Like something out of a cheaply made horror flick, Coop awakened in a panic, the side of his face numb and nothing but darkness surrounding him. This couldn’t be it, could it? Balling his fists up, he thrust them forward; them moving like he was in mud before smacking against something hard. Using his fists like hammers, he smashed them against the wall repeatedly, the soft thudding filling the chamber. A mask covered his nose and mouth, making his breathing complicated. A sliver of light pierced through the darkness, almost blinding him at the moment, before it spread out more evenly, a shadowy figure hovering over him.

“He’s awake,” the voice echoed through the aether. “Isn’t he supposed to be out still?”

“Shit,” another voice answered. A second shadow figure joined the other, this one more stout to the other figure’s svelte frame. “Stubborn bastard.”

The second figure disappeared for a moment, when a sudden rush of air filled the chamber, fluid dissipating around him, sucking downward. Clarity came, Sam standing over him while the scene came into a blurred focus. Joining her was Regis, fiddling with a panel that popped open the compartment to the regen tank. Coop tore the mask off and took and heaved for fresh air, only to find recycled ship air. Gasping to catch his breath, Sam leaned in and embraced him, her body warm against his cold, clammy frame.

“Wh-what happened?” he asked through his fog.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Sam said. “I called Regis, and he rushed over. He was already at the fight.”

“You were?” It made little sense yet, but a picture was forming in his mind of his last few moments. “Did I win?”

“Yeah, kid, you won.” Regis used his calming tone. “I know things between us ain’t great, but I couldn’t miss a tournament. Was good scouting, anyway, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

“We’re on a ship?” Coop asked, trying to blink his vision into sharpness.

“Hey, chill out with that until we get there,” Sam said.

“Get where?” he asked.

“We’re heading back to Luna.” Regis sauntered away from the cargo area and shouted from the next room. “Gotta get you to a specialist. Wanted you to be out the whole time, but it won’t be long now, anyway.”

“A specialist?” His face remained numb and his vision blurred. With the palm of his hand, he smacked at his eye, trying to clear things up. “I’ve got something in my eye, it’s all blurry.”

“Regis, this was a bad idea,” Sam called. “Should we put him back out?”

“Put me back what?” Coop picked himself up, bracing against the side of the overturned tank to prevent himself from slipping. “You put a regen tank on a ship? This is all so odd.”

“Look, kid. I’m gonna level with you,” Regis returned. “That eye ain’t looking so hot. I told you Skidz wasn’t gonna rest until he returned the favor.”

“Is that why my vision is blurry?”

“Sam, could you get me the medgun? If he’s gonna be up, we’re gonna have to do something until we get to the doc.”

“Right.” Sam rooted around in a cabinet, bringing Regis a small gun with a needle protruding from it.

“Alright, kid, this is gonna hurt, but if we’re gonna try to save that eye you’re gonna need to hold—“

“What the fuck?” Coop swatted the gun away. “Someone explain what’s happening here before you prod me any further. Did he take my eye out?”

“No, Coop. It’s still there.” Sam rubbed his arm. “It just... doesn’t look very good right now.”

“Doesn’t look very—“

Before he could finish the thought, a sting pierced the side of his head, followed by a blast of cold numbness. Coop swatted at his uncle again, sending the gun clattering along the floor while he gripped at his head, almost slipping in the glass tube.

“What the fuck?” he shouted.

“Sorry, kid. We gotta numb it up and freeze it if you’re out of the tank,” Regis said. “We all know those tanks can’t deal with eyes.”

“Gods fucking damnit,” Coop staggered out of the tube onto the cold, metal ship’s floor. His depth perception was off, Coop reaching for a counter and missing it, Sam catching him before he fell. His initial instinct was to pull away, but Sam’s embrace overflowed with warmth that he melted into. “How could this happen?”

“It’s okay, Regis said he’s got a guy back on Luna and he’ll look at it. A specialist, right?”

“Yeah, best in the game, kid,” Regis assured him.

“If he’s the bloody best, then why’s he on Luna?”

“You’re gonna have to either accept the help, or go fight Kriger with one eye, you got that?” Regis snapped.

“For fuck’s sake.” Coop slumped back against the wall, crumbling into a ball at the realization. This was happening. “I’ve gotta fight fucking Kriger again? Like this?”

“It’ll be okay, Coop,” Sam hovered over him. “We’re gonna get you fixed up as best we can, right?”

“It’ll be something,” Regis said. “No promises.”

A few deep breaths later, Coop had control over himself, straightening up and realizing he’d been stumbling around naked still. His panicked scan of his body was all the cues Sam needed to grab his clothes for him, helping Coop step into the loose linen pants and pull the shirt over his head.

“At least I won, right?”

“You’re damned straight you did,” Regis said. “Maybe I was wrong about those Ushinatta bastards, too. That Ramirez guy looked tough as nails out there, and that sacrifice move you did at the end to defeat Skidz? Who else would have the balls to do that but a madman who fought in those pits?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to do.” Images skipped through his mind of Skidz, arms wrapped tight around him, attempting to grind his eye out of the socket, just before the opening presented itself. A shudder ran through him. “Fucking Skidz.”

“There're no questions left if you can beat him or not, at least,” Sam said.

“There’s a bigger question now, though.” Kriger had decimated him in their last meeting. Even though his eye wasn’t in great condition then, it was sure better than it ever would be again, if they could even save it. An optical implant could make his life easier, but the league would never sign off on that, leaving him with a glass eye for battle if things were that dire. His uncle rushing him to home base meant it wasn’t looking good. A sigh quaked through his body, Sam reaching out and gripping his hand.

“I’m here with you,” she said.

“I know,” Coop returned the grip. “Thank you.”

The look on her face broke his heart. Living life like a warrior was the only way he’d imagined things going prior to meeting Sam. Now there were people that cared about him, stakes beyond winning or losing, or being some big hero. There was a lot more on the line now.

“Thanks, Regis,” Coop muttered.

“For what?” he asked.

“All of this. I appreciate it.”

“You sure everything’s okay in that head of yours?” Regis reached for Coop’s head.

“Oh fuck outta here.” Coop swatted him away. “Can’t even be nice to this asshole.”

Regis burst out laughing, Coop joining in, doing his best to ignore the uncertainty.