I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

As they settled into their seats, an attendant with cybernetic arms approached their table. Her metallic fingers clinked softly against the surface as she greeted them. "What'll it be?"

Sakura leaned back to Zafron's surprise, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "The usual, Mira."

Zafron, curiosity piqued, chimed in. "I'll have the same."

As the attendant's metallic footsteps faded, Zafron turned to Sakura, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "So, 'the usual,' huh? You must be quite the regular here."

Sakura shrugged, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Not just me. This place is a watering hole for most fighters in the Undercity. You stick around long enough, you develop a taste for their special brews."

"Interesting," Zafron mused.

Sakura leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Now, your turn. Why'd you order the same thing? Trying to impress me with your daring taste buds?"

Zafron chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "More like a crash course in Undercity culture. Figure if I'm going to blend in as a fighter, might as well start with the drinks, right?"

"Smart," Sakura nodded, her expression a mix of approval and something unreadable. "Adaptation is key in the Wasteland."

Before Zafron could respond, Mira returned, setting two mugs filled with a glowing red liquid before them.

The vibrant hue reminded Zafron of the shades he had with Shadow and Whisper, but this was a shade he hadn't encountered before.

Sakura picked up her mug, taking a measured sip. Zafron, not wanting to appear hesitant, followed suit.

The moment the liquid touched his tongue, he felt a searing sensation. It blazed a fiery trail down his throat, and he barely managed to suppress a cough.

Sakura's lips curved into a knowing smile. "First time with Red Bull Fury, huh?"

Zafron cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "That obvious?"

She chuckled, a low, warm sound. "It's a fighter's drink. Keeps us sharp, unlike the watered-down swill most folks down here drink."

[Fascinating. The concoction seems to have stimulant properties. Perhaps it's laced with some form of synthetic adrenaline?] Calista mused.

Zafron nodded, taking another sip. This time, he was prepared for the burn. "So, how long have you been down here? In the fighting pit, I mean."

Sakura's gaze grew distant. "Lost count, to be honest. Just like everyone else. But... it's been a while."

"And the fights? How many have you won?" Zafron pressed, genuinely curious.

Pride flickered in Sakura's eyes. "Every single solo match. But tag teams?" Her expression darkened. "Never been lucky at partner selection."

[Curious. Why continue participating in team matches if the outcome is consistently unfavorable?] Calista wondered.

Zafron was about to voice Calista's question when the bar's atmosphere suddenly shifted.

The door burst open, admitting a group of men clad in heavy black attire, their clothes a mix of leather and gleaming metal. The noise of their entrance turned every head in the establishment.

At the forefront strode a short, stocky man with piercing blue eyes and long, unkempt hair. He swaggered forward, his gaze darting around the room with predatory intensity.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, voice carrying an edge of mockery. "What a fine gathering we have here tonight."

The man approached a nearby patron, snatching the drink from his hand and downing it in one gulp.

He smacked his lips, grinning at the stunned victim. "Much obliged, friend. Mighty refreshing."

As he continued his taunting monologue, his gaze suddenly locked onto Sakura and Zafron's corner. A wolfish grin spread across his face as he sauntered towards them.

"Now why didn't anyone tell me my favorite damsel was gracing us with her presence?" he called out, his voice dripping with false charm. "I'd have put on my best behavior."

Zafron felt Sakura tense beside him, her entire demeanor shifting from relaxed to guarded in an instant. 'This can't be good,' he thought.

[Indeed, my lord. The newcomer's presence seems to have a distinctly negative effect on Ms. Sakura,] Calista observed.

The man reached their table, completely ignoring Zafron as he leered at Sakura. "Sakura, darling. You've been avoiding me lately. And turning down my generous offer to partner up for the next fight? Tsk, tsk. You know you'll just lose again, like always."

Sakura's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with venom. "Draco. This is none of your business. Get lost."

Draco pressed on, leaning closer. "Oh, but it is my business. You see—"

Unable to contain himself any longer, Zafron interjected. "I believe the lady made it clear she's not interested. Why don't you take the hint and move along?"

Draco's head snapped towards Zafron, his blue eyes blazing with fury. "And who the fuck are you to speak when I'm talking?"

The tension in the air thickened, the ambient noise of the bar fading as patrons sensed the brewing confrontation.

Zafron maintained his calm demeanor, meeting Draco's glare. "Just someone who knows when a woman's not interested. But clearly, that's a concept you struggle with."

[Careful, my lord. This Draco seems volatile. We don't want to escalate the situation unnecessarily,] Calista cautioned.

Draco's face contorted with rage. He leaned in, his breath hot on Zafron's face. "Listen here, you little shit. You have no idea who you're dealing with."

Sakura's hand shot out, gripping Draco's wrist. "Back off, Draco. This doesn't concern him."

Draco yanked his arm free, his attention shifting back to Sakura. "Oh, but it does now, doesn't it? Found yourself a new partner, have you? Another poor sap to drag down with you?"

Zafron felt a surge of protectiveness. "I'd watch my tongue if I were you. Sakura's reputation speaks for itself. Solo champion, wasn't it?"

Draco let out a harsh laugh. "Solo, sure. But put her with a partner?" He made a slashing motion across his throat. "Disaster."

Sakura's eyes flashed dangerously. "At least I fight my own battles, Draco. Unlike some who hide behind their lackeys."

The air crackled with tension as Draco's crew shifted, hands moving to concealed weapons.

[My lord, this situation is rapidly deteriorating. Perhaps a strategic retreat would be wise? I mean, if anything, the records prove you make enemies a lot faster than friends and right now, I wouldn't exactly call your interaction with "MR Draco" here a meet cute] Calista suggested.

But Zafron stood his ground, a plan forming in his mind. 'No, Calista. I think it's time we made a statement.'

He rose slowly, surpassing Draco's height. "You seem awfully concerned about Sakura's choice of partner. Tell me, Draco, is it jealousy that's got you so worked up? Or just the fear that she might actually win with the right teammate?"

Draco's face flushed red. "You cocky little—"

"How about we settle this properly?" Zafron interrupted, his voice carrying across the now-silent bar. "You and your chosen partner against Sakura and me. In the pit. Unless, of course, you're not as confident as you pretend to be."

A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers. Challenging Draco publicly was unheard of, especially from a newcomer.

Sakura's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and something else—respect?—flashing across her face.

Draco's shock quickly morphed into a savage grin. "Oh, you're on, pretty boy. I hope you've made peace with whatever gods you believe in, because when I'm done with you, there won't be enough left to bury."

He turned, addressing the entire bar. "You heard it here, folks! The new meat thinks he can take on I and the Butcher, Undercity's finest. This is gonna be a slaughter for the ages!"

As Draco and his crew swaggered out, shouting taunts and placing bets, the bar erupted into a frenzy of excited chatter.

Zafron sat back down, feeling the weight of what he'd just done settle over him.

He turned to Sakura, half-expecting anger, but instead found her studying him with newfound interest.

"That," she said slowly, "was either the bravest or the stupidest thing I've ever seen."

Zafron managed a wry smile. "Why not both?"

[I must concur with Ms. Sakura, my lord. While your actions were admirable, they were also incredibly... reckless,] Calista chimed in.

'Sometimes you have to take risks, Calista,' Zafron thought back. 'Besides, I couldn't just stand by and let that creep harass her.'

Sakura leaned in, her voice low and intense. "Do you have any idea what you've just gotten us into? Draco's not just some random thug. He's one of the top-ranked fighters in the Undercity. And his partner? Let's just say there's a reason they call him 'The Butcher.'"

Zafron felt a twinge of apprehension but pushed it aside. "Well, then I guess we'll just have to be better, won't we?"

Sakura shook her head, a mix of exasperation and grudging admiration in her eyes. "You're either incredibly brave or completely insane. Possibly both."

"I prefer to think of it as... adaptable," Zafron grinned, raising his mug. "To new partnerships and impossible odds?"

After a moment's hesitation, Sakura clinked her mug against his. "To survival and proving the bastards wrong."

As they drank, Zafron couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement beneath his nervousness.

He'd accidentally fallen into the Undercity and was looking for a way out, but maybe, just maybe, he'd found something else. A purpose. A partner.

[Do be careful, my lord,] Calista warned. [Ms. Sakura is formidable, but Draco's threats should not be taken lightly.]

'I know, Calista,' Zafron thought. 'But sometimes, you have to take a stand. And who knows? This might be exactly what we needed.'

As the bar buzzed with excitement around them, Zafron and Sakura began to plan their strategy, both acutely aware that in the Undercity, alliances were forged in fire—and often broken just as quickly.

The coming days would test not just their skills, but the very foundation of their newfound partnership.

And in a place where trust was a luxury few could afford, Zafron found himself hoping that this time, things might be different.

Only time would tell if he'd made the right choice, or if he'd just signed both their death warrants.