Gepard x Underground Fighter! Reader (GN)
Part I| Part II| Part III
•Growing up in the Belebog’s Underworld, you always thought the first time you’d see the sky would be a cause for celebration. It was supposed to be something to remember. Well, in a way it was.
• It starts with Scott and with Sampo, as most of your troubles do. You already told Scott that once the Silvermane guards lifted the barriers and you got your stuff sorted you were leaving the Fight Club and the Underworld and he is on you in an instant, trying to change your mind.
•You’re one of the best, a crowd favorite and while he still had his other money-makers on his payroll, the thought of even losing one cent that you could have brought him has Scott practically begging. It’s almost worth it to see that pathetic look on the old miser’s face.
•But then Scott stops you with a pitch. A big blowout, the event of a lifetime, one last fight to close out one hell of a career and a payout that he swears will be worth it. Or course, you call bullshit. You’d been fighting for years, you knew the figure he named was beyond what any fighter would make even on the biggest nights.
•What would make this one any different?
• This is where stupid fucking Sampo came in. He had apparently conned a bunch of Overworlders into coming down to Boulder Town for an “immersive historical tour” and while they didn’t enjoy getting duped and ditched like a stood-up date, they did enjoy watching people and robots beating the crap out of each other. And boy, did they have the shield to bet.
•Scott promises to you and any other fighters willing to come up to the surface that you’d all make great money at the Overworld’s first Fight Night.
•You almost say no. Almost walk away for good like you promised Natasha and Oleg. But you knew from some of the people who’d already been up to the surface that life up there, the better life you wanted, didn’t come cheap even after getting a decent job. You shake Scott’s hand one last time.
•It’s how you end up leading your fellow fighters, squeezing through Sampo’s secret tunnel leading from the Underworld to an abandoned warehouse in what he says is the Belebog Industrial district. You would have gone outside to see it for yourself but people were already starting to gather
•You had your doubts about all those stuck-up Overworlders wanting to see something as boorish as underground fighting. It’s why you made Scott sign a deal about the minimum of what he’d pay you regardless of how many people actually showed up. Listening to the crowd from the fighters’ prep room you regretted not raising the fee.
• You hated when Scott was right.
•Underworld rats and Overworld spiffs alike fill up the makeshift stands inside an abandoned warehouse in Belebog’s industrial district. From where you stand you almost can’t tell the difference between them as they cheer and roar each time a hard blow takes someone out. You almost laugh at the thought that this is what it took to unify both sides.
• The crowd settles down in a hush when the presenters announces your fight to close out the night. You were one half of the main event. The other half? A hotshot rookie who’s been rising through the ranks, fast. And while he does gives you a hell of a scrap, you weren’t one of Scott’s best for nothing.
•The fight goes on for round after round of the two of you trading blows. The rookie is relentless, a grin plastered across his face even though you’d knocked out a few his teeth a while ago. There is a manic gleam in his eye that is disturbing in how familiar it is. You’d seen enough pictures of you in action to recognise it.
• You’d lost that fire years ago. But that wasn’t a bad thing. You didn’t fight because you liked it, you didn’t fight just because you were good at it. Tonight, you were fighting because you had to. For the future and the better life that you always wanted. That is what puts you over the edge.
• It’s the reason why, with one final blow, you come out on top.
•The crowd is deafening. Cheering your name as the presenter raises your hand in triumph. You’d never seen old Scott so damn happy at seeing collector’s at the betting table are almost overwhelmed by a sea of people. Your ears are ringing, your body is beaten and you can barely hear the sound of your own breath. You don’t hear the presenter announcing when the next Fight Night will be. But you do hear when the warehouse doors burst open. “Halt! Everyone stay where you are!”
• Silver, blue and gold.
•You didn’t need to be from the surface to know those colors. “In the name of the Silvermane Guards, you are all under arrest!” Someone at the head bellows and how stupid did they have to be to think people wouldn’t run?
• It’s chaos. People leap from the stands and run for any and every exit the can find. But the Silvermanes advance with their shields interlocked, blocking all the doors. Except the one leading deeper into the warehouse.
• You make a mad dash, dodging between spears and swords to get out of the ring. Its in a far off boiler room where you find the other fighters, still recovering from their bouts, old Scott, shoving as much Shield as he can into a burlap sack, and Sampo opening up the tunnel you all came in from. You corner Scott, grabbing him by the collar.
• “What the hell, Scott?!” You snarl at him. Pieces of Shield “You said you had Seele run this by the Guardian!”
• He doesn’t even have the audacity to lie. “You think the Supreme Guardian would ever approve something like this? If so, you’re stupider than you look.” You almost deck him right then and there. But a hand grabs your shoulder.
• “My friend, I think you and I both know that this is not the time.” Sampo appeals to you, smiling somehow despite all this fucking mess. You almost wanna punch him too but then you remember the other fighters in the room. Your hands loosen on Scott’s collar.
• “Fine.” You scowl, going over to a corner of the boiler room and ripping a pipe off the wall. It bellows steam, missing the top of your head by inches. “Go. Get the others out of here.”
•The others gape. “What?! What about you?” One of them, the rookie you’d fought, asks. He looks you over, almost guilty as he takes in the blackened eye, busted lip and bruises he gave you himself.
• “If I don’t come back, you can split my prize money.” You say, running back out the door before any of them can protest further. Some of the Silvermanes had followed you and the moment they catch sight of you, they pick up the pace, the metal clinking of their armor echoing off the high warehouse ceiling.
• You wait until they’re close enough, buying as much time as you can for others. “Do not attempt to escape!” The one at the lead, some blondie who’s scowl didn’t suit his face, commands. “There is no need for any further violence. Put down the weapon and surrender yourself.”
•You smile back. “No can do, pretty boy.” You say before making a break for it and running in the opposite direction. It was a shot in the dark but if this warehouse was anything like the ones in the Underworld, there’d going to be a loading bay in the back.
•But the Silvermanes know that too and there are three of them waiting in the doorway of the bay. There is no other way but straight through them. Ignoring every ache and pain in your body, you barrel straight into the first soldier, sidestep the other and sweep the last off his feet with your pipe. You barely have time to look back and catch the dumbfounded look on blondie’s face.
•Catch ya later, soldier boy!” You give him a mock salute before you run out into the back alleys of the industrial district. You have never been here before in your life, you have no idea where you’re going. But you’re in your fighting gear and they’re in full armor. You keep running.
•The sound of combat boots and steel plates grow rapid but distant. You can’t stop now even as the adrenaline starts to fade and sores and aches of the fight set in. You’re hand clenches around the pipe as a chill starts to creep into your skin. You wonder how these Overworlders deal with such weather all the time.
• You find yourself slowing each time you pass by a lamp, trying to savor and soak up their warmth until eventually, you stop in front of one. You must have gotten away at this point, but you had gone far into the district and you look around.
• You don’t know the way back.
•“Ah shit.” You probably should have thought this through more. Ok, no problem, if you recall landmarks and retrace your steps it should be fine. You can find your way back to the warehouse and take Sampo’s tunnel. Or you could follow some street signs to the administrative district and take the cable car from there. It would be fine so long as no one was looking for you.
“Please, drop your weapon.”
You were never pious and maybe that’s why, if the Aeon of Preservation was watching, they must of thought they were funny. Turning around you come face to face with the blonde soldier from before. He looks as winded as you feel and thinking on how much trouble he went through to get here, you shrug. “Sure, whatever you say, sir.”
The pipe clatters onto the brick path and blondie’s eyes narrow. But it’s not any kind of trick. In fact you were fresh out of them and wanted more than anything, to just sit and breathe. So you do. “Mind if I take a load off, chief?”
“It’s Captain,” he amends, walking closer.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, full silver armor.
Qlipoth apparently really did have a sense of humor. You sigh, your breath coming out in a little puff of smoke in the early morning light. “Captain Gepard Landau, by any chance?”
He nods. Shoving the pipe away with his foot.
“Ah,” you say, hanging your head. “Fuck.”
He hums as if in agreement. “You are under arrest for your involvement in the illegal-“
“Yeah I know.” You brush him off with a wave of your hand. It’s callous and disrespectful in the face of a high ranking officer. “But could you give me a minute? That little marathon took a lot out of me.”
Landau gapes, then shuts his mouth as he looks you over. “You were one of the fighters.”
“Main event.” You nod.
He nods back. “You’re injured, and still you ran?”
A scowl. “For your employer? Scott Eldson?”
“Ha!” You bark and really, you shouldn’t be antagonizing the guy about to arrest you but it’s not on purpose. “The day I’d do that lying bastard any favors is the day belebog burns to the ground.” You swear and because you shouldn’t admit to any more crimes in front of the good Captain any other promises concerning Scott are made in silence.
To his credit he doesn’t mistake your malice for Scott as mockery. He purses his lips. “You did this for the others, then. Your fellow fighters.”
“I’m not telling you their names.”
He shakes his head. “There’s no need. It’s Eldson we’re after.”
“Any chance that means you’re not gonna arrest me?” You peer over at him and you can see him better, now that the night has started to recede. Though his expression has softened you recognize that small speck of suspicion in his eyes. “Ah, gotcha... I’ll come quietly.”
He nods. “Thank you.”
You attempt to rise to your feet, only to fall back flat onto your ass. “Shit!” You curse and Landau surges forward but you stop him with a hand. In hindsight sitting out in the cold in your close fitting fighting gear for several minutes is not the wisest of ideas, heat lamp or no. Whatever adrenaline powered you through your chase has drained into the bricks beneath you. You close your eyes and lie back in the snow, taking a deep breath, then another to try and stop from shaking.
And your breath is stolen right from your lungs.
Colors, the likes of which you didn’t even have a name for, splash and streak the morning. They bathe everything in a cool golden light. Even the old grouted bricks and sooty building faces shine like this. The sky itself is an expanse of the lightest blue dotted with fluffy white and peeking out from the tops of the buildings is the sun. Your eyes ache as it is blinding to look at, but you can’t tear your eyes away and can’t even remember to blink. Natasha and Oleg and all the other older folk of the Underworld have told you before what the sky looked like. They’d tell you stories, show you books and pictures.
None of them had ever done it justice.
Landau comes into view, genuine concern breaking through his stern captain’s facade. He holds a hand out towards you but if he hadn’t put it right in fromt of your face you would have missed it for the sky.
You do take it eventually.
You end up slinging an arm over his shoulder when you find you can’t stand up on your own two feet anymore. “Please understand.” He says to you as he steadies you against him. “We are not doing this in order to make life more difficult for you as your people get used to the Overworld again.”
“I do understand.” You answer, gritting your teeth when a corner of his armor grazes one of your bruises. “But I just want to give the others a chance.”
Landau’s brows furrow. “At running?”
He’s silent then. For the next few minutes you both don’t utter a word. Him, because he seems to be lost in thought. You because you are still staring up at the sky, taking in as much of it as you can. Eventually, Landau seems to have made a decision.
“If you and the other fighters assist in the investigation and arrest of Eldson, we can lessen any punishment you might recieve.”
That’s when you finally look away. You meet Gepard Landau’s eyes and search for any sign of deception, of judgement or contemp and find none of it. The captain himself is an unreal vision in shining silver armor, pale gold hair and eyes even bluer than the sky. He stares back, waiting for his answer and while you know he’s only trying to do his duty, you can’t help but think in that moment that you would follow him anywhere.
“You got yourself a deal, Captain.”
