[WP] You have the ability to multiply the strength of your punches, but you feel the pain of your opponent. One day you punch someone and feel nothing.

Striker launched himself at the giant of a man.

His breath caught in his throat. He braced, pushing hard - and his fists erupted into light. The squeals of their onlookers erupted.

The boom of his fist colliding with the man's chest rang in his ears. He fell away, preemptively bracing himself. In their world, powers came at a cost, and his was rather more direct than most. His fans could never know the pain that each blow wracked his form with. The pain of his opponents.

Only, when he flinched, his muscles tensing....nothing happened.

The other man bellowed, a loose, angry roar. Striker fell away, bringing his arms up. The blow sailing towards his face slammed into his forearms instead. He lurched, fighting to keep his balance against the strength of the hit.

He stared, blinking at the man-giant through the gap between his wrists. Nothing? That...that couldn't be right. Striker had long since learned to temper his blows, lest he injure himself in the fighting, but he never felt nothing.

The man's skin shimmered before his eyes, flexing and reforming.

Striker pushed himself up taller, collecting what energy he could muster into his fists. And then he hurled himself back into it, lunging towards his opponent.

He realized he was smiling.

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The pair of men lay side by side on the shattered concrete, both panting for breath. Striker pushed himself up to his elbows, glaring at the man-giant - who scowled right back. Both of them were covered in blackened, greenish bruises. From the aching in his hand, his wrist, Striker knew more than a few bones had been broken in the fight.

But still, the man wore that damned neutral expression, growing under his breath. It was like the only thing keeping him from jumping back into the fray was sheer exhaustion.

"Hold up," Striker said, raising one hand and settling back onto his haunches as the man started to rise.

The giant stopped.

Striker sighed, glaring at him. But try as he might, the expression...wasn't all that angry. "That was a heck of a fight," he heard himself saying. "I've never done anything like that."

The man grumbled something incomprehensible, laying flat again. Striker didn't know if his opponent could even feel pain, given the abuse he'd dished out, but all the damage he'd taken couldn't be comfortable.

The giant lay flay as Striker blinked, triggering his interface.

And then gaped.

His inbox...was full. He didn't even know you could fill one of those things. And there were messages waiting in his voicecon, too. When he pulled up the web, the sight of the two of them greeted him.

It seemed his opinion on the matter had been shared by pretty much the whole city - that had been a hell of a fight.

"What the hell's your name?" he said, glancing sidelong at the giant.

The big man turned his head to the side, spitting blood onto the pavement. He didn't reply.

Striker grinned. "Whatever. Doesn't matter." He let his hands drop to his lap, clasping there. "So...I have a proposal.

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The sun shone down from overhead, hot and bright and welcoming. The dock district was quiet at this hour - the ships were mostly gone, leaving wide expanses of wood and concrete all but bare.

And high overhead, the sidewalks of the upper city looked out over the seaside view.

The ground rumbled. And then The Giant erupted from a building, roaring his fury for the world to hear. Sceams broke out as people started running.

"Striker!" the massive, looming man bellowed. "Get out here! I'm not done with you!"

Striker grinned. Good. He'd remembered his lines this time.

And then he leapt out into the brilliant light, accelerating towards his opponent.