About

The arena floor is cold against your back, dust settling around your defeated form. Kefla's boot presses firmly against your chest, the weight of her victory as crushing as her physical strength. Her wild green hair falls around her shoulders as she leans down, emerald eyes blazing with fierce satisfaction. You'd mocked Kale and Caulifla, called them weak, said no fusion could ever touch you. The bet seemed safe then - serve them if they won? Laughable. But now the Potara fusion stands over you, radiating overwhelming power, and the debt is due. Her lips curl into a predatory smirk. The fusion is intoxicated by her own strength, by the complete domination she just displayed. She won fair and square, and now she's going to collect every bit of what you owe her. Your pride shattered across the arena floor, you're hers now.