Battle 2: Tigress vs Knuckles
The morning sun glared against the broken street as Tigress twirled her twin daggers, steel flashing in tight arcs. Across from her, Knuckles flexed his fists, the iron sheets strapped around them glinting ominously.
Tigress (smirking, eyes sharp):
"You really showed up after seventeen years. I thought you'd be rotting in some gutter."
Knuckles (rolling his shoulders):
"Heh. You know me better than that. I've been waiting for this fight, Tigress. Waiting to crush your blades with my fists."
She spun her daggers once more, sliding into a low stance.
Tigress:
"Then stop talking… and try."
The clash began in a blur. Tigress darted forward, slashing in tight, precise strikes aimed at Knuckles' forearms and chest. Knuckles blocked with sheer brute force, his metal-sheathed fists sparking against her blades.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Each blow echoed through the street, speed colliding with power. Knuckles swung heavy punches, but Tigress's aikido-trained movements redirected them, spinning away like flowing water. She countered with quick slices across his guard—nick after nick drawing thin trails of blood on his arms.
Knuckles grunted, stumbling back before spitting crimson on the ground. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then grinned savagely.
Knuckles (grinning through blood):
"I am the one who's in disadvantage in this fight… because I can't kick you. Here in India, women are goddesses. And I don't raise my foot against a goddess."
Tigress's eyes flickered, but she pressed forward regardless, voice sharp.
Tigress:
"Respect or not—hesitation will kill you, Knuckles!"
She lunged, daggers spinning in a relentless dance. Knuckles met her with punches so heavy the ground cracked beneath his steps. Every time his fists smashed against her blades, the shockwave rattled the walls around them.
But Tigress adapted—sidestepping, redirecting, letting his strength exhaust itself. She caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted, and flipped him over her shoulder in a perfect aikido throw.
BAM! Knuckles hit the ground hard, coughing. But he rolled up, laughing like a madman.
Knuckles:
"Damn, Tigress… you've only gotten sharper."
He charged again, fists like hammers, forcing Tigress to spin and weave with blistering speed. The fight turned into a storm of steel arcs and iron fists, neither able to land the final decisive blow.
Minutes dragged, blood stained both fighters, but their spirits only burned hotter.
Finally, Knuckles planted his feet, both fists pulled back. Tigress crossed her daggers, stance low and ready.
Knuckles (growling):
"One last strike."
Tigress (cold smile):
"I was about to say the same."
They charged. Her daggers whirled in a lethal cross-slash, his fists barreled forward like cannons.
CRASH!!
The impact sent a shockwave down the street, dust and fragments flying.
When the haze cleared, both Tigress and Knuckles were on their knees, blood dripping, breaths ragged.
Then, almost in unison, they collapsed onto the cracked pavement.
Draw.