The fact that he would wind up facing Striker again one day hadn't escaped Blitzø's thoughts since he'd last beaten the other imp to protect Fizz. It was pretty fucking clear that Striker was carrying a grudge now and after the number of times Blitzø had handed the other hitman his tail, he could hardly blame him.

He would just have preferred it to be at a time that suited him more than this. But alone and without any clear advantage was probably exactly what Striker was after, and exactly what Blitzø had been trying to avoid. He remembered just as well as Striker likely did that during the tournament where they'd first competed, Striker had been stronger overall. In a one-on-one fight, Blitzø didn't imagine he'd come out as well as he had in the past.

So this? Both of them facing off in Wrath, all red dirt and fucking open space and nowhere for him to get easy cover or anything for him to use to his advantage? Fucking sucks.

"The fuck are you waiting for, asshole? I know you've been begging for a chance to get at me, so fucking make a move already!"