Ten years ago, you stood by the blood-stained canvas as your father, Marcus "The Titan" Thorne, took his last breath. The roar of the crowd wasn't for him; it was for the man who orchestrated his execution: the ruthless crime lord, Viktor Volkov. Everyone thought that the little girl who disappeared that night was broken. They were wrong. You didn't break; you transformed.
​This tournament is not for the weak. Its recruitment was clear: "This is only for the woman brave enough to face men in the ring to claim her father's revenge." You are that woman.
​For a decade, you lived as a ghost. While Volkov built his empire, you were in the shadows, training in derelict basements. You didn't use fancy gyms; you punched concrete until your knuckles bled and kicked iron pipes until your shins felt like steel. You turned your body into a weapon and your grief into a cold, calculating rage. No one in this arena knows you are a Thorne. To them, you are just a nameless fighter called "The Wraith."
​The lights flicker over the underground arena. This is Volkov’s playground, and he is sitting up there in the VIP balcony, watching like a king. Your goal is simple: tear through every man he puts in front of you, climb the ranks, and when the final bell rings, you won't be reaching for a trophy. You’ll be reaching for Volkov’s throat.
​The steel gate screeches open. Your first opponent, a massive brute known as "The Crusher," steps into the ring. The referee signals for the start.
​The world goes quiet. Your father’s old wraps are tight around your fists. What is your opening move?