent to one as his artificial nature would let him. Owen's sheer strength truly was even more intimidating up close. But for the sleek warrior, that only made this even more exciting. With a shared nod, the two fighters turned around to get into position. The time for action was now.
The fighters were tense. The audience was silent. And the Plasmoid known as Googlorp was prepared to open the floodgates and begin the match.
"3!"
"2!"
"1!"
"BEGIN!"
The now familiar explosion lit up the starry sky, announcing to all that the fight was officially on.
To nobody's surprise, Prime rushed in first. His straight arms were adjacent to his torso; a neutral stance which could quickly switch to a multitude of differing positions without giving himself away to the enemy. He then moved his left arm to line up with the other one on his right side, before raising both blades upwards to move in for a diagonal strike. The slower Owen only had about two seconds to react; at the last moment, he raised his heavy sword up to block the attack.
[KLANG!]
While he had managed to avoid having his shoulder cut wide open, Owen's reactionary block had still left him vulnerable. Something Prime was more than ready to exploit. Almost faster than the excited crowd's eyes could follow, the martial artist moved in for a heavy spin kick. The impact from the attack resulted in a low grunt from Owen - but nothing more. The giant Dragonborn had barely even flinched.
Prime was left stunned for a moment, frozen in place with his left leg planted in Owen's midsection. On one hand, he hadn't put his full strength behind his kick; for better or for worse, he had a tendency to hold back during matches like these in order to make the fun last longer. But on the other hand, Owen hadn't taken any visible damage at all. And unfortunately for the much thinner robot, the heavy gut punch that had just struck his stomach left a much bigger impact.
With a loud thud, Prime was sent flying almost 5 metres backwards before skidding to a halt back-first. Whatever movements he could muster had become erratic from the sheer pain felt in his stomach, and one look at the point of impact could tell you why. If one were to look beneath his blue martial arts gi, they would see a massive dent left in the warrior's lower torso. If he'd been made of flesh and blood, his guts would've been turned to literal mush. This was the strength of Owen Whitlock, and if Prime had been able to think clearly right now he'd most likely be in awe. Unfortunately for him, his overworked pain replicators made him all but blind to the world around him. Including the hulking Dragonborn carrying a greatsword now running towards him.
"I applaud your attempt, young warrior! Let's see if you can top that!" Owen bellowed as he approached his opponent.
Prime might have been dazed, but Owen was not about to let himself underestimate his metallic foe. He'd had a frontline seat to see him take down his good friend Morgan after all. If he dropped his focus even for a moment, he'd be on the receiving end of two sharp blades. And while his skin was very tough, it usually wasn't that tough. Thus he swung the greatsword with all the force his giant muscles could muster. But right as the paladin revved up his strike, the stunned Prime jolted in place. He'd regained his senses, and not a moment too soon.
"Whoa whoa WHOA!" Prime yelled out as his reflexes took over.
At the last second, he reared backwards until his back was almost completely horizontal. Thus the hefty blade swung right over him, only a few inches away from his face. Before the alarm could get to him, the martial artist threw himself backward into a handstand somersault in order to create some distance. He needed some to get his next special move going.
"CONTESTANT PRIME MAKES THE FIRST MOVE, HOWEVER IT LOOKS LIKE HIS SPIN KICK HAD NO EFFECT IN THE SLIGHTEST! BUT CONTESTANT OWEN'S GUT PUNCH WAS A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT STORY! THE METAL RANGER BETTER HAVE SOME EXTRA OOMPH IN STORE, OTHERWISE HE CAN KISS THAT SPOT IN THE SEMIFINALS GOODBYE!"
Luckily for the Metal Ranger, he did in fact have some extra oomph in store. Almost as soon as he was back on his feet after the somersault, he once again made a beeline for his draconic foe. But this time he didn't launch himself into another attack. Instead he kept running even after getting right up close to the prepared Dragonborn. Prime was now literally running circles around Owen, not staying in one place for even a moment. The herculean paladin followed his movements as best he could, his body tensing up for the right moment to counterattack. Until finally that moment came.
Without warning, Prime suddenly stopped right behind Owen - exactly what the experienced giant had expected. Before Prime had a chance to rev up another dual slice, Owen violently turned around with the greatsword in both hands. And with a rumbling grunt, he thrusted it towards the metallic warrior's lower body. But Prime didn't even flinch. If he had possessed a mouth, he would have been flashing a massive grin right now; Owen had taken the bait. With a fierce yell, the robot lept straight upwards into the air. And with a low grunt, he landed feet first on top of his opponent's broad weapon.
The Dragonborn's eyes widened - that was not the manoeuvre he'd been expecting. Reflexively, he thrusted his sword upwards to shake off the blue-clad figure perched on top of it. As he did so, his opponent found himself letting out a snicker. Owen just kept doing exactly what he wanted him to. Prime, aided by the leverage and by his own powerful leg hydraulics, had been launched several metres straight up in the air. With Owen right beneath him, it was time to unleash one of his trademark special moves.
Thanks to his limb-mounted rocket thrusters, the orange fighter turned himself around in midair until he was facing the massive paladin beneath him. His sharp twin swords were aligned with him, pointing straight towards his opponent. And as the force of gravity took over, Prime activated the thrusters in his right arm and leg. Owen looked up to see a spinning robot careening towards him, blades first and screaming the name of his attack at the top of his voice modulator.
"DRILL BREAK!"
For a brief moment, upon hearing the attack's name, the cheering audience felt like it sounded familiar. But those thoughts completely dissipated as a loud roar filled the air. Owen hadn't been able to block or avoid the move in time, and thus his entire torso was now in serious pain as the blades had managed to pierce his skin. Then another strong sting of agony as Prime made contact with the ground in front of him, whereupon he quickly pulled out the swords from Owen's chest. The Drill Break hadn't hit any vital organs or cracked any bones, but it had opened up a large bleeding wound square in his right pectoral muscle. And with his first good hit landed, Prime wasted no time in moving in for another one.
However, Owen proved himself quick to recover. He managed to deflect Prime's incoming dual side slash with his own sword, before forcing him back with another quick sweep. Too haphazardly to even come close to hitting the nimble robot, but sudden enough to necessitate him to leap back. As Prime regained his footing a few metres away, the brawny paladin used what little time he'd just gained to come to a decision. While the martial artist was leagues weaker than him, he could also attack much faster and still hit hard enough to deal some serious damage. It was only a matter of time until he'd landed enough strikes to take Owen out of the fight, and even though he was frail enough that maybe two or three more greatsword slashes would be enough the odds still currently looked to be in Prime's favour. The paladin needed enough power to win this in as few moves as possible and enough durability to get to that point. Luckily he had just the thing for that - if he could find an opportunity to employ it, that is.
"CONTESTANT PRIME'S DRILL PIERCES NOT ONLY THE HEAVENS, BUT HIS OPPONENT'S HIDE AS WELL! NOW BOTH SIDES HAVE DEALT ONE HEAVY HIT EACH, AND FROM THE LOOKS OF IT THEY BOTH HURT LIKE HELL! INTENSE STRENGTH AND SKILL ARE ON FULL DISPLAY FOR ALL TO SEE, SO I HOPE YOU'RE TAKING IT ALL IN AS MUCH AS I AM, FOLKS!"
Prime didn't lose his momentum even for a second. The automaton rushed in once more with both swords at the ready, this time clearly gunning towards Owen's wounded chest. However, these intentions were clear as day; Owen effortlessly parried the dual slash with his greatsword. But Prime didn't let that slow him down, instead making a u-turn into another rushdown attempt. With the same results. But as the orange warrior launched a third failed assault, his opponent began to figure out why. A notable worry creeping up on his face as he did so.
The repeated sword strikes were haphazard, random even. None of them appeared to have any reasoning behind them other than "attack some part of Owen's body". But that was not the case. The hulking Dragonborn had realised that this assault wasn't meant to wear down his body, but rather his stamina. Sooner or later all his improvised blocking would tire him out, and as a robot it was possible Prime didn't need to worry about exhausting himself at all. Maybe. Owen didn't exactly know how his opponent functioned; perhaps he could tire out and this really was a reckless barrage. Regardless it did prevent the paladin from seizing that window of opportunity he needed to turn the tide. He needed to break Prime's rhythm if he wanted to prevail, and soon.
As the artificial fighter gave it his all on the battlefield, his creator followed his every move with dark brown eyes. Abigail had managed to get a frontrow seat - to the detriment of the much shorter Gameron behind her - for the action, and this particular action she wouldn't miss for the world. With every swing of a blade, her gaze moved as well. With every blow landed, her body winced. The inventor crossed her enormous arms as she leaned backwards in her seat; this whole interdimensional trip became more worth it by the hour.
"Excuse me madam, is this seat taken?"
Abigail's head turned right to see a smooth blue figure with a set of huge jaws smiling towards her. The aquatic hybrid of Universe 11 - Morgan Sarun, if she remembered correctly.
"I just went to the bathroom after cheering on my friend, and when I got back all the good seats seemed to have been taken! Do you mind if I sit here?" Morgan asked.
The Half-Orc took a quick look around her, noting that most seats had indeed been taken. The only ones left other than the one to her right were either way off to the side or, in one case, right behind the towering mountain of muscle known as Alva Morrison. With an inviting smile on her face, Abigail motioned to the seat right next to her.
"Not at all, feel free to join me!" the inventor cheerfully exclaimed.
The reptilian marine's face lit up for a moment, before sitting down next to Abigail. It didn't even take a second for Morgan to reach out his hand towards the Half-Orc.
"Nice to properly meet you, Miss Abigail Harlow! We haven't really had the chance to talk, have we?" Morgan proclaimed.
The inventor fell silent for a second, not being used to such abrupt friendliness. This tournament seemed to be teeming with people like that. Nevertheless, she quickly clasped Morgan's hand in a firm handshake.
"Just Abby is fine, thank you! But likewise, it's nice to meet you!" Abigail replied.
Morgan simply answered with a friendly nod, although he did have to conceal a whimper escaping his throat. That Half-Orc's grip was fantastically strong. Regardless, the Mosasaurus hybrid tried his best to ignore the pain as he struck up a conversation.
"So who's your money on? Prime is damn good at this, but I'm still betting on Owen to take the win. Heck, now with that behemoth out of the game he might just win this whole thing!" Morgan guffawed, making sure that his words weren't heard by Alva a couple rows behind him.
Abigail couldn't help but smile at this, even having to prevent herself from snickering. She simply motioned towards Prime on the battlefield, still keeping Owen busy with his relentless assault.
"I don't think so. Whitlock might be pretty damn strong, but he won't win this. Even if he does manage to get through Prime, he relies too much on brute force. Meanwhile everyone else that made it to the quarterfinals either has a lot of smarts, raw firepower or both. As a matter of fact, I think Prime does have what it takes to take him down. I should know, I built him after all!" Abigail said, warmly laughing as she reached the last sentence.
"You… built him? Like the way you'd build a house or something?" Morgan stuttered.
As someone from a much less technologically advanced universe than Abigail and Prime, he was left speechless at the notion of someone being smart enough to simply build a life from nothing. He'd thought of Prime as a soul bound to a set of armour or something along those lines. But if Abigail noticed her fellow contestant's impressed silence, she didn't pay it any mind.
"Something like that. But that's not why I believe he'll win. See, I only created his body. I gave him legs with which to move forward, I gave him arms with which to forge his own path and I gave him a mind with which to guide him through life. But that personality of his, that burning passion for the fight, I did not put there. He will not stop fighting until he either wins or until he physically can't fight anymore. As long as your Dragonborn friend can't match that spirit, then he's got no chance!" the mechanic declared, a stable earnesty filling her words.
Morgan fell silent, but he still wasn't fully convinced. He'd been at the receiving end of Prime's full strength, and he knew it was far inferior to Owen's. Especially since his draconian friend had yet to show the full extent of his ability. But Abigail's little speech had not only given him an immense respect for the burly mechanic, but also for his former opponent. As well as a steadily growing curiosity.
"So if you know all about how he works, would you say you would beat him if you two ended up facing each other here? Forgive me if I sound intrusive, I just got curious after everything you just… revealed" Morgan questioned.
Abigail reared forward, her head resting against her hands. Her attention turned back towards the battlefield as she chuckled a bit.
"Who knows?"
By now, Prime had launched what must have been over 20 rapid sword strikes towards the still defensive Owen. But eventually one side began to show signs of wear and tear. The blue-clad robot went in for a dual sword thrust, charging in one more time towards his steady opponent - only to be stopped dead in his tracks by two ponderous hands grabbing his wrists. He had finally slowed down enough for Owen to halt him. The huge Dragonborn let out a small sigh of relief; Prime was indeed capable of tiring out. After all, even he must've had some sort of power source that could be depleted. The artificial fighter grunted and wriggled as he tried to free himself, but to no avail. It was probably easier to get his hands out of solid rock than it was to get them out of Owen's grip. But unluckily for him, he wouldn't have to be stuck here for long.
With a heavy grunt, the brawny Paladin reared his massive arms backward; Prime still firmly clutched between them. And moments later the robot found himself soaring through the air like a missile as Owen threw him with all his might. He only regained his focus moments before hitting the ground, quickly bracing himself for impact.
[BAROOM!]
The martial artist shook his head as the dust around him settled. As he staggered to his feet, he took a moment to go over the situation. Luckily he'd managed to prevent taking any serious damage from the fall, but he had been thrown what must have been over 10 metres away from Owen. Not only that, but he'd managed to drop his swords during his brief flight. But worst of all was what his opponent was up to. Prime's visor shot wide open as he saw his opponent's glowing frame swell larger and larger right in front of him.
With a rumbling grunt, Owen finished his transformation. Thanks to the distance he'd created between himself and Prime, he'd had enough time to pray to Tempus for the strength he needed to win once again. And thus just like in his fight with Bastion one round earlier, every muscle in his enormous body had been pumped up like balloons. Something the audience took in with a mix of excitement and delight, and something Prime took in with a mix of excitement and fear. But that was nothing compared to what Owen did next. Instead of approaching Prime, he tensed up in place as his overgrown body began to quake and rumble. And with a loud roar that shook the gasping audience to their core the paladin started to power up even more.
Owen's frame had already been unbelievably huge, and yet it was growing even bigger. The muscles in his arms, legs, chest and back all increased in size, to the point that it must have been hard for him to even move. And when he stopped, Prime was left stuttering at the sight. The Dragonborn's arm alone must have been twice as thick as he was, not to mention his legs - the fact that he could still walk with thighs that muscular was a borderline miracle. Eventually though, the robot was shaken out of his silence by Owen's loud - albeit unchanged from before he powered up - voice ringing through the air.
"Well then my boy, this is everything I have! Come now, show me what you got. See if you can topple a hammer of Tempus when he's not holding anything back!"
Prime had no answer for Owen's boast. He'd barely been able to damage the Dragonborn before, but now? That seemed completely impossible. Exactly the kind of odds he liked. His V-shaped head crest lowered a bit to form a determined scowl, followed by him rearing his body forward in preparation for his next attack. If there ever was a time to go all out, it was now.
"Hehe… alright then. Let's finish this, hammer of Tempus!" the automaton yelled out before rushing up right towards the overgrown paladin.
Other than spreading his cumbersome arms wide open, Owen didn't move an inch. Whatever Prime was going to throw at him, he would take it head-on. Right now however, Prime's mind was somewhere between thrilled ecstasy and rampant panic. The thought of picking up his dropped swords didn't even occur to him. Instead he put all the power he could spare into his arm hydraulics; if blades didn't work, then maybe fists would. With a loud battle cry, the robot struck Owen's stomach with the strongest punch he could muster.
To nobody's surprise, the Dragonborn didn't even flinch. Prime did not let up however, instead throwing another rapid hook. Then another. And another. Soon the artificial warrior was launching a barrage of punches into Owen's rigid stomach, each one hitting faster than the eye could follow and with enough force to dent iron. None of which had any visible effect. Prime finished his assault with one final full-power punch, capped off with his name for the punch rush.
"METAL GATLING RUSH!"
Every part of the robot's steaming arms was aching in pain from not only the great amount of effort they'd just been put through, but also from repeatedly punching what had felt like a stone wall. And to Prime's horror, Owen had reacted like one too. Over a hundred punches and not a single one had even made him budge. He was so stunned that he didn't even notice Owen's fist on his chest until it was too late.
[THUNK!]
The warrior was knocked down on his knees, loudly gasping in pain despite not needing to breathe in the first place. All from a small punt that couldn't have taken any effort at all. Prime shakily looked up towards his hulking foe in disbelief; what in the nine hells was he?
"Uurgh… what did you do? H-how did you power up a second time? Is this what the power of Tempus is all about?" Prime whimpered.
Owen simply slammed his fist into his palm while laughing, the impact alone being loud enough to make Prime shudder.
"Enhance Ability, son! I believe your Half-Orc friend did the same thing back during her fight!" the paladin bellowed.
Of course. Now that he said it out loud it was all so obvious. Prime had seen Abigail use that very spell several times, and even if it was visually different the effects on Owen were more or less the exact same. And not only was his use of the spell most likely divine in nature, he also came from a universe that might have had completely different natural laws - it only made sense that his version would appear different from Abigail's. If Prime had a mouth, it would have formed a grin. Now he knew what he was up against, and he knew what weaknesses he could exploit. However, his train of thought was interrupted. By the strongest hand he'd ever seen hoisting him up by the back of his gi.
"Well my friend, I'm afraid the fun is over. I've given you a shot to take me down, but this is still a competition. However, I want you to know this has been an absolutely wondrous fight. Please give my regards to your genius creator - she's created a miracle" the paladin stated.
Prime tried to find a retort, but failed. He was in no position to fight back; even if he could hurt Owen, the Dragonborn's arms were so much longer than his. The robot couldn't reach him from where he was hanging. But still he kept resisting. He might've been compromised, but he wasn't out yet. However, that was about to change. Courtesy of the titanic fist that crashed into his chest.
[WHAMM!]
Prime had been in catastrophic pain before. He'd fought dragons, giants and warriors a hundred times as old as he was. But they were nothing compared to the meteoric force that was Owen Whitlock's fist. He didn't even register the pain of crashing back-first into the ground almost 15 metres away from ground zero. And while he was still conscious, it was just barely. His glowing eyes were rapidly flickering, his limbs were twitching and sparks were flying from all over his body. Especially around his torso - or rather, the massive hole that almost went all the way through him.
"OH MY L… DID YOU SEE THAT, FOLKS? I THINK EVEN I FELT THE IMPACT OF THAT ONE! CONTESTANT OWEN NOT ONLY JUICES HIMSELF UP TO PRACTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE LEVELS, HE UNLOADS ALMOST ALL OF IT INTO ONE DEVASTATING ATTACK! AND YET, CONTESTANT PRIME IS STILL ALIVE! BUT HOW LONG CAN HE REMAIN THAT WAY? HAS THE METAL RANGER FINALLY REACHED HIS LIMIT?"
Any organic person would have been killed immediately from such an enormous impact. But Prime was still alive. Call it luck, call it toughness or call it sheer force of will, but he was still alive. What was left of his body was practically screaming at him to stop fighting, but despite this he slowly staggered to his feet. His flickering eyes glaring at Owen all the while Googlorp's words echoed throughout his head.
"...Limit? LIMIT?! To blazes with that! I don't care how many muscles you have, I won't allow myself to go down! I'll leave my limits in the dust if I have to, because I WILL defeat you! I am Prime, the Metal Ranger! AND THE METAL RANGER NEVER BACKS DOWN!" the damaged automaton shouted.
All of Prime's mental strength went to simply keeping himself moving. He could only keep fighting for a few brief moments more, even less if he was hit again even once. But there was no hesitation in his mind. No doubt, no regrets and no fear. His body was on the edge of collapse, but still he refused to go down. Even in the face of ultimate power, he would stare into it without flinching. Never ever giving in to his own limits. That was just who he was.
With another battle cry, Prime charged in once again. On the way towards Owen he made sure to pick up his dropped swords; clearly, if he was going to win this it would be with those and not his fists. His main core - located roughly where a human heart would be - had been all but destroyed, leaving him with only whatever remained of the power it'd generated before that. He would only have roughly one minute where he could fight at full strength. But as long as he could avoid taking another hit then that would be all he needed. Especially since he had finally found a weakness.
The contented but cautious Owen kept his guard up as his sleek foe rapidly approached him with blades in hand. He had plenty of time until his boost would run out and Prime was clearly on his last legs, but he still wanted to end the fight as soon as possible. Thus he waited for Prime to come for him. And eventually, he did. The brawny Dragonborn tensed up his gigantic arm to throw another steel-breaking punch…
…But by the time he finished it the robot had already sliced him twice in the back. By the time he'd pulled the arm back, he'd been hit three more times in his other arm. And by the time he threw a second punch, Prime had dashed around him twice to land two more attacks. Luckily for Owen, his engorged muscles were so dense that his many cut wounds remained pressed shut - none of his blood even left his body. But this was when the paladin realised his mistake.
Despite being almost mortally broken, the martial artist was still extremely fast. Faster than Owen was even in his regular form, and especially now while he was this huge. While the paladin's muscles were strong enough to bust through thick steel, as a consequence they were so large that they obstructed each other. He could barely bend his arm without his bicep being hindered by his chest, nor move his legs without his thighs blocking each other. In other words, he had gained immense power at the cost of speed and movement; speed which was crucial to contend with Prime. After all, all the power in the world can't help you if you can't hit your opponent.
"Can't move, big guy? Thought as much! Then again, I'm almost at the end of my rope as well. So the next few seconds will decide everything!" Prime shouted.
Despite his blades not appearing to cause any harm more severe than that of a papercut, the busted construct kept slashing and dashing for all his worth. Owen could do no more than grunt in frustration as his tough skin received more and more wounds, his cumbersome fists missing his opponent by a country mile. And after what must have been almost 50 slashes all over his body, the paladin finally felt something. A sharp pain in the hollows of his knees - arguably the least protected part of his body - as Prime finished his attack with a full-power slash across them.
"DANGER FLURRY!"
Having spent the last few minutes of the fight appearing to be borderline invincible, Owen was not prepared for the sudden pain from having the back of his legs torn open. The shock was enough to force him down on his knees - exactly what Prime wanted. Not wasting any time, the robot jumped up on top of the paladin's massive back. And with all the power his leg thrusters could muster he lept several metres straight up into the air.
"FINISHIIIING MOVE!"
As soon as he reached the peak of his jump, he once again used his thrusters to turn around until he was facing his grounded foe. And just like before his twin swords were pointed straight down.
"GIGA…"
The thrusters in his right arm and leg kicked in at full strength, causing the damaged warrior to spin around even faster than before.
"DRILL…"
Within seconds Prime had reached the highest speed he could spin at under his own power. Thus as gravity took over, he instead redirected all the power he could spare into his legs. The audience were at the edge of their seats as the determined fighter had essentially turned himself into a drill. A drill that was rapidly careening towards the reeling Owen.
"BREAK!"
[KSSCCCHHH!]
The arena became filled with 3 separate loud noises. The sharp churning from Prime's somehow awfully familiar-sounding finishing move that tore up Owen's exposed back, the guttural scream of pain from the Dragonborn and the horrified collective gasp of the crowd. The attack itself only lasted a few seconds before Prime lost his momentum and shakily set foot upon the ground, but for his opponent the agony lasted much longer than that. It was quite the good thing that Owen had no way of laying eyes on his back; the large messy hole going all the way to his spine was not a pretty sight. But that was far from the least concerning consequence of Prime's finisher. As Owen completely lost his focus on his power-up, he rapidly began to shrink down to his usual frame. And that was when the blood started erupting.
"GRRAAAAARRGGH!"
Before this moment all the wounds from Prime's attacks had been mitigated by the paladin's enormous muscles being too dense to allow them to open up. They had remained pressed together, not letting more than a few thin drips of blood leave his body. But with that defence gone these cuts were all opening up at the same time. Over 50 large slashing wounds across every part of Owen's body were spouting fountains of red blood. The sight was enough for a majority of the audience to avert their gaze; even Prime had to shield his eyes from such a horrifying sight.
That much pain and blood loss would be too much for anyone to handle. And Owen Whitlock was no exception. With his white scales having been coated in a deep red and his primal scream slowly dying down, the Dragonborn's bulky body hit the ground with a huge thud. And while he was still - albeit barely - breathing, he was not moving. But Prime was. His energy levels were critical and his arms were limp, but yet he was still standing. His yellow eyes filled with a determination that held his broken body together just long enough to see this fight through.
For a brief moment the only sound that could be heard were the mortified mumbling of the audience. A mumbling that completely disappeared upon the sight of a black-and-white clad fairy fluttering over to the ravaged Dragonborn. She quickly opened her mouth to speak, finally signalling the end of this harsh and gruelling battle.
"10!"
"9!"
"8!"
"7!"
"6!"
"5!"
"4!"
"3!"
"2!"
"1!"
"K.O!"
"WHAT A DRAMATIC FINISH TO THIS BRUTAL BOUT! CONTESTANT OWEN HELD AN OVERWHELMING ADVANTAGE FOR MOST OF THE FIGHT, BUT IN THE END CONTESTANT PRIME WENT AGAINST ALL ODDS AND OUTLASTED HIM! I DON'T THINK THERE'S BEEN A SINGLE MATCH IN THIS CONTEST THAT WENT DOWN TO THE WIRE THIS MUCH, FOLKS - THIS ENDED UP BEING UNBELIEVABLY CLOSE!"
Despite the steadily rising cheers and roars from the audience, Prime barely registered any of it. His remaining power levels had to be at less than 5% right now, quite possibly even as low as 0.2%. And yet he refused to fall. He had to remain standing if this victory were to mean anything to him. At least he was better off than the unconscious Owen bleeding out on the floor, if only marginally. Fortunately neither side had to suffer for much longer; the dim pearlescent healing light began to take shape across the field.
The effects were immediate for both fighters. The hole in Prime's chest closed up with all his internal systems reforming, his limp arms regained their mobility and his energy levels were restored to 100%. Meanwhile Owen's many cut wounds closed up, the open gorge on his back was healed and his torn legs fixed up completely. Even the sheet of blood covering his body was cleaned up. And as the field of light disappeared upon its job being completed, the defeated Dragonborn opened his blue eyes. His gaze immediately falling upon the beaming Prime standing right in front of him.
"Oh man, that was awesome! I don't think I've ever fought anyone at your level before! Great fight buddy, great fight!" the ecstatic construct giddily shouted.
Owen was disappointed that he'd lost the fight, sure. Yet he couldn't feel anything else but contentment over the last minutes. He'd done all he could and used all the strength he could muster; it just hadn't been enough. His opponent had thought more clever than he had, finding out and playing around his big weakness and all. In the end, the winds of Tempus had favoured the Metal Ranger today. With a smile on his face, the Dragonborn slowly rose to his feet. All that was left was to finish this amazing battle with the classic handshake.
"Same to you, my boy! Skill like yours is hard to come across, and I'm proud to have been bested by your hand. But don't stop here! Keep forging your path forward until you have taken the top spot! Starting by giving that good friend of yours the clash you both deserve!" the satisfied paladin stated, looking up towards the fired-up Goh'ji atop the stands.
Prime fiercely nodded in agreement, before turning his eyes towards his blue-scaled rival as well. Their eyes were almost visibly burning with excitement; they had finally made it. All other contenders between them had been bested, and now they could finally settle things. They could finally face each other earnestly and at full strength. They could finally have their long anticipated fight. The upcoming semifinals couldn't come soon enough.
"AND WITH THAT, LET'S THANK CONTESTANT OWEN FOR HIS HERCULEAN PERFORMANCE! AND LET'S CONGRATULATE CONTESTANT PRIME FOR CARVING HIS WAY TOWARDS THE SECOND VICTORY OF THE QUARTERFINALS! BUT WE STILL HAVE TWO MORE FIGHTS TO WITNESS TODAY, AND THE NEXT ONE IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER! WHO WILL WIN: CULTIVATED BATTLE EXPERIENCE OR AMASSED BATTLE KNOWLEDGE? DON'T LEAVE YOUR SEATS FOLKS: THE FIGHT HAS JUST BEGUN!"
As the two warriors turned around to leave the stage, a couple walls away a bulky tiefling smiled as she adjusted her wide-brimmed hat. Ashes had been preparing herself for her turn on the battlefield down in the left waiting room, marvelling over not only the fight itself but also the strange screen she saw it on. What a remarkable device, this "television". A way to see things far away in real time on some wondrous electric screen? Hopefully someone back home would get the idea for that sometime within her lifetime. Nevertheless, this was hardly the time to admire the science of the multiverse. Right now she had a fight to attend to. The Tiefling went over to pick up her revolver from the bench, before turning around to head towards the field. Which was when she bumped right into Owen.
"Ow! Sorry 'bout that, feller" the farmgirl muttered.
Owen had been deep in thought himself regarding his battle, thus not seeing Ashes until they had already slammed into each other. And while neither side was hurt, they did both get quite the shock. Although that did wear off quick enough for the paladin to apologise quickly.
"Ah don't worry miss, that one was on me. A thousand apologies. Don't let me hold you up though, good luck with your battle out there!" Owen said.
"Right, uh… thanks, big guy!" Ashes flimsily responded as Owen left the room.
For a brief moment, her cheeks turned even redder than usual. That was… embarrassing. She shook her head to clear her thoughts; she could worry about having made a fool of herself later. Right now she was gonna go out and have some fun. The brawny Tiefling put her hands in her longcoat's pockets as her smile returned - there were few things that got her heart racing as much as a good brawl after all.
"Well, I've got to get out there and show my face before they all lose their patience completely. Congrats again my friend, I'll try to aim for your standards!" Abigail gleefully said to her creation in the other waiting room.
"Kick her ass, Abby! I'll make sure to root for ya as much as I can! And then… I'll see you in the finals!" Prime answered.
Around the same time as Ashes finished her awkward encounter with Owen, the mechanic had finished congratulating her pride and joy for his victory. There had been a lot of commendations, excitable retellings and praises, but Abigail did have a fight to attend to after all. As the cheerful robot left for the watching area, the Half-Orc let out a small chuckle.
"Heh, 'see you in the finals'. Only he could say that with a straight face" the inventor whispered to herself, smiling all the while.
That smile only grew wider the closer she got to the cacophonous arena. She couldn't help but notice her steadily rising excitement; her heart was beating much faster than it had merely a few minutes earlier. If you'd asked Abigail about her thoughts on fighting just one week ago, the best answer you would've gotten would be a disinterested "nothing special". But right now she couldn't wait to get going. Maybe Prime had rubbed off more on her than she'd thought. And given what she knew about her opponent, that was very much a good thing. She was gonna need all the fighting spirit she could get.
The quarterfinals of the Multiversal Tournament had only reached the halfway point, and it was not about to slow down in the slightest.