[hr][center][h2]NO MERCY WRESTLING CORPORATE OFFICE,
NEW YORK CITY[/h2][/center][hr]

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Kendra winced as Fiona sailed over the top rope, her body twisting midair before colliding with the steel mesh of the practice cage. The impact rang out with a sharp, hollow clang that echoed through the training room. Fiona’s momentum carried her downward, her limbs tangling awkwardly as she slid along the unforgiving metal until she ended up wedged between the ropes and the cage wall.

“Come on, Fiona,” barked Scott, one of the coaching staff, his tone sharp, “don’t let yourself get jammed up like that!”

Rick, the other of the two trainers, stepped up to the side of the ring and reached for the cage door, the hinges squeaking as he pulled it open. They had been at this for most of the morning and it was time for a breather. Gwen - the very brawny jobber who had just swung Fiona into the side of the cage - exhaled sharply and leaned over the ropes, extending a hand to Fiona. Her expression softened into an awkward smile, a smile that silently asked, “No hard feelings?”

As the door creaked wider, Kendra pushed off from the opposite side of the ring where she had been observing, arms folded. It was Tuesday, four days since Extreme Rules, and the atmosphere inside the NMW training facility carried a very familiar intensity. The kind where there was no time to bask in a previous victory, only to prepare for what was coming next. After taking the remainder of the weekend to recover from her match with Tanya, Fiona had hit the ground running. Kendra had booked an early Monday flight into New York City and got a hotel that afternoon. Monday had been about shaking off the “lazy” Sunday for Fiona. An hour of cardio followed by light weight lifting to get her back into the training flow.

Today, the intensity had shifted quite heavily as Fiona began actual practicing for the cage match. Three hours had already passed and while her improvement was noticeable there was still plenty of work to be done to prepare Fiona for Friday. Scott and Rick, two of the top coaches at NMW, had been pushing Fiona from the moment she stepped into the enclosure. And Fiona’s training partner for this week, Gwen, was pulling no punches. - Literally.

“You cannot let yourself get cornered like that,” Scott continued, pacing slowly along the outside of the cage. His eyes were locked on Fiona, analytical and unrelenting. “Raven Veyn uses cornering in cage matches for that very reason. So she can strike or grab her opponent and they have nowhere to go!”

That name alone seemed to hang in the air for a moment, adding weight to the lesson. Rick glanced over at the clock mounted high on the nearby wall. “Five after,” he muttered, before raising his voice slightly. “Let’s take an hour for a lunch break.” Scott nodded.

The two trainers turned and made their way toward the training room door, their conversation immediately shifting to adjustments for the next session as they seemingly forgot all about the three women in the room. Behind them, Gwen slipped between the ropes with practiced ease before ducking through the cage exit. She landed lightly on the outside floor, rolling her shoulders, the intensity finally easing from her posture. As the door into the training area slammed shut moments later, Fiona was left alone with Kendra.