The coming weeks before my father's fight were plagued with more nightmares than I cared to say out loud.
I will admit, though — it was nice having most of my family in the same room. Even if that room existed specifically to train our father toward his potential doom.
Samuel was a big help. With someone who could actually keep up with him, Iris managed to develop a training regimen — much to Jacob's dismay.
During one of those days, Palesa emerged from the lab looking like death itself, set down a case of ten rings, and went straight back inside. If it hadn't looked like it was killing her, it would've been admirable.
It turned out the file Gio gave James contained detailed profiles on each upcoming fighter. It would've been useful — if our father didn't obnoxiously go la la la every time we tried to share the information. Eventually Iris gave up and settled for having Samuel recreate what she thought Taro's fighting style would look like.
The days leading up to the fight weren't as hopeful as we'd wanted. Goliath's death had sent a ripple of despair through the world. It felt like the only people cheering were our people — and even that seemed hollow.
All of that led up to today.
We all woke up bright and early — mostly because we'd heard our sister was back and wanted to be out of the house before she arrived, but also because of the nerves.
My father, however, seemed perfectly calm.
He was wearing the outfit everyone knew him for — against Iris's better judgment, who had begged him to wear some kind of combat suit. He showed up in his signature dark green military jacket with Unity's symbol sewn onto the patch, and baggy black pants that felt more like they belonged on a teenager than an 84 year old man.
Ora didn't hesitate.
"REPRESENTING THE HUMANS!" She paused for dramatic effect. "This man is banned in all seven continents — yet loved by all."
Felt more like a jab. But whatever.
"Known for his violent protests and his complete inability to stand down — he is the UN's most surveilled individual. Introducing — JACOB MERCER!!!"
My father gave a dramatic bow to both crowds, then flashed a cocky grin directly at Gio.
"For good luck?" he said, pointing to his back.
Samuel didn't hesitate. Full force slap.
Me and Iris were considerably more hesitant. We gave it a light one each.
That's when they walked out.
The ten foot hulking mass of Taro, flanked on either side by what appeared to be royal guards carrying advanced rifles.
"FIGHTING FOR THE ANTHORIANS — you know him, you've seen him. With Thirty-two consecutive wins. He has single-handedly dismantled entire races. Standing at ten feet — it's TARO!!!"
As we were instructed to exit the arena I turned one last time to look at my father — who didn't bother looking back, just gave me a thumbs up.
I could feel my heart in my stomach as we sat down.
"Relax, brother." Samuel's large hand landed on my back. "Has Father ever let us down?"
He's right. Come on Ethan. Lock in.
Ora's countdown stretched longer than it needed to.
"Three."
This time the crowd counted with her.
"Two."
Through sheer collective aura, everyone felt compelled to lean forward.
"One — FIGHT!"
I reflexively flinched, bracing for another Goliath situation.
There was a long silence.
Someone in the crowd might have yawned.
"It appears they're just… standing there," Ora said, genuinely uncertain.
A tumbleweed rolled between the two fighters.
"It is customary to allow the weaker foe the first strike," Taro said — not as a taunt, but it still managed to piss me off.
Jacob just smiled. All teeth. "I know. Why do you think I'm not moving?"
A loud oooh came from Gio's direction. Iris simply cringed at her father.
Taro took the hint. He dashed forward — closing the distance faster than anything his size had any right to — and swung a giant overhead fist downward.
"Arrogance is only fit for the strong," he said as he swung.
Taro dropped to one knee.
Before the punch had even landed, Jacob's hands were out of his pockets — literally steaming. "I'd say I fit the bill then."
Taro looked up at Jacob with genuine shock.
From just a counter? How? I was closer and I still barely saw it.
Jacob looked down at him with that same smile and one-handed cracked his knuckles.
"Stings, don't it."
I could've sworn I saw a vein bulge on Taro's forehead.
Then again I was caught up watching the sideways knee that sent my father flying.
It landed square against his head and drove him into the sand. Even from here I could see Jacob was out cold.
"OH MY — IS THE FIGHT ALREADY OVER?!"
"No way." "Dad's down just like that?"
As much as I hated it I was sharing the same thought. He can't be down already. I looked toward Iris — who smacked her forehead.
"Idiot."
That was not the reaction I was hoping for. The despair started to sink in.
Taro simply gritted his teeth. "A one shot wonder." He walked over with clear intent to finish it —
That's when he heard a loud groan.
"Ughhh — Iris was right. I should've got the surgery."
Jacob stood up, rubbing his forehead.
"WHAT?! IS HE BACK FROM THE DEAD?!" Ora yelled, damn near falling out of the announcer's box.
I sat there mouth agape — switching between Iris, who seemed more annoyed than worried, and Jacob, who seemed just annoyed.
"Wha — I — huh?" Were the only words I could manage.
Iris sighed and pulled out a whiteboard.
"Father is old, and with several existing brain injuries, a recent scan showed that anything that moves his brain even slightly too fast knocks him out cold."
"You knew all that and still sent him out there?" Samuel exclaimed — more confused than accusatory, but clearly trusting her judgment.
She gave him a look.
"Do you think I had any part in him going out there?"
Samuel nodded immediately. "Yeah — no, you're right. My bad."
"It still doesn't address how he's back up so quickly." A horrifying realization was dawning on me as both fighters began walking toward each other. "Does that mean every time he gets hit—"
"There's a chance he won't get back up." Iris pushed up her glasses and delivered it in the tone of someone sharing a mildly interesting fun fact.
I didn't even know how to respond.
I just watched as both fighters raised their fists.
And prayed my father still had some common sense left in him.