There was no ceremony.
No confetti, no victory parade.Just med-bots wheeling broken bodies out of the arena, and silent observers logging data they didn't fully understand.
Damien Thorne had won.But what he triggered was much bigger than a championship.
Headlines lit up across planetary networks:
"Golden-Eyed Fighter Breaks AI Combat Logic.""A God of Fists? Damien Thorne Defeats Science Itself.""Is Raw Humanity the Final Weapon?"
Commentators debated. Analysts stumbled.No one had a framework for what happened.
The synthetic prototype had labeled Damien 'immeasurable.'Auren—Xyprus' model student, AI-fused, genetically optimized—was bested. Again.
But more unsettling was the footage.
Slowed down, frame by frame—Damien's final stance had elements from multiple styles, some long dead, others never taught in modern systems.
Combat AI couldn't categorize it. Neural databases couldn't replicate it.It was as if his fists spoke a forgotten language.
In Xyprus Academy
He didn't bask in the spotlight.
He refused interviews. Ignored sponsorships. Deleted a contract offer from a military conglomerate before it even finished loading.
Damien simply returned to training.
But everywhere he walked, eyes followed.
Some in awe.Some in fear.Some in envy.
In the Dorms
Mila Evermeere sat watching the raw fight footage over and over again, alone in her lab room.
"Who are you really?" she whispered.
Her hands shook—not in fear, but in anticipation.His growth defied science.He was science's limit.
And she couldn't look away.
Auren Valebright
He recovered in silence.
No resentment. No excuses.
He replayed the match privately in his neural core, analyzing every detail. Then, in a moment that shocked his own AI system—
He deleted the simulation profile on Damien Thorne.
"No more algorithms," he said."From now on—I train as a fighter. Not a formula."
Meanwhile… behind closed doors
Xyprus High Council met in red-lit chambers.Whispers of Damien's genetic profile resurfaced.
"His bones are getting denser. We've never seen growth accelerate post-adolescence.""What if Subject 000 is alive?""What if this boy isn't a mutation… but an inheritance?"
Elsewhere… in the Deep Systems of Null Sanctum
An old voice crackled over black-screen data streams.
"He's more than a fighter. He's the blueprint we failed to perfect.""He didn't reject fusion. He never needed it."
"Initiate: The Starborn Protocol."
Damien didn't know any of that yet.
He just sat in the academy's rooftop alone, a towel over his shoulder, hand still bruised.
He wasn't thinking about gods.Or legacy.Or destiny.
He was just thinking—
"Is this all there is?"