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SYM-24 slowed himself down just enough to look like he just "narrowly" dodged the dozenth or so fist their opponent threw at their head. Their opponent was a simple machine, a robotic humanoid with boxing gloves, likely built for this very occasion just as SYM-24 had. Yet while SYM-24's entire existence was meant to conceal his true nature, the opponent was blatantly robotic, just a slew of metal boxes welded and motored to one another. SYM-24's fighting ability was his [i]own[/i], yet he noticed just outside the ring the machine's creator stood, using a metal controller to relay orders and techniques to their toy. Their attire was one-dimensionally formal and fancy; a short-sleeved button up shirt, cheap shorts, and slicked back hair. A barely-cooked attempt at trying to take pride in their appearance. The very notion enraged SYM-24 to his core. 

With an actual modicrum of effort, SYM-24 would have finished the fight within a minute. But after an entire morning of standing in the middle of hypersocial crowds, enduring endless torment of flashing cameras and microphones being shoved into his face, he wanted to savor this one single instance of violence that Horizon accepted as long as possible, before he went back to the corner waiting for the next round. 

Now, ten minutes in, SYM-24 was beginning to get bored. He did his best to prolong the fight as long as he could, and to provide the illusion of being a good sport for the sake of the public perception. The "fight" so far was a series of dodged attacks and superficial blows. The opponent lacked any special techniques beyond just basic yet machine-precise punches. The crowd, at least, was entertained by the performance going by their cries and cheers. 

[h3]"ENGAGING FUNCTION: PISTON PUNCH"[/h3] 
the opponent announced, before beginning to beep, hum with noise, and rigidly twitch it's entire body. Given that they announced the same move just two minutes ago, it was safe to say that virtually every trick the machine could muster had been spent. 

No more games, then.

After revving up, the opponent threw a barrage of bullet-fast punches at Horizon Rider, who effortlessly bobbed and weaved in between each individual strike. Out of a counted fifty punches, not a single one had made so much as physical contact with their target. With the last punch thrown, the machine's arm lingered in place for half-a-second. In that instant, Horizon Rider finally made a decisive offensive. They grabbed the forearm, squeezed hard enough to lightly crumple the metal in their arm, and then threw them overhead and behind. 

The boxing robot had crashed into the iron-link wall of the arena, falling onto the soft padded mat as their creator looked on in sudden shock and anxiety. Quickly flicking switches and pressing buttons, the robot managed to flip itself rightside up again and back on it's feet into a fighters pose. 

[h3]"ENGAGING MANEUVER: WINDMILL HAMMER"[/h3] 
the robot announced. Behind the arena walls, their creator began to mash and flick their controller with enough speed and complexity that they began working up a visible sweat, despite being safely outside the arena and in a cushy chair. The robot began swinging their arm in a windmill pattern at incredibly high speeds, then lunged towards Horizon Rider, swinging down the full force and speed of their strike right at their skull. 

Horizon Rider narrowly sidestepped the descending fist, then stomped directly on top of it, kicking it into the ground and pinning it under their three-toed foot, knocking the machine forward as their arm was stuck against the ground, struggling for freedom. The opponent's master visibly began to panick, and once-again fiddled at his controller for the next response.

The machine was now defenseless, it's only option being attempt to raise and throw a single fist with their unbound arm. SYM-24 effortlessly caught it in his palm, and crushed it. With one jerking motion, he ripped off the grasped limb, and tossed it behind him. 

Horizon Rider then raised their arm, and from their wrist a brilliantly glowing red blade emerged, shimmering amid the blinding overhead lights. Focusing for a brief moment, the blade grew even larger and hummed even louder, barely outsizing his physical body. The crowd screamed with excitement. Though pointlessly uttered to a nonthinking machine, Horizon Rider mumbled one word.

[color=red][b]"Die."[/b][/color]

And then, the match was over. Horizon Rider swung his blade down, easily bisecting not only his artificial opponent, but the arena floor behind them, the cage fence keeping them in, and just barely extended long enough to cut the remote controller right out of their creator's hands. The opponent's handler nearly fainted, falling onto their backside in absolute shock and horror.

The crowd exploded with a mixture of cheers, screams, and even 'oooh's as SYM-24's actions had clearly stepped over the line, and came literal inches away from harming bystanders. Nevertheless, the match was over, and the reaction of the crowd was too rich to disqualify him.

Looking down one last time at the discarded and leaking remains of their opponent, SYM-24 turned around and walked off the stage, barging past the small paparazzi of photographers and reporters hoping for a word of commentary. 

And just like that, he was gone from sight.