“So… how was your little errand?” Slava asked with a little smile.

  He had ambushed me. I knew he would do this. He had been unusually tight-lipped yesterday and this morning, but he had been biding his time until we were alone in the car, on our way to Johannes.

  “It was fine,” I said with a shrug.

  “I think it was a little better than that. I saw the way you floated into that room. You looked like you had found god himself on that errand.”

  I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, okay. It was better than fine. It was… productive. I got all the preparations I needed done, and I discovered something new about my power. Honestly, Slava, I knew my ability would be good because of my parentage. I just never knew how good.”

  “Firstly, you're bragging. Secondly, of course, it would be amazing. It’s yours. And thirdly, that’s all well and good but I want to know how it really went. Did you use the moves I told you? Spin her around, tell her she’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and then rip her—”

  “No!” I interrupted as my cheeks blushed even further upon the memory of yesterday. “If I used any of your moves I’d be in prison!”

  He waved away my complaint, “You young people and your hang-ups. Still… did you at least get a kiss?”

  I remembered her lips brushing my ear, her hand on my shoulder. And then I felt disappointed because I hadn’t gotten the kiss. “No,” I said with a sigh.

  “I knew it! This is what you're going to do when you see her next. You're going to wrap your arms around her, tell her that last time was disappointing, and kiss her. Right on the lips.”

  “Yeah yeah, just park. I want to see what Johannes cooked up.”

  We got out of the car and walked through the large warehouse, greeting some of the workers and I took note of some of the machines. The large flying machine that was made last time seemed like it was making headway because I could see that Johannes had moved on to manufacturing already, a large wing was being spray painted large wheels were being placed underneath a half-built one.

  And there, under one of the many machines and contraptions, stood Johannes. He had a blowtorch in one hand and a sandwich in the other, and he was waving them about. I couldn’t hear him though, which was probably for the better.

  I saw Slava’s string extend from his halo and lightly tap him on the back. He spun around in a circle, before following the long line of golden thread back to its user. This, for some reason, brought a scowl up to his face and he marched over to us immediately.

  “What did I say about wearing that basketball hoop in my fucking house? You can take it off if you want your child to get the shit she wants!”

  I held up a finger, “I am not his child, per se. I am Alexander’s and Llorona’s child.”

  “And technically, this isn’t your house,” Slava added.

  “Technically, I built this fucking place so it’s my house.” He waved his hand, gesturing at everything around us, before turning to me, “And I don’t see those other shits you mentioned with you, so clearly you're his child. Now do you want the stuff or not?”

  “Stuff?” I asked, ignoring his casual insult to the greatest people this world has ever seen.

  “Yeah, stuff. You're gonna like it,” he said with a grin.

  He turned and walked away. I was slightly confused, looking back at Slava, but I saw that his halo was down. And suddenly… It felt like I was looking at a different person.

  The dark hair and brown eyes were the same. The same height, half a head taller than me with the same broad shoulders. And yet… the smile he had on was one filled with pain and almost a hint of jealousy.

  I always saw that smile when my parents were mentioned, like he wanted to say your mine, but had to bite his tongue each time he was reminded of the truth. I was touched that he held me in such high regard, so I walked over and grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s go see what the rude man wants.”

  He sniffed, “He is rude, isn’t he?”

  We followed Johannes down a long pathway between his machines. He stopped to speak to every single one. And… none stopped Slava. Not a single person. They glanced at us and didn’t look back.

  I felt insulted for him. He was the most powerful man on this island by far. If Mother were conquering a new floor, he would run the tower in her stead. When her focus was here, he was the only one trusted to conquer a new floor in her stead.

  And now, walking down this pathway, no one stopped us. None spared us more than a glance. When I’m in charge, I am going to have a picture of his face on every billboard or TV commercial, without the halo. He deserves the same recognition whether he wears it or not.

  Finally, we arrived at some double doors that led to what can only be described as a test range. About a hundred makeshift targets were set at random distances across the open field, and half of them looked like they had been used for years.

  He stopped at the only table in this strange place, where a target propped up with rotten wood and a leftover cotton candy machine stood about a hundred and fifty meters away. He bent down, picked something up then turned around and presented it like he was presenting divinity.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  He was actually presenting a crossbow, “And here you go! I cooked up a weapon for you as thanks for giving me the idea with that bomb. Oh, and because I want to improve on the standard issue bow. So you're just the guinea pig. Congratulations, here you go.”

  I looked at the weapon, then at him, “Thank you, I suppose. Where is the weapon I personally requested?”

  He snorted, “Tough crowd. Well missy, it’s coming up now, but just use this firs—”

  “I would like to see the weapon I requested first, please,” I said, my mask on as I turned to look down the range.

  I heard naked irritation come through his voice as the crossbow was thrown at my feet, “You are just like your mother. A colossal bitch.”

  Slava turned to look at him. He wasn’t smiling. Johannes threw up his hands, “She is though!”

  Slava held up one finger toward him, and Johannes huffed before turning around, fishing in the crate on the table before pulling out a normal hand grenade.

  “What’s this?”

  “What you asked for you prissy little—”

  “Oi! Be nice. She’s just a teenager.” Slava shouted at the man, putting his arm around me and pulling me away as if the man was dangerous.

  “I am being nice! I made her a crossbow and everything! Look at how she acts the ungrateful little shit!”

  “That doesn’t mean you get to say whatever you want!”

  “Yes, it fucking does!”

  I jostled myself out of Slava’s grip before I held up my hands, “Children, children. Enough. Thank you, Johannes, I did not mean to be unappreciative. I respect your candor and am grateful that you have provided me with weaponry for the tournament. I just wished to see the weapon I asked for since it shall assist me with Calder, who is by far the most dangerous opponent I will face..”

  Johannes looked at me like I was smoking crack, “Most dangerous opponent? I haven’t heard of this boy, clearly he isn’t all that. No, I think that new B ranker coming up is by far the most dangerous man in your tournament. Heard he uses a shield, so I’m giving you the crossbow to help you with him.”

  “You think a B ranker, who just has a weaker version of Calder’s abilities, is the most dangerous opponent in a high rankers tournament? Are you serious?”

  “Of course! We have bets he’s going to be the first B ranker to win both tournaments! Finally, a man who sees the tools available and chooses the correct one. Of course, he’s going to win.”

  He held up the grenade, presenting it as if it were a silver bullet, “I mean look at this thing! Two of these and that Smelder boy is done!”

  To demonstrate, he pulled the pin and threw it into the middle of the range. As soon as it landed, I started counting.

  One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three…

  All of a sudden a loud pop sound and flash went off. I covered my eyes for the briefest of seconds, before blinking away the spots in my eyes.

  Like every other invention he had made, the weapon did not disappoint. About half the area between me and the target was covered in foam, far more than I had anticipated. My mask slipped and I sighed with relief… which I immediately regretted, because Johannes noticed.

  “You see! Even you know he is going to be easy to beat! That B ranker is going to be the problem I tell ya, I feel it in my bones.”

  Why does everyone support that stupid B-ranker? My mask fell off, and I looked at him as if he were the one smoking crack. Slava just patted my shoulder sadly, “he just thinks that because someone higher than E rank is finally using a shield.”

  “I don't understand why anyone above E rank doesn’t use a shield! Honestly, all of you are idiots. Do you have any idea the amount of LSD I had to take to come up with such a genius invention?”

  I was irritated at being reminded of that stupid civvie, so I told him what I really thought, “Oh, look, a tool humanity has been using for thousands of years and you just made a slightly more modern version. Clearly, imagination isn’t your strong suit.”

  He looked at me with such apprehension I almost felt bad. Then I remembered he thought the civvie was going to win, and all pity left me. Slava’s eyes were wide, glancing between us before he cleared his throat.

  “Right then. Sofia, why don’t you try out the crossbow? Such a gift shouldn’t go to waste.”

  Johannes looked away like a child, crossing his arms as I rolled my eyes before I picked up the crossbow.

  It was heavy, heavier than I expected. “May I have the ammo, please?”

  Johannes immediately got over his temper tantrum, “What are you doing? You don’t know how to load the thing you idiot, give it here.”

  He ripped the crossbow out of my hands, before picking up a small bolt from the table. No feathers, no tip, just a solid piece of lead that looked almost innocuous.

  His face grew serious as he demonstrated the weapon, “First, you put it into this slot down the middle, then you pull the string back until you hear the—” A faint click sound interrupted him.

  I didn’t say a word, but inside I was pensive. Yes, bowmen were a vital part of any squad as they were used for navigating difficult terrain, scouting, and where guns failed against the creatures in the tower, the bows he had made rarely did.

  But when I looked at this thing, the bow attached to it wasn’t even half the size of the standard issue. I failed to see how this was meant to counter Boris’s shield.

  And then he put the crossbow’s butt against his cheek, took aim and fired. The bolt left a hole through the foam, and even my blessed eyes couldn’t keep up with the bolt in flight. It hit the makeshift target so hard it fell over.

  I did not like that I underestimated the weapon. But I was more grateful, as I finally saw it would be very useful for the tower. I tilted my head one way, then the other. “I must say, I think it’s almost as good as my idea.”

  Johannes looked at me “You have a talent for pushing my buttons, don't ya? Well, here you go. Try it out, and then see if it’s as ‘good’ as your idea, hey?”

  He plopped the thing into my arms unexpectedly, fetched a few bolts out of his pocket, and threw them onto the table, two of them rolling off. He sneered, saying, “And here you go Your Majesty! You’ll find more from my assistant, look for a girl named Esmeralda. Now for the last part of the gift you don’t deserve,” he smacked a button on the table that was cleverly concealed on the side. And at the end of the range, popped up a fake dummy that was holding a shield.

  “Now! Fuck you, you ungrateful little shit. And fuck you too.” greeting me then Slava as he walked away.

  “He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?”

  “That he is.” Slava said with a sigh, “But he is right. You should be more grateful. I haven’t seen him go out of his way like this in… well ever, if I’m honest. Try and make it up to him somehow, would you?”

  I hefted the crossbow as I rolled my shoulders, “...You are right, I don’t want to have a difficult relationship with any of the S ranks. Especially him. But… that can be done after the tournament.”

  He looked at me skeptically, before turning to the large foam-riddled range, “So, do you like the crossbow or not?”

  In response, I put the stock to my cheek, aimed down sight as I breathed in… and then breathed out, squeezing the trigger. There was a light thud against my shoulder as the strings made a twanging noise as they vibrated.

  When I stopped marveling at the crossbow's lack of recoil, I looked at the end of the range, where the shield was impaled into the dummy's head and had split it like it was an overripe fruit.

  “Oh yes, I like the crossbow.”