Chapter 8: Blood in the Pit
983 AN
Sep 3
Zaun – Meat Row, Renni's Domain
The pit screamed.
Sweat, blood, and old rust clung to the humid air as two fighters traded blows in the ring below. The roar of the crowd rippled up to the grated balcony where Renni stood smoking, her shadow stretched long under a flickering chem lamp.
She didn't flinch when a punch landed with a sickening crunch. She'd seen better. Bloodier.
Her second-in-command, Mags, leaned against the rail beside her. "Callum's asking for a real match. He's cleared the holding bracket."
Renni exhaled smoke from her nostrils. "Of course he is. They all get cocky after four wins."
"This one doesn't smile. Doesn't posture. Just fights."
Renni watched in silence, eyes narrowing. "He came in quiet. Picked his marks clean. I like quiet."
The match ended. A taller man went limp, slamming to the ground as Callum stepped back, expression unchanged. Barefoot and blood-smeared, he didn't acknowledge the crowd. Just waited for someone to open the gate.
Mags said, "He might be good enough to enter the main pit next rotation."
Renni gave a slow nod. "Or we use him now. Put eyes where Ashryn isn't looking."
Mags raised a brow. "You think he'll make it out?"
"Don't care if he does," Renni replied. "I just want to know how far she's come since the last time we met."
She didn't mention the burning warehouse, the guards found crushed or stabbed with their own weapons. Ashryn hadn't even hit thirteen back then. And still, she'd walked out.
Only one other person had escaped one of Renni's pits.
And she was about to walk back in.
---
Zaun – Lower Cells, Pit Annex
The torchlight flickered on the damp walls. Callum sat on the edge of his cot, taping his knuckles. Mags stood just outside the bars, watching him with interest.
"You ever work for a gang?" she asked.
"No," he replied without looking up.
"You loyal to anyone?"
"No."
"Not even to her?" she asked, tilting her chin.
Callum didn't answer.
Mags grinned. "Thought so. You've seen her fight?"
"Once," he muttered. "Eight years ago. Before I ended up here."
"She teach you something?"
Callum raised his head. "Yeah. Don't go easy. Ever."
---
Zaun – Ashryn's War Room
A dry pop echoed as Ashryn cracked her knuckles one by one, staring at the crude chalk outline of Meat Row on the wall. Lynne sat on a stacked crate reading reports, and Cael stood in the corner checking gear.
"Renni's moved her elite guards," Lynne said. "Callum's in rotation again. Pit's drawing bigger crowds. Something's brewing."
Ashryn rolled her shoulders, then tossed a small gear between her fingers with a grin. "Perfect. Time to bring the house down."
Cael looked up. "You planning to stroll into her den again?"
She smirked. "Nah. Not just me. It's time the gang played with their new toys."
Lynne raised a brow. "You want us to split and hit all the pits?"
Ashryn leaned over the table, tapping points on the map with a marker. "Three secondary pits. We strike them all at once. You two coordinate the teams—make it clean, make it loud. We leave a mark. I'll take the main one."
Cael frowned. "The central pit's heavily guarded. You sure?"
Ashryn's grin widened. "I've walked in once and walked out covered in blood. Doing it again sounds like fun."
Lynne closed her report with a sigh. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Who wouldn't?" Ashryn shot back.
Cael crossed his arms, still cautious. "And when it gets messy?"
She tilted her head. "Then I'll make it messier. That's kind of our thing, right?"
Lynne gave a crooked smile. "So much for subtlety."
Ashryn chuckled. "Subtlety's for people with titles and powdered wigs. We're just a bunch of Zaunites shaking the world."
She stepped back from the table and looked between them, a flicker of weariness in her eyes quickly buried under a bright spark.
"This isn't just about Renni. It's about showing the rest that no one's untouchable. Not anymore."
Cael gave a nod. "Understood. We'll prep the strike teams. Equipment's ready."
Lynne added, "And the fallback plans?"
Ashryn shot her a thumbs-up. "Already rigged."
They moved like a machine—well-oiled chaos in motion.
And as Ashryn turned back to the map, tracing the shape of the pit with her thumb, the crack in her grin faded for just a second. Then the mask returned—loud, bold, and unbreakable.
"Time to burn the chains," she whispered.
---
Zaun – Meat Row, Renni's Quarters
Back upstairs, Renni adjusted her gloves, eyes on the flickering city outside. The skyline was broken here, full of smokestacks and sagging cranes. The world looked grey through the haze, like a dream left to rot.
A guard entered. "The crew's in place. No unexpected movement."
Renni didn't turn around. "Let them relax. She's bold, not stupid. She'll wait until the lights are low."
Another voice chimed in—Mags, stepping inside with a folder. "We've tracked some of her supply routes. She's arming her gang. Nothing heavy, yet."
Renni took the folder, flipped through. "She's not bluffing. And she's not just a street brawler anymore."
Mags asked, "You worried?"
Renni shook her head slowly. "I'm excited."
She pulled a bottle of caustic distillate from the shelf and poured herself a drink. "Been a while since anyone tried to dethrone me."
Mags glanced at the crowd below. "And if she wins?"
Renni downed the drink in one go, slammed the glass down. "She won't."
---
Zaun – Industrial Ruins, Temporary Barracks
Callum was given a uniform, a short blade, and instructions.
He didn't ask questions. Didn't care what side he was on.
But when he saw Ashryn's banner—a scratched phoenix etched into a broken gear—he paused.
He remembered the silhouette of a girl bleeding in the pit, knuckles torn, lifting herself off the ground again and again.
He clenched the blade tighter.
If she beat Renni... maybe he'd ask to join her instead.
Or maybe not.
He didn't like sides. He liked survivors.
---