Leon S. Kennedy
It had been his last flashbang that had allowed Leon to get out of the mess his opponent was attempting to trap him in. Leon had then proceeded to scale up Lady Liberty's interior, firing pot shots at the Weavile, which was forced to take cover opposed to cover ground, as there were significantly less places to hide.
It was within the head of Liberty where they met again, Leon stepping back from a slash by the creature, only for it to zip behind him and attempt again. Leon responded by swinging his leg about. A clash, her claws digging into his leg, but the force of his kick was enough to lift her off the ground, slamming into the side of Liberty's head. With no time to retaliate, Leon pushed through the sting of his legs as he spun with another kick using his other leg, slamming the Weavile back into the wall a split second after she'd bounced off of it. The metal dented as Leon whipped out Matilda to begin firing, his expert aim at such close range, and Weavile's momentary stun, forcing a bullet to plunge through her arm, then a second through her stomach.
Much like how Leon powered through the deep gashes in his leg, the pokemon powered through the additional bullet holes as she used Icicle Crash again. The cramped environment that usually played to Leon's strength turned against him (alongside his injury) as he sidestepped one icicle, barely avoided a second, before a third struck him, to which he retaliated with the slam of his fist in simple response. It cracked in half, though slammed him into the ground as the Weavile darted forward, ripping through her own shard to plunge both of her claws into Leon's chest.
With a scream, Leon instinctively back-handed the creature, who flew a few feet away, stumbling on her feet as she landed. Crimson liquid began to quickly pool around Leon from more than just his leg as he grunted, turning to his side in an attempt to get up. "Literally fought a giant ogre once..." the man grunted to himself. "And this is what's beating me? Ugh... I call BS..."
Pushing himself up slowly, the Weavile darted forward, raking her claws across his back as she moved, then again across his already ravaged chest. Matilda was lying nearby, but in Leon's case, it might have been a mile away. Again, Weavile darted by, deepening more gashes along his back, but when she came back around for another go at his chest, the man's hand struck out equally as fast as her, grasping the Weavile by her neck, before it subsequently slammed her back-first onto the floor in the same second. Before she could recover her breath, the slamming having emptied her lungs, Leon's other fist slammed into her throat, then again, and a third time, before the swipe of Weavile's claws in desperation, her pummeled throat at risk of being crushed like papier mâché, and Leon's severed hand collapsed to the ground beside her, blood from his fresh stump waterfalling onto her face.
Seemingly spent, Leon didn't even yell at his injury this time, instead slumping back to his side, chest heaving as the Weavile lay only a couple feet from him.
"At least I didn't fall like an idiot this time," the man said, his voice humored, though evidently weak. Weavile was the first of the two to rise to her feet, rubbing at her nearly-crushed throat, breathing incredibly hard for her at the moment as her eyes glared daggers into the man, his eyelids fluttering. The amount of blood he'd lost was incredible. Any lesser man would have died from blood loss long before him, though it seemed his injuries had caught up with him. "I think I'll stick to fighting monsters," Leon concluded, before his chest stilled, as did his eyelids.
A fanfare began to echo.
Winner: Weavile!
Loser: Leon S. Kennedy!
Revan, the Lost Jedi
"Simple," Revan's voice intruded on the conversation before Metal Sonic could give his own answer. The gray Jedi's eyes bored into the metallic ones. "Another version was met. It is why the sky above shatters. It is why that soldier keeps staring at us," Revan gestured with his thumb in Chief's direction. Revan knew this not by penetrating Specter's mind, nor Metal's (as Metal was a machine, there was no mind to penetrate, as far as the force was concerned), but instead by piercing the Master Chief's mind, which wasn't a hard task at all, at least in peering at memories.
"The duck is subject to this, as well," Revan provided to Specter in regards to his next opponent. "As does the child who bested the both of us," he added in Metal's direction. "You will not comprehend it yet, Specter. Even I don't, not in full. Beat the duck, and you should earn the knowledge for yourself."
At that moment, almost cutting Revan off at the end, before anyone could give a proper response in reply, the Host began to speak with a polite "ahem" that was amplified so loud it made Revan's teeth rattle. The small black creature called Weavile had just exited its gateway. The final battle had ended.
"Wow, wow, what a... what a good round!" the Host began to clap, his arms outstretched, his lazy grin permanent on his face as he blinked dolefully, clapping slowly. "Truly magnificent---ah, and don't forget, the magnificence is mostly thanks to me, I mean, who could be a better host? Heh heh..." he paused, almost as though he expected applause as a result. After a few moments of awkward silence, he moved on, unperturbed. "Now we have a little something special this round. I mean, these are the semi-finals, right? Gotta do something fun! And what better fun, than... a dinner party. I like those, they're pretty... pretty. And fun, too, of course."
Again, silence was met.
"Some of you may be wondering why the loser's of the winner's didn't come back, save for Raven minus the Starfire over there," Host gestured to Revan. "Simple, I just wanted to do this," with the snap of his fingers... Revan was no more.
"He was kind of annoying," Host added, "so I found it prudent to pop him. Alright, here you go!"
Winner's Bracket - Semi-Finals
Loser's Bracket - Semi-Finals
"Everybody have fun! Er- everybody except the Winner's Bracket. We're gonna have super fun. Dinner party, remember? Loser's can get right to killing, though."