WAR
The Journey of Martial

Dark

The final result was staggering.

The arena had been bubbling over with the energy of an intense night, but now there was a weird hush that had fallen over it. It was an almost reflective sound. Either way, the event had come to a close, and WAR broadcasted its regular promo that told people far and wide about the benefits it had brought to humanity.

The world only saw the highlight reel, which was mostly made up of cool-looking shots and epic music. WAR looked like it had built a utopia. They’d pulled in over a hundred billion WARcoins and had fans from all over throwing in donations. Somehow, they’d managed to reshape the future in ways nobody saw coming.

For the most part, they were right. There was a lot of good that came from all of this.

3D-printed homes now provided shelter for the homeless, ensuring everyone had a safe place to call home.

Advanced food harvesting techniques had eradicated famine, which meant that food was a secured resource for all.

Autonomous cars had revolutionized transportation, which had eliminated accidents and saved countless lives.

Free global internet access had democratized education, which gave every young mind the tools to learn and grow. They had quite literally created the leaders of tomorrow.

Renewable energy sources, like wind turbines and solar panels, had put the world on the path for a greener future. That also meant a massive reduction in our carbon footprint and the preservation of our planet.

WAR initiatives had created countless jobs, which boosted economies worldwide and strengthened so many family infrastructures. This had led to a population boom and a drastic decrease in mortality rates.

WAR funded initiatives to promote mental and physical health, which ultimately led to peak humans.

To cut a very long story short, for the first time in our entire existence as a species, humanity was witnessing a rise in harmony and unity that had created this kind of utopia where we could all thrive together.

Now, for those of us in the arena, the reality was way more complex than that. From the outside looking in, WAR looked like it was the perfect solution to the world’s problems.

But I wasn’t on the outside looking in.

I was in.

In the medical room, the reality of WAR’s toll was painfully clear. Crystal, even. My teammates were being treated for their injuries and that was our reality. They might have wished for some peace and quiet after the hammering, but the room was filled with the sounds of medical equipment. Add to that the sterile smell of antiseptics and it was like a nightmare come to life. The bright and sterile lights only illuminated the bruises and cuts that everyone was wishing and willing away. Those bandages and what lay beneath them were the real price of our utopia.

Coach Flynn and the backups moved through the room. They greeted the fighters and tried to pick their spirits up a little. For what it was worth, you could tell that the fighters appreciated it. But there was also this vacancy behind their eyes, like they had just resigned themselves to getting through the pain. It’s not like we all didn’t sign up for this. We did. And we wanted to be there more than anything. Still, something was just odd.

Ari Morgan stood with the rest of the official Team New Zealand fighters. We could all see the concern on his face. The women’s Super Bantamweight backups and the women’s Super Flyweights rushed over to Lola, who was just lying there in her medic bed. They all had tears streaming down their faces and they hugged her so tightly that even I squirmed. She was hurting and the last thing she needed was pressure on the wounds. Then I saw Jessica. To be honest, I had never seen her so upset. She usually had a fierce look about her, but it had softened by the worried expression she had on.

I leaned over toward Niko’s bunk.

“Hey, you killed it out there tonight,” I said.

He gave me this tired smile and I could see that he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Thanks, man,” was all he could work up the energy to say.

I tilted my head the other way toward Kieran.

“You too. You held it together,” I said.

Kieran’s face was still tight from the night, but he also managed to mutter a, “Appreciate it.”

Then I saw Caleb lying on his hospital bed and looking totally dejected. I wanted to offer him my support as I had offered it to everyone else, but as I walked up to him, he said, “Please... leave me alone.”

It was like a reflex without looking at me and with almost no energy. I’d be lying if I said his words didn’t sting, but I understood his need to be alone in that moment.

Just then, the coach of Team Ireland, Matt Kavanagh, walked into the room. He was a former Super Middleweight himself, who had represented Team Ireland in WAR 12, 13, and 14 before a serious injury ended his career. In other words, this was someone we all had a quiet respect for.

He walked straight up to Coach Carter.

“Carter,” Matt said as he held out his hand. “Hell of a night. Your boys looked sharp.”

Coach Carter got up and pulled him into a hug instead of a handshake.

“Thanks, Matt. Means a lot coming from you. Your lads fought like warriors out there.”

“I’ve still got a few bruises from my own WAR days. Tonight brought back memories. Keep these boys hungry. They’re going places.”

“Appreciate that,” Carter said. “Good to see you, man.”

Matt patted Carter on the shoulder and gave a quick nod to the rest of us before he headed back out.

It was back to regular broadcasting or so it felt that way with the screens everywhere. We could see highlights of the match and Team Ireland fighters in the post-match press conference. Team New Zealand had turned down the option to participate in the press conference. I respected Coach Flynn for focusing on everyone’s recovery instead.

My phone was blowing up with calls from my mother and Oli. I knew they were likely worried, even though I wasn’t out there, but I needed to be in the present moment with everyone.

One thing I did actually dip out of reality for was SocialX. I always avoided using SocialX on Fight Island, but my curiosity got the best of me right then and when I opened the app, I saw that my follower count had gone through the roof. WAR 34: Team New Zealand vs. Team Ireland was trending at #1. It all seemed to be filled with compliments for Ireland and harsh criticism for Team New Zealand.

I felt nothing but anger and frustration, but I was kind of annoyed at myself for opening the app up in the first place. Still, these fans had no idea how much work my teammates had put in to get here. Even though it had only been a few months, I felt incredibly close to these people. We spent almost every waking moment with one another and we had started to feel like family. These were the people I trained with, ate with, talked with, and laughed with every day for hours since I had arrived on Fight Island. I saw the blood, sweat, and tears we all put into every training session, so the online criticism actually felt like a personal attack, and not just on our performance but on our dedication and hard work.

I looked around the room and watched as Niko, Caleb, Kieran, and Lola were being attended to. My heart ached for them especially and I wanted to make all of that chatter online go away or hide their phones or something. They gave everything they had and they definitely didn’t deserve to see the trash that people were talking about them. To see them criticized so harshly by people who didn’t understand a single thing of this place was beyond infuriating. This wasn’t just a competition. We’re real people and this is our lives, our dreams, and our passion.

Coach Flynn moved through the room and gave us all words of encouragement and pats on the back. I wish I could say it made us all feel better, but it didn’t. Our defeat was still hanging around like a bad smell. Ari Morgan stood nearby and watched, too. His face was practically set in stone. I knew that look. He was determined to make a comeback. He caught my eye and tipped his head. I nodded back.

The screens kept playing the scenes and there was a point when I actually wanted to get up and switch them all off. It seemed like adding salt in the wound, you know. We had to keep seeing the triumphant faces of Team Ireland. Their post-match interviews were filled with excitement and pride. Meanwhile, our side of the room was filled with a sad kind of silence. The only sounds were the beeps of medical monitors and the soft sobs of those who were too injured to hide their pain.

I put my phone away. I couldn’t take any more negativity.

Coach Flynn never spoke about what happened that night, not even then. It was as if nothing had happened. Instead, he simply said, “On Monday, we’re back in training. We have Team Mexico in four weeks. We need to be ready.”

That was all. Then, he and the rest of the fighters said their goodbyes to Niko, Caleb, Kieran, and Lola, who had to stay in the hospital for a while. I can’t imagine the loneliness they must have felt that night so far from home.

Walking back to the bus was circus all on its own. Journalists and fans crowded around to take pictures and shout random questions at us. I swear, they want to know the dumbest and most irrelevant things sometimes. But at the end of the day, this is what kept us watched and wanted in the public eye. The outside world still had to marvel at the spectacle of WAR. But inside, we were hurting. Coach Flynn led us all through the throng of people. For a minute, it felt like the intensity of the media’s inquiries and the blinding lights were pushing our security to be more aggressive. They shouted and pushed the media back to create a path for us. It was insane.

We finally managed to board the bus and it was our own brief sanctuary from the chaos. The ride back to the training facility was eerily quiet. I could hear the muffled sounds of crying from multiple fighters, but I never turned away from the window. They’d had enough people gawking at them. They didn’t need people on their own team doing it too.

One of them was definitely Jessica, who was still visibly upset. The reality of our defeat was heavy on all of us.

I was all over the place inside. I felt disappointed and kind of angry at everything. The stuff people were saying about us online stung, but honestly, it was nothing compared to the way we were looking at each other. The whole “WAR changed the world” thing felt like a bad joke right then. All that hype looked shiny on the outside, but we were living in the cracks underneath.

When the bus rolled up to the training facility, nobody said much. You could feel it sitting in the air. We got off one by one with our heads down. Coach Carter was waiting in the main hall. He had the same stone-faced look as always and didn’t give anything away.

“Rest up this weekend,” he said. “Monday, we start again. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it. Team Mexico is no joke, and we need to be at our best.”

We all walked through the lobby in perfect silence. Everyone was just way too exhausted and demoralized to say anything. We slowly went our own ways. Most of us headed to our rooms, but some made a beeline for the cafeteria for a late meal. I couldn’t stomach the thought of eating right then, so I made my way to my room. My body heavy with fatigue and my mind was racing with thoughts of the upcoming weeks.

My phone kept ringing. It was Mum again. I must have had at least a dozen missed calls from her. Curiosity and the need for comfort finally overcame me, so I answered.

The moment I heard my mother’s voice, she said, “I’m so sorry about what happened, Martial.”

The way Mum spoke and that empathy in her voice was it all it took. I just cracked. All the fight-week stress, the losses, the and the pressure came out in tears I couldn’t hold back anymore. She kept talking. She was so calm like she always is. She reminded me of how hard I’d worked and how far I’d come. Little by little, it sank in. I started to feel like maybe I could pull myself together.

Sitting there in the quiet, my phone buzzed again and I removed the phone from my ear to look at the notification. It was a payment notification from my eWallet of 1,200 WARcoins from WAR came through. Nothing from the fans. Didn’t shock me. Backups barely exist to them.

People on Fight Island see you in the team gear and think you’re part of the top tier. They don’t know the story behind it. Things were rough even before Dad passed. After that, it’s just been me and Mum, trying to keep it together. Every coin counted toward something.

My father used to say, “Money is not everything, but when you don’t have it; it is everything.”

I didn’t understand it when I was young. Now, I understood all too well. With the 1200 WARCOINS, I had enough to buy my mother a ticket to Fight Island, which cost 2400 WARCOINS.

The ticket would only last for a week, but it would be great for her to see how amazing Fight Island was. It seemed like the perfect time to tell her. I wasn’t sure how my mother would react to becoming a grandma, but I didn’t want to hear her reaction over the phone, whether it was going to be good or bad.

I mustered the courage and asked her to come.

“Mum, I’ve got enough for a ticket to Fight Island. It would be great for you to see it here.”

She sighed deeply.

“Martial, we need the money. It would be such a huge waste,” she said.

I felt a lump in my throat as I realised she was right. The excitement I had felt about sharing my life here with her, and telling her my big news, faded into disappointment.

“I understand, Mum. I just thought it would be nice.”

“I know, sweetheart. But we have to be practical. Maybe another time.”

I forced a smile, though she couldn’t see it.

“I love you, Mum,” I said.

“I love you too, Martial. Take care of yourself.”

We ended the call and I decided to keep my secret a little longer. I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I felt the weight of the night settle over me again.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm and the familiar noise pulled me from a restless sleep. I looked out the window at the stunning view of Fight Island. Its was a sight of luxury and beauty that just never got old, but the flashbacks of my team getting decimated on the WAR canvas clouded my view.

Could there ever be true peace, or was this it?

My phone rang and an unknown number flashed on the screen. I answered and heard the familiar voice of Steven Jung. Yes, the one and only Steven Jung. New Zealand’s most popular fight podcaster. Steven had interviewed me back in 2031 after I won my second regionals, but now he mainly focused on the official fight team.

“Hey, any chance you can come in an hour earlier? My day’s jam-packed,” Steven asked.

“Yeah, no problem,” I said. “I can make that work.”

“Great,” he said in relief. “Appreciate it.”

Soon, I found myself in the high-end podcast studio at the New Zealand training facility. The studio was decked out with holographic displays and advanced soundproofing, which made it look more like a futuristic command centre than a recording room.

Steven kicked the podcast off with an enthusiastic introduction.

“Today, we have Martial in the studio, a standout Super Welterweight for Team New Zealand, who will be facing Team Mexico in the upcoming match.”

My heart skipped a beat as I realised I was now part of the official fight team due to Caleb Scott’s one-fight medical ban.

Shoot! How had I forgotten that?

I truly hadn’t fully processed this until that very moment.

“I’m excited,” I said despite the sudden realization.

“You’ve been a standout fighter in the New Zealand Fight Academy. I’ve followed your journey for years. It was tough seeing the results against Team Ireland, but you all fought hard.”

That felt like a bit of praise.

“It is what it is, I guess,” I responded. I was trying so hard to mask my lingering disappointment that I was probably coming off as trying too hard.

‘Tone it down,’ I thought to myself.

The podcast carried on with discussions about my journey and my training regimen. He asked a lot about my thoughts on the upcoming fight.

It was over quicker than I thought it would be.

“I’ve got to get these interviews out quickly since my flight is tomorrow. WAR has covered my costs, but I’m on a tight schedule. I’m jealous you get to stay here longer and get to know the fighters for free,” Steven said as we wrapped up.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I guess so.”

What Steven said got me thinking. If Team New Zealand went down to Team Mexico, our whole run on Fight Island could be over fast. I figured I might as well use the time I had to get to know the other fighters and hear their stories. Maybe I could even start a journal or a vlog. Just the thought of it gave me something new to aim for.

I gave Steven a quick hug goodbye and felt lighter walking out of the studio.

The sun was just coming up when I headed to the dining hall. The place had that warm early-morning glow. I caught the smell of fresh coffee and toast as soon as I stepped in. A couple of my teammates were already there with their heads down over their plates. They were just quietly getting ready for the day.

I grabbed a plate and sat down with Sarah Roberts and Amelia Bennett. The atmosphere was pretty subdued with the loss still hanging over us, but there was also a die-hard grit there. We had a lot to prove, not just to the world, but to ourselves.

“Morning,” I said before taking a sip of my coffee.

“Morning,” they replied in unison through exhausted expressions.

“We’ve got to bounce back,” I said. It was more to myself than to anyone else but some of them caught it. “We owe it to ourselves.”

“We will,” Amelia agreed. “We just need to stay focused and support each other.”

“And remember why we’re here,” Sarah added. “We’ve worked too hard to let one setback define us.”

What they said stuck with me. By the time I finished breakfast, I felt like I had a reason to push forward again. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but with the team around me and everything we’d already been through, I figured we could handle whatever came next.

I realised that documenting the whole thing shouldn’t just be for me. It could be for all of us. We could have a little time capsule of the wins and the screw-ups, as well as the moments that actually meant something to us as a team.

On my way out of the dining hall, I ran into Liam Tahana by the elevator. The big guy looked wrecked.

“Morning,” I said.

“Hey,” he muttered as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m wiped after yesterday. Think I’m just gonna hole up in my room and play WAR all day.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” I smiled.

“You should jump in for a match,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m in,” I replied.

As we walked to Liam’s room, I couldn't help but notice how much nicer it was than mine. He had heated floors, a stunning view, and a slew of high-end amenities. A tall woman was cooking in the kitchen. She was gorgeous and, at first, I assumed she was a personal chef, but Liam greeted her with a kiss and introduced her as his girlfriend.

‘Wait’ I thought. ‘Like just out here casually cooking.’

I waved at her awkwardly and Liam offered me some food, but I turned it down. It smelt great. Don’t get me wrong, but I had just loaded up on breakfast.

Liam had been the official Heavyweight for Team New Zealand for three years, so his upscale lifestyle didn’t entirely surprise me. We settled on the couch, switched on the game console, and started playing the WAR video game. It turned out to be a good time and I think it was just what I needed. We laughed, argued, and laughed some more. I ended up winning all three matches. 4-1, 4-3, and 4-2. To be fair, I didn’t mention to Liam that I’d also been playing the game for years. The conversation eventually drifted to the Team Ireland match, which brought the energy down, but it was therapeutic to get it off our chests.

We were halfway through our second match when I asked, “So, where’d you grow up?”

“Wellington,” Liam said with his eyes still on the screen. “Pretty normal life. Moved up to Auckland when the Fight Academy scouted me.”

“Your folks must be proud, huh?” I asked.

He laughed all the way out loud and I could tell there was something there.

“Not even close,” he eventually said. “They wanted me in the family business. eCommerce. Selling kitchen appliances.”

“Seriously?” I said as I turned to look at him. “From blenders to punches.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “The only one who ever backed me was my grandad. He boxed back in the late ’70s, had a black belt in jiu-jitsu. He’s the one who first dragged me into clubs and competitions.”

“Guess it runs in the blood,” I said.

“Maybe,” he replied with a laugh. “Grandad always said I hit harder than my old man ever did.”

I thought about that for a minute. He looked like he had it all. He had a big, strong physique, wealth, fame, and a beautiful girlfriend. But despite having everything a man could want, not being supported by his parents, even after reaching such a high level, seemed to be his one true issue.

“I just wish they could see how far I’ve come,” Liam said with frustration in his voice. “They still harp on about taking over the family business.”

“It’s tough when the people closest to you don’t understand your passion,” I replied. “But you've accomplished so much. You’ve got to keep doing what you love.”

Liam nodded and I could tell that he appreciated the sentiment. We sat in silence for a moment with only the background noise of the game. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from someone who seemed to have it all.

As the morning wore on, I decided it was time to head back to my room.

“Thanks for the games, man,” I said as I stood up. “I needed the distraction.”

“Anytime,” Liam replied and stood as well. “And hey, let’s get back to training stronger than ever. We’ve got something to prove.”

I left Liam’s room and felt a mix of brotherhood and even more determination than I had felt earlier. We all had our personal battles, but together, I truly felt like we could face whatever came next.

I decided to go for a run. It always helped me clear my head and I really needed to clear my head after everything that had happened.

Everywhere I looked, I couldn’t escape the previous night’s event. Highlights of Team New Zealand versus Team Ireland were plastered on electronic billboards, playing on screens in shop windows, and being watched by people on their phones and even in their autonomous cars. I mean, I’m not sure what I else I expected. We were on Fight Island for goodness sake. But the number of conversations that were filled with talk of the match as I jogged past. It felt like the whole island was engrossed in our defeat.

I got back to my room and saw notifications on my phone from Jessica.

“Do you want to go out? x”

Being alone in the room sounded about as exciting as watching paint dry. Plus, being around Jessica always seemed to ease the mood. So, I called her, and we planned to meet near the arcade.

When I arrived, she was already there. She looked so different with makeup on. She kissed me and smiled, which actually made me momentarily lose touch with reality. I couldn’t help but wonder was she my girlfriend now? I’d never had a girlfriend before, and the idea that my first could be Jessica Lee was surreal.

‘Well, we are having a kid together,’ I thought.

But I didn’t want to be presumptuous. People have kids together all the time without committing to the long game. But if anyone was going to be endgame for me, I wanted it to be her. It was the first time that I’d actually admitted that to myself.

We started our day together at the arcade where we played games and laughed. We let ourselves get lost in the vibe. It felt good for there to be no training and no pressure. We were just a couple of people enjoying the break.

Lunch was at this sleek, modern place with glass walls and ridiculous-looking plates of food. I’d barely finished my first bite when Jessica started laughing about something I’d said, and for a second I forgot we’d even lost our last fight.

After lunch we hit one of Fight Island’s cinemas. The cinemas on the island were nothing like the ones back home. These had plush seats and massive screens. This one was the best of them all and the whole thing felt unreal. Half the time I found myself sneaking glances at her and wondering how someone like her was sitting next to me. To me, she was talented, gorgeous, and already accomplished in her own right.

“So… how’d you get into all this?” I asked during the previews. I mean, I knew. But I wanted to hear her story told her way.

“Kinda hard not to. Mum was a judo champ. First German woman to win Worlds back in 2009.”

“No way,” I said. “That’s insane.”

“Yeah, and Dad’s no slouch either. He did taekwondo. Got bronze at the ’06 Olympics. These days he’s all about tech. He runs a company called Devhome. It lets you control all your devices from one app.”

I let out a low whistle.

“That’s some serious pedigree.”

“Guess it was either fight or code in my family,” she laughed softly.

As we walked out of the cinema, I remembered back in school how many boys, including myself, had crushes on Jessica. She was a talented fighter and incredibly smart. Not only that, but she was also a famous streamer and beyond pretty. If you had asked me, she was completely out of my league. If anyone had said to me a few months ago that this would happen, I honestly would never have believed them.

In some ways, her story reminded me of Liam’s. The only difference was she had the support.

Afterwards, we walked along the beach. It was night, but the weather was still warm. The beach was alive with people drinking and dancing to loud music. Some of them were barbecuing, too. It seemed like no matter where you went on Fight Island, there was a party.

Jessica and I found a quiet spot at the edge of the beach to sit and talk. The warm night air wrapped around us and when Jessica turned to me, her eyes reflected the moonlight. They glistened like gems in the pale moonlight.

“You know,” she said. “I used to feel so much pressure to live up to my parents’ legacy,” she admitted. “But being here, with you, I feel like I can just be myself.”

I smiled and felt a warmth spread through me.

“I get that. I never thought I’d find someone who understands the kind of pressure we’re under.”

As the night went on, we talked about our dreams, fears, and everything in between. It was a side of Jessica I had never seen before, and I felt a deep connection growing between us. By the time we started heading back to the facility that night, I knew that this day had changed something fundamental in our relationship.

Before she had walked away, Jessica turned to me with a serious look on her face.

“Martial, do you really still want to do this?” she asked.

Her voice trembled slightly and I could see the worry in her eyes.

“Do what?” I asked.

“The baby, Martial.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t fully processed the reality of our situation. It felt like we were still up in the air about it. But then some days, it felt like I knew for a fact that this was the path we were going down. Still, with all of that, I didn't hesitate with my answer.

“Of course,” I said firmly. “I want this.”

Jessica looked relieved, but I could still see the worry in her eyes.

“We need to tell people soon. I can’t keep sparring and training like this. I’m exhausted and getting sick almost every morning.”

“Why haven’t you been talking to me about this?” I asked. I felt so bad that she was going through all of this alone.

“You don’t ask,” she said.

“I don’t know what to ask,” I replied. “But I want to know.”

Something changed when I said that.

“We need to figure out,” she said after a moment of analysing my face.

“We'll figure it out. I promise.”

She hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear.

“I love you.”

I froze and the words hung in the air between us. Before I could respond, a girl approached us with her face illuminated by the lights of the nearby party.

“Hey, do you guys want to join a house party tonight?” she asked with a cheerful voice.

I swear, sometimes these people popped up at the worst moments like NPCs. I smiled politely and shook my head.

“No, thanks,” I said. “We need to get back to the training facility.”

“Are you fighters?” she asked.

I started regretting mentioning the facility, but this was what we were here for.

“Yes, for New Zealand,” I replied.

She offered her commiserations about the previous day’s match, which we both appreciated.

“I hope you guys bounce back,” she said.

We thanked her and continued our walk back to the training facility. The silence between us was comfortable even though we were both lost in our thoughts. When we reached the front of the training facility, Jessica kissed me goodnight. Her lips were soft and warm against mine. It felt like home.

I must have floated back to my room because I could hardly remember how I got there. I lay in bed and a text from Jessica came through.

“Thank you for tonight. I needed that. Goodnight, Martial. ❤️”

I stared at the message for a while and fell asleep staring at that little emoji.

I woke up early and the first rays of dawn barely pierced through the curtains. My mind was a swimming with thoughts. Today was the first day back in training, but more importantly, it was the day I had to face reality. I took a deep breath and got out of bed. I don’t think I had fully grasped the concept of carrying the world on my shoulders until that morning. After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I drank some water and took my supplements mechanically. My mind was elsewhere.

I grabbed my phone and called Jessica. She answered almost immediately, but her voice was filled with the same anxiety I felt.

“Martial?” she asked softly.

“Meet me before training,” I said as I tried to keep my voice calm.

I knew what we had to do, so I got dressed and headed down to the training room. We got there almost at the same time and we walked in together, the silence between us was filled with unspoken fears and the energy in the room was low. The sting of our recent defeat against Team Ireland was still centre stage as a reminder of the stakes we faced.

I took a deep breath and approached Coach Flynn, who was overseeing the warm-ups with a focused intensity.

“Coach, can we talk in your office?” I asked with my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me and his eyes immediately narrowed in concern.

“Of course. Coaches, take over the warm-up,” he instructed and led the way to his office. Jessica and I followed with our hearts pounding in unison.

Inside the office, Coach Flynn sat behind his desk. This was just a regular human being like you or me, but his presence imposing. Ok, to be real, he wasn’t all that regular of a person and he also had the power to make or break our futures at that point. The desk felt like a barrier that was both physical and emotional. He looked at us with his gaze sharp and piercing.

“What’s going on?” he asked calmly.

I looked at Jessica and took her trembling hand in mine. Then, I took another deep breath and met Coach Flynn’s gaze.

“Coach... Jessica is pregnant.”

The silence that followed knocked the wind out of me. It was deafening. Coach Flynn’s eyes widened slightly before he leaned back in his chair. It was this contortion of shock and disappointment spreading deep into the lines on his face. He was usually so composed, but now he looked like he wanted to throw me out the window. Jessica could sense the tension and spoke up immediately.

“I’m so sorry, Coach Flynn. It just happened. It’s not Martial’s fault.”

Coach Flynn cut her off.

“How long has it been?” he asked tensely.

“12 weeks,” she replied softly with downcast eyes.

He rubbed his face with his hand. He looked weary and older than usual.

“This is a serious situation,” he said softer but no less intense. “You both know the consequences, right? This could jeopardize your careers.”

There was nothing to stop him from tossing us both out. I knew that.

“I know, Coach. But we’re ready to face whatever comes,” I said.

Coach Flynn’s eyes softened just a fraction.

“What was said in this office stays in this office. Jessica, go to your room. Martial, get back to training. I need to think.”

Jessica squeezed my hand before leaving and gave me a small and reassuring smile. I returned to the training room and tried to shake off the feeling of Coach Flynn’s disappointed look. I was deflated. It had taken all of two minutes in his office to potentially destroy both our careers. I just hoped there was a way to fix things. We needed our careers now more than ever. We had a child coming that we needed to think of.

The training session was grueling, but I pushed myself harder than ever. I had to channel my anxiety and fear into every movement. My teammates could sense something was off, but no one asked. It was one of those I knew that they knew, but I didn’t want them to know that I knew that they knew something was wrong. During a break, Coach Flynn called me over. I assumed that he had had enough time to think and I was just grateful for the fact that it was sooner than later.

“Martial,” he said quietly, “I need you to stay focused. This is an important moment for you and for the team. Don’t let this situation derail you. Understand?”

“Yes, Coach,” I replied with determination burning in my chest.

“Good. Now get back out there and show me what you’re made of.”

As I continued training, my mind drifted back to Jessica and our conversation. All of the turmoil aside, a flicker of hope was lit within me. I also had this really deep resolve that I couldn’t let this setback define me. It was time to prove my resilience, not just as a fighter, but as a future father.

By the end of the session I was dead tired, but I wasn’t going to leave things hanging. I walked up to Coach Flynn with as much bravery I could work up.

“Coach… sorry if I let you down,” I said. “I’m gonna give everything I’ve got to this team. To my future too.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then gave a slow nod.

“I believe in you, Martial. Now go make us proud.”

Hearing that lit something in me. I knew the road ahead wasn’t gonna be easy, but I felt ready for Jessica, for the team, for my mum, and for myself.

Coach Carter called us all in and we huddled up. His face was set and serious.

“Alright everyone, we have Team Mexico next,” he began. “We all saw their Captain, Heavyweight Alejandro Ramírez, and his knockout victory last week. We know he’s dangerous. I need all the Super Middleweights and Heavyweight backups to push Liam Tahana in the next three weeks. We’ll be doing extra sparring, but keep it light and technical. As for our captain, Ari Morgan, you’ve already put in a lot of work. Let’s focus on getting in better shape and staying sharp.”

The wrestling practice that followed was a challenge to say the least. We tried to recapture the energy we had a few weeks ago, but it was tough. I had more wrestling rounds than usual to focus on takedown defense and scrambles with Ari Morgan, Ethan Ngata, and Simon Patel. Even though I had the weight advantage, the lightweight fighters were quicker and more technical. I was up against it for sure.

After training, Coach Flynn announced that all official fight team members should head to the media room for the scrum. Out of habit, I began walking towards the recovery room.

“MARTIAL!” Coach Flynn’s voice cut through the chatter. I turned around to see him pointing towards the direction of the official fight team, Liam Tahana, Kahu Walker, Mason Evans, Tia Clarke, and Stacey Tui.

“Oh, shoot. Right. I’m with them now,” I said.

Everyone laughed and I did, too. That’s when it really set in that I was officially part of the fight team. It was a dream come true. Walking into the media scrum felt surreal. The room was alive with the clicks of cameras and the sound of reporters murmuring amongst themselves. The bright lights from the cameras were almost blinding.

They created a super intense contrast with the dimmer areas of the room.

Liam Tahana, Kahu Walker, Mason Evans, Tia Clarke, and Stacey Tui were already seated at the long table. They had their microphones positioned in front of them. They looked up as I entered and greeted. The media’s attention moved to me almost immediately. I was the new kid on the block and their lenses along with their mics were directed my way.

Coach Flynn gestured for me to take my seat.

“Martial, over here,” he said as he pointed to the spot next to Stacey. I walked over and felt the eyes of the entire room on me before I sat down.

The reporters wasted no time. Hands shot up, and the first question was directed at Liam Tahana.

“Liam, how are you preparing for your upcoming fight against Alejandro Ramírez?” a reporter asked.

Liam leaned into his microphone and confidently said. “We’re focusing on strategy and technique. Ramírez is a tough opponent, but we have a solid plan in place. I’ve got great training partners pushing me every day.”

Another reporter turned to Tia Clarke.

“Tia, what’s the team’s morale like after the loss to Team Ireland?”

Tia smiled slightly.

“We’re more dogged than ever. Losses happen, but it’s about how you bounce back. We’ve been training hard and supporting each other. We’re ready for Team Mexico.”

Then, the focus turned to me again.

“Martial, this is your first time at the media scrum as an official fight team member. How does it feel?”

I leaned forward and my hands clasped the edges of the table to steady myself.

“It’s an honour. I’ve trained alongside these incredible fighters, and I’m ready to give it my all. We’re a team, and we’re in this together.”

Another question came my way.

“Martial, what do you think about the upcoming fight with Team Mexico? Any specific strategies you’re working on?”

I looked at Coach Flynn, who gave me an encouraging nod.

“Every fight is a challenge. We’re focusing on our strengths and improving our weaknesses. For me, it’s about staying sharp and being ready to support my team in any way I can.”

For a second, I didn’t even recognize my own voice. I wasn’t used to being the composed one who fielded questions without giving too much away like a seasoned pro. This was all new to me, but even I wouldn’t have guessed it.

The media continued to ask questions, and we responded, but our emphasis was our unity. It was a tough room, but we held our ground and presented a united front.

When the session wrapped up, Coach Flynn addressed the reporters.

“Thank you all for coming. We appreciate the support and interest. We’re focused on our preparation and looking forward to the upcoming match.”

With that, we stood up and made our way out of the room. The intensity of the media scrum was behind us, but the real challenge was still ahead. We had a lot of work to do, and the countdown to our match against Team Mexico had officially begun.