underground figths.

 Darkness Envelops

The room was shrouded in a dense, all-encompassing blackness stretching to the back. They had been fitted with specialized bracelets that detected signs of life - a life bracelet that stubbornly insisted on giving its approval, as if that was the proper way to conduct such rituals, Kei thought.

- He entered the depths with only one thing on his mind: to stay alive. Death was not a business venture. He calmed himself and took a seat in a meditative state, his back against the wall, as far from the others as possible. Using mud, he coated his hair, while all around him were agape at the pit of darkness, teeming with multiple phantoms bearing the weight of humanity.

The other Niko grinned ear-to-ear as if he had anticipated the boy's actions, almost as if he had foreseen his methods or uncovered something no one else had.

Kei wiped the dirt from himself, taking a short breath.

- You have 3 months. In 3 months, one of you must live or die. And the last one standing will be granted all the special techniques I have created, and will become an official member of Worn - the place so many of you desire, with its fame, power, and glory, ushering in a new tomorrow, - the other Niko commented.

The silence was absolute. Some were astonishingly perplexed. The day prior, they had eaten together in the mess hall, and trained together, but now the air was heavy, and each had an aura of solitude, of hardness - kill or be killed. Provisions were scarce, and each was already starting to eye the others warily.

- You each have a special linked bracelet to monitor your vital signs. Try not to break them. The thing is, if you remove yours and are the last one, you could be trapped in this pit forever, buried under 3 meters of earth - not a pleasant way to die, - the other Niko said.  - There is food for 3 months, for one person. I hope the killings won't happen, as that would be a terrible outcome. May the best one win. –

The door closed with a painful groan. Kei kept his eyes closed, ready to make use of the darkness that now enveloped them.

Lu Tian's elimination practices were perhaps the apparent path forward.

Flashback

Lu Tian struck the front of the chin, then the sides of the brain, along with other blows to the back of the cerebrum. Maintaining calm, he felt a foreign energy begin to flow through his body.

Elimination was a technique that, if learned, allowed one to manage the body. It could be induced or practiced. The first method required pressure on certain nerves that performed a neural function of forgetting, removing the body's limiters. Kei had undergone this elimination process, and during it, his body became like a flowing stream.

- Now you can release your full potential. However, it's not that simple. Eliminating is not something everyone can do. A common person can only eliminate 2% without falling into madness. When induced, there is no limit - both good and bad, as it will allow you to surpass the body's limits, but also risk falling into a prison of insanity. At 10%, people will become mentally unstable, - Lu Tian commented.

Kei released the pressures, not fully knowing the power he carried, though he did so with care. His elimination reached 31% - as far as he felt he could maintain sanity. He marked that as his limit, neither going further nor retreating. He had to keep calm, but at 33%, his power was magnificent, even exceeding Advance. Regulating his breathing, he exited the posture and walked, controlling the flow. They repeated the exercise as he acclimated to the power. It was explained that people could improve upon this power, refine it, and that controlled release was the key - the power of Advance, as it was the controlled power that ultimately proved superior.

- Continue controlling it. Next week we'll do a harder, more abrupt stimulation, - Lu Tian said, performing the exercise in quick bursts. The bodily pressure was exhausting his spirit and physique. The liberators were a heavy burden, uniform in their dissonance.

***

The first sounds of combat began to disrupt the room. Kei remained calm, as the others had not detected his hidden presence, obscured by mud and stillness. For now, he sensed no immediate attack, so he focused on stimulating his senses and preparing for the fight.

Suddenly, a deadly fist came hurtling towards his face - a cunning blow from a beast. Kei evaded the first strike and executed a redirection kata, combined with boxing strikes. The boxing blow was enough to incapacitate the fighter. The darkness did not distinguish anyone, and even the scent of spilled blood began to play a cruel trick, as he could feel the rage permeating the space.

Using the wall, Kei swept with a seikuken he had learned on the Ivory Coast. It was a bit rough, but sufficient to create a range, a field that would give him enough space to counter any movement within his attack radius.

Cries, laments, and groans came from all sides - a tribulation of men laden with sorrow and distress. The beasts were emerging, and the weakest or most foolish were the first to fall. Kei was more accustomed to the darkness, his eyes clear, able to make out silhouettes just a couple of feet in front of him.

They attacked in quick flashes, each one inciting the beast within, but Kei encompassed his rational, analytical side, employing a formless style while blending his preferred boxing and grappling techniques.

- How painful, - Kei murmured, striking without pause.

His mentality was slowly being consumed, the flashes fading. Kei leaned back against the wall, needing to calm his spirit. The greatest risk was his mind - fighting in such an environment was a madness rarely witnessed up close.

- Kill, - was the word Kei heard most often, each scream echoing vividly, his ears scandalized like bottles, as his state began to unravel, while others observed in loss, driven by the instinct for survival and the fear born in their hearts - a fear they had never experienced so deeply, almost like a thief arriving home, pointing a revolver at their face, firing without mercy, watching life escape.

Kei kept striking, taking hard blows that forced him to crouch. A kick came at his face, and he used the adamantine kata, but unfortunately, his opponent used the same kata and struck with force. Kei had better skill in the kata, but the blow was more severe than expected, leaving a lump on his arm. The next strike targeted his throat, but Kei used the redirection of the water kata and dislocated the arm, followed by two boxing blows. The opponent quickly reset his arm, and then launched three rapid, unrelenting attacks. The strikes came and went, time relative, fatigue etching his face as he tried to rest and catch his breath.

- Fast boxing, wall-breaking strikes, - Kei muttered. A straight punch at full speed and power struck his opponent's nose, sending him flying back. But Kei did not stop, as they began attacking him, slowly drawing him to the center. Each blow carried force, and he felt trapped in a sky of possibilities - the bitterness of combat all around, struck and pulled, the beast and man intermingling, the metamorphosis Niko had anticipated, their collective power pushed to the brink of danger and risk of death.

- Water kata,  - Kei whispered, dispersing throughout the space while employing redirection with all his might. At times he used the fire kata, feeling the flow, the formless style shifting in seconds. Sometimes he failed and was struck, but his adamantine kata was the most practiced, combined with the seikuken around him. Occasionally he found openings, continuing to devise plans as his heart heated his body, guiding an unnatural force. He danced, lost, danced, and won, with a certain imprecision - the maelstrom of blows was madness. He fought in the center for three months, activating techniques for his survival, each second agonizing, almost as if he had been fighting non-stop for over a day.

Kei thought of the pillars, then leaped up, using the iron kata to grasp the ceiling and catch his breath.

But he was attacked again, fighting on relentlessly. Now there were fewer, perhaps thirty people - he couldn't say for sure. The blood pounded his body, and Kei realized something - he had not directly killed anyone, but his conscience gave him a deep, sorrowful desire. The blows came and went, all were well-trained, his body exhausted. Until one used a rapid Advance, crossing the battlefield. This marked the final battle. Using all his agility, Kei evaded the strikes but slipped on a corpse, nearly finished off, until another attack came from behind.

Kei used Removal to leap from side to side without pause, escaping the situation and reaching the wall. A coward? No, these were the supreme achievements of shelter. His vision was poor, but the attacks kept coming. The beast within began to corrupt, but he knew a beast without reason was folly. His sanity wavered with time. He counted numbers, thought of Runna, of good, of war, and meditated on Roshi's words, but could not control himself. Kei's chains were released - the thick Dou Ki began pouring out, side to side. The true Kei Kazama was satisfied, burning his soul to forge a new Kei Kazama, granting him a massive Dou Ki, reborn as the greatest power.

In his madness, he crossed, his movements honed, perfecting his style - expressing every Niko kata, blending it with boxing and Kempo in a frenzy. As the elimination counter was reborn into a vibrant, pulsing energy.

Kei had transmigrated, but in that void, his original soul saw the strengths, the efforts, the honor, and wept, screamed, and fought. But in the end, an idea, a motivation remained - to surrender to the soul and unite. He burned his soul, converting it into a vessel of highly concentrated Dou Ki, with a gigantic Sei Ki from his time in the void. The two merged, unlocking a power that could be unleashed.

- 5% -

The counter rose slowly.

- 7% -

The strength began to grow as Kei became a demon. His Niko style improved in leaps and bounds, in an unhealthy way. The boxing, imbued by Shiba, trained by the original Kazama. The Niko style, and the Kempo - all taught with such force, such dedication, a thousandfold. Kei's fists gained clarity.

He was at the disciple level, but only for the super-masters of styles like Rolon, Kuroki Genzai, Sakaki Shido, Akizame, Shiba, Jehnazah, Saiga Furinji, Senzui Kuremisago, Mikumo Kushinada, Kureh Erio, or any true master.

To normal people, Kei was a high expert. As a fighter, he was an expert with little experience but great abilities.

- 9% - The mastery increased. Two memories - one practical, trained for eight years without rest, the other with a physical body. Kei's technique began to rise, and his Dou Ki was madness, imbued with boxing. His blows had the force to shatter bodies. The counts were everywhere until only five remained.

- 11% - They attacked Kei.

- 13% - The control was potent, and the elimination was now natural.

- 19% - Nothing happened.

- 23% - Kei's strength was destroying his opponents. The five were struck down in every technique, strength, skill, and battle plan - a madness, a beast with control.

- 24% - The boxing began to double.

- 29% - Kei attacked with the force of a thousand men.

- 31% -

A blow struck with all his might. Four remained, determined to fight Kei.

- 39% - The control did not wane, and Kei was powerfully beyond normal.

- 42% - Kei surpassed all that was ordinary.

- 45% - His control began to limit him, but now he was by far the most dangerous opponent, able to shatter the place of each person with his skills - meteor strikes, formless blows combined with boxing, grapples, iron-breaking - a demon, a Shiva descending from the heavens to break all common sense.

The final cries escaped as Kei fell to his knees, his arm piercing a chest in the dark cavern. But he saw the smile of his last rival, who caressed Kei with such care that tears escaped.

- Well done, 101, - 85 commented.

- No! No, please! I'm sorry for everything! -Kei cried.

- You're just a child. My poor brother, - 85 said, with their last breath.

Kei's mentality escaped. His fusion was complete, but for the first time in a long while, he wept like a child, wounded with only one desire - to be in his mother's arms, to rest.

...