If I let loose and there’s no one left alive to tell about it, will Jen have my spleen for dinner? Nah, she’ll find out. Wish I could read people like that, should ask her how the fuck she does it. Besides, it works out better when I keep control anyway. Fucking tweety, wish we had a ticketing system or something, asshole needs a balance pass. Then again, everyone hits hard so maybe… Christ, this is boring.

  I’d been slowly making my way towards the arena while rummaging through someone else’s presumably ancient property. A twenty-sided Rubik’s cube kept me occupied for a couple of hours until I gave up on solving it and decided to stick with activities which involved significantly less brainpower. At least rooms with merely an Errant in them proved surprisingly uncommon, although I avoided them whenever possible. Those got condensed into energy. What surprised me most was how trivial the singles were, dying to a single deca - which left the energy equation neutral. A quirk of my class, maybe.

  After much contemplation, I’d switched my stored process from auto-absorb and ten launches to refilling two hundred energy per second. The safe regeneration rate was roughly my total capacity but some leeway seemed prudent. Adding an additional condition caused the preset to take up both my sub-process slots. Nonetheless, a few furniture-born goodies found their way into my rune pouch. The treasures were interesting if completely useless in any confrontations to come.

  A small vine-tied bag held scraped together remnants of a blue powder, no clue what it was. But tier 2 is tier 2. Happier finds included my very own blue metal plate the size of a pocket book cover and two similar ceramic ones. Maybe I could get some modern body armor going at some point. Unfortunately, a brand new but larger blue stone brick had been left behind because my tools remained at HQ. A shame since I could’ve used something else to do while waiting out the games. That was going to be my primary advice to everyone. Bring a hobby.

  Once again, I resisted the urge to scratch where my armor collared my neck. A rather painful cursory attempt and barely helpful awkward glance revealed the exposed edges of my cotton shirt underneath had molten on to the top of my skin. The rest of my protection held up well. It wasn’t ruined at least.

  Alas, my shield once more fast approached slag status and it seemed like a lot more post processing was in order, if I wanted it to hold up for more than a fight or two. Jeb was going to be pissed since he’d gone through what must have been a tremendous effort to make the front look like overlapping wings. While hints of artistic talent were present before - he’d been going for dragon and not bat - now all the sharp edges looked like hilly bumps and the imagery was completely lost.

  Reviewing my past encounter passed some time while wandering. The most important thing had been confirmed at least, the boogeyman wasn’t invincible. The exercise actually left me somewhat confused and doubting my recollection, could’ve sworn I caught it off-guard a time or two. That was especially at odds with the stats on display.

  My nemesis was fast, way too quick for a bomber, and the homing mini spheres further augmented the evidence. Obviously it had a control skill and while those were fairly common, the limit of three applied universally. Clever sub-process setups allowed for circumvention however. Birdbrain manipulated at least eight at once. The swing it had taken at my head also carried a ton of force behind it if the whistle and blowback were any indication.

  So my opponent had relatively high physical power, speed and magical speed. All stats which didn’t naturally grow for a bomber, nor would the combination make sense unless it had come across three free points somehow, which admittedly wasn’t entirely out of the question. The simpler explanation was often the best though and I suspected a very long history of arts and crafts instead. It would make sense to go through the work to stand a better chance at the games. Nonetheless, if so much preparation was involved then I’d also expect to see a very experienced and refined warrior to go along with it, which simply wasn’t the case.

  I might have misjudged its reactions but they were awfully similar to some of the folks who had trouble getting a hang of modern magic-martial arts and were prone to being blindsided. There were other little hints, like how it wore a ton of plate but was barely conscious of the weaknesses and gaps in the armor, or the same spray and pray approach to fighting which we shared. Moreover, the mini-spheres would’ve functioned better as floating landmines than missiles, deciding the engagement then and there. I’d come a lot closer to being blown up than originally presumed.

  In fact, if there had been a disciplined and experienced practitioner of System-enabled violence behind the wheel then the universal fearful response would have been entirely justified. Were these guys coasting by on raw stats and misdirection? Maybe they slipped the occasional random in between waves of hardened killers? Hard to say. Even so, at least I had a nearly complete picture of its skills. Classes shared core abilities and it also had the same micro-explosion skill which Barry liked to punch things with, along with a control skill. Only one unknown remained, sustaining the orbs most likely.

  Taking to the air in an open field gave me the best odds, hallways cramped my style. Barry had also recently begun tentatively experimenting with self-launching shenanigans after realizing he could ride the blastwave of his smaller explosions. Skills and abilities didn’t self-harm or cause friendly fire but allowed some ‘optional’ effects. Hence, birdy probably wasn’t landlocked, reducing my obvious advantage.

  Still, my physical speed was definitely higher, which more or less dictated the efficiency of mid-flight acrobatics. It wasn’t particularly hard for most classes to pick up some incredible velocity but avoiding hopeless disorientation complicated the matter. So, don’t get hit even once, try to force an aerial fight and then maneuver my way to victory, easy peasy lemon squeezy. Fuck.

  My wandering finally neared its end at the southern arena entrance after six more stairway descents. Camping around a corner for another few hours felt like a good idea until the realization struck me that a certain someone might decide on a victory lap before the portals went up.

  I entered the arena reluctantly while my field of vision widened massively, the games whiffed on the antiquity-inspired aesthetic by doing away with sand in favor of the sandstone look-alike. I was getting sick of it. With nothing to do, curiosity pushed me down the central stairway for a peek at the optional boss. Hopefully no one had set it free yet.

  The whole scene was almost comical. A raised dais with a big sandstone button stood in the middle. This room was a lot bigger than the previous ones and bland rather than frescoed, but the singular Errant covered one entire side across from me. It was caged though, which didn’t stop it from ineffectually slashing and stabbing at me through the bars with remarkable dexterity, deftly avoiding even grazing them and the whole spectacle was entirely silent. I was at a bit of a loss for words but ultimately settled on “nope”.

  It looked like a series of side-by-side double doors with accompanying interconnected arches and thresholds. The embellishments were all over the place; random depictions of messed up angels, freaky demons, weird animals, unusual trees, geometrically shaped rocks, malformed figures and System knows what else, all with a very gothic feel to them. The fancy doors opened and shut all the time, while multi-jointed and sometimes hinged arms both mechanical and seemingly biological snapped out from the creaks with various weapons, and almost with more speed than I could react to, even from across the room.

  It had range as well, both in the diversity on display - sporting a sword, axe, scythe, hammer, pike and a bunch more - and the distance it could strike. Some attacks nearly reached the fucking pedestal. I’d have liked my odds better if it was about half as fast and had some kind of obvious weakness on display, a core in particular, but it was not to be so I got the hell out of here.

  With my curiosity satisfied, I settled in for a long wait while leaning against the wall next to the south entrance and risked another snack while floor after floor collapsed. The second-to-last one went down and prompted a final visit to the central steps. More than half a day of avoiding encounters caused some of the tension to drop, so I laughed when someone entered the arena from the north-east archway with only a little over an hour left on the clock before the portals were due to appear.

  Last I checked reality had turned into a video game and not a cartoon. My certainties aside, discount dynamite lugged what seemed an awful lot like a giant linen bag over its shoulder, the only thing missing were green dollar signs. It dropped the loot immediately upon entering. Then it started moving towards me while I put out and stashed my pipe, drank down my last two vials, and then reciprocated with my own, hopefully equally menacing walk.

  I finally got a proper viewing. Both like and unlike how Jeb preferred it, its armor was wing-themed but of the feathery variety. Bit overkill in my opinion. The helmet looked like two wings starting from the nose bridge. If it even had a nose, I couldn’t tell. The shoulder plates were wings, the shin and thigh guards, the breastplate, everything had the same motif. And there was a lot of it. I spotted hints of yellow fluffy down in the few spots uncovered by armor.

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  I was undecided on whether to consider it impressive or silly, there were little slits or holes in all the armoring which allowed vibrant feathers, ranging from dull amber to bright gold, both short and long, to pass through. The effect coalesced into a peacock-like strut, hence why I called it a bird. It definitely wasn’t human, the eyes had pupils like ours but what should have been white sclera were instead a brown so dark to near red.

  It was quite a sight, although my favorite part was the bloody bandage wrapped around its shoulder. The wound didn’t seem to bother the outsider too much, if at all. Once we were within shoutshot I refused to keep my mouth shut.

  “We don’t have to fight. There will be five portals out, we can just stay on opposite ends and leave peacefully.” It wasn’t a lie, technically speaking.

  The translated reply came in as a sonorous female voice, with sharp staccato cawing in the background.

  “Very well, we are the last two left so there is no risk to it and I tire of this cull.”

  Light traveled faster than sound which was why some people looked smart until they opened their mouth… or beak, maybe? I was definitely dealing with a rookie because she’d given away far too much in one sentence.

  “Just one more thing, my honor demands the loot from the two I killed since I know you have it.”

  She twitched her head towards the bag and I immediately shot her with a full bar’s worth of energy.

  I expected to see bits of internal organs next but witnessed a moment of great panic instead when the loud crack of a coin dissipating alerted her to my sneak attack. Her war pick hooked the flashing blade while she tried to simultaneously dodge. A piece of armor shattered as the sword took a shallow bite out of her midriff regardless.

  She stopped disbelieving after a second, enough time for me to begin circling her at a walk. A stream of carefully aimed fifties lanced at her – shoulder, knee, head, chest, other knee, and so forth. She danced, she parried, she blocked. She sent orbs at me, easily sidestepped, their trajectory fixed after exiting the familiar range of her control skill. She took glancing blows on armor, and then she overlaid eleven orbs, henceforth annihilating incoming fire with the super sphere. Another crystal coin crackled away to dust and my barrage ceased. Swords littered the ground around her, some freshly summoned. I was down 9 already. Only a few deca’s did any damage, merely grazing hits by virtue of sheer volume.

  We stared at each other.

  An explosion behind threw the bird my way, her lack of finesse evidenced by an arched back. In response I lifted an arm, putting myself in the air. A twist at the apex faced me towards her, quickly followed by a dash to the side, avoiding a sphere that had led me. She wouldn’t come for me, so I went for her, intending a fly-by shooting.

  I launched myself towards and upon closing shot a hundred at her, yet she managed another miracle parry and only suffered a minor shoulder wound for all my efforts. Another fifty energy burned away and I only narrowly managed an aerial escape from her expanding detonation.

  Instead of allowing me to land, she blasted herself to intercept and received another duo-deca for her troubles, to no result this time, and I yanked myself into the air once more. She declined to send anything after me. This afforded me a second to think. I had more tricks to play even though I’d already gone through about half my remaining swords and energy. I angled a blade towards the stairwell and nearly sent myself sprawling, but managed to turn my landing into a frantic run after a precarious stumble.

  She’d caught on and catapulted herself in the same direction with repeat explosions, almost catching me just as I hit the ground. A ceramic plate thrown her way triggered a skidding stop - until she realized it wasn’t enchanted. She switched her war-pick from right to left and sped off after me again. Well, some damage at least.

  I pointed my right index finger at her and took a moment to aim, then popped off a 150, hip-fired from my left instead. A clash rang and an explosion behind her left shoulder added massive force and speed to her unbalanced swing. Air whooshed below me as I became airborne once more. At least I’d done some damage this time and blown an armor plate off her shin. I’d been secretly aiming for a leg in hopes of crippling her mobility but to no avail apparently.

  Then again, that had a second purpose as well, which she discovered when five metal cats rushed up the stairwell in a fury, jumping to claw at her while a full bar dumped into her from directly above. What I saw next beggared belief and only served to solidify my suspicion the bitch was getting better and better mid-fight, at a rather unreasonable rate to boot.

  Rather than exploding like I expected her to and thus leaving her vulnerable to the descending strike, she instead spawned interdicting orbs. The dumb enchantments ran straight into them and she perfectly interspersed the flat of her weapon in the path of my fully powered shot as the assault-cats were thrown away in pieces, just like her now-ruined war-pick. All that without taking her sight off me, deep brown eyes staring into my soul, judging, hating, condescending.

  I blinked twice in astonishment, and then ran out of time because my opponent apparently had an epiphany. She manifested two spheres held in the grip of her… talons. This time, she chased me up, first by hopping and then propelling herself with heel-spawned explosions, leading with a primed arm. I quickly dashed out of the way but she detonated the one in her lagging arm to follow me. I more felt than heard another one of my coins disappear, dodging twice by adding just as many rearward vectors to my panicked flight.

  I needed to double-evade because she used a series of small bursts to perform a high-speed roundhouse kick - I noticed she had three toes - which nearly took my head off. A cocked arm followed behind the miss, carrying the momentum and throwing a sphere after me, blocked by my blinked shield. The knockback added to my rapid soar. By the time I recovered and stabilized, she’d just landed and was already making her way, several times faster than before, towards my expected landing site.

  I risked another full bar but missed the moving target with a physical sword, chosen by accident. I didn’t know what to do at this point so I sent myself upwards to buy time, and then did it again, gaining some impressive height. Quickly taking stock revealed a foregone conclusion. I was going to die here.

  I had 5 swords, 4 magical plus one physical, and 700 energy to spend with a thousand in reserve. From the looks of it she planned to deny me any chances of recovering the many blades strewn about the arena. I’d somehow avoided taking injuries, unlike my blast-happy nemesis who was getting worn down, but not quickly enough for it to matter. My bag of tricks also ran dry. I’d been in the zone during the fight yet even my adrenaline fueled battle frenzy was making way for something I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the distinct frustration of being outmatched and knowing it. The certainty that defeat was inevitable.

  The feeling only solidified when she created something of an explosive net and had it float gently a couple of meters above her, effectively mining future fly-by shootings. I countered by deca-launching another sword down while doing the same to myself, off to the side. The net winked out and she dodged it with bomb-assisted movement, already careening towards me once more on an intercept course. She kept accelerating through repeated self-bombings and closed in at speed.

  Fuck it. If I’m going to die, then so are you. Morbid excitement took hold of me.

  I righted myself in the air, pointed my fist at her, palm up, and flipped her the bird while a mad grin spread across my face.

  A green physical sword unsheathed, adorned with cracks leaking sunbeams of ephemeral white light, at the tip of my middle finger and just barely touching it, aimed right at her while wind rushed.

  One word.

  “Die.”

  My perception of time slowed down to a crawl and I guessed this was the part where my life was supposed to flash by.

  I really wanted proper explosives but the closest I’d gotten was a live grenade that had to be detonated at point blank range, although I’d be pushing the pin instead of pulling it. Thus an astute observer would notice that I’d just magicked up a sabot round.

  My dissociation imagined a streak of crackling lightning, arcing from the coin in my bracer along and past the tip of my middle finger to the already overcharged magisteel sword – effect prolonged indefinitely by keeping it in my sheath. It detonated from a second dose of a thousand energy and propelled my very first albeit reshaped runescribing practice plate at the bitch. She wasn’t going to be parrying this one.

  It wasn’t even certain the hardened plate wouldn’t dissolve but I’d spent a lot of time practicing on it. Breathless designed the sword with a hollow core, while Jeb built it exactly according to spec. All that there had been to it afterwards was to overcharge the thing and then reshape my original runescribing plate, once again exactly to spec, and shove it in. My skill still considered it one sword despite actually being a compound of two components but for once System vagaries worked in my favor. In theory, this should accelerate the sabot to hypersonic speeds although things didn’t function quite so these days. The resulting explosion should also kill me.

  This was to say, while not a pure mage, I could nuke with the best of them.

  The effect was instantaneous; I blew out my eardrums and turned my opponents’ chest into a chunky red and yellow mist. The last thing I saw was first my extended hand, then my arm evaporating in the blast wave. It reached past my elbow when I finally got my shield up. Which crashed into me so hard I lost consciousness…?

  So it was with a relieved if pounding heart when I woke up alive. Really should’ve saved my last endurance potion. I had been afforded a moment of tranquility thanks to the sharp spike of pain from the mending I’d just cast on myself overriding the absolute agony assaulting my senses when some kind of instinctual horror struck me at the dawning realization that most of my right arm and both feet were simply gone. As the moment passed, I returned to my senses and screamed, stopping after a couple of seconds once it sank in that I was sort of fine if a bit lightheaded, sore, deaf and completely broken. Still a step up from not waking at all.

  A round after image from staring at a blindingly bright light clouded my vision. I gave up on finding my shield and controlled a telekinetic sword sled for myself instead. The last floor had already collapsed, threatening me to hurry up. I completely ignored miss salsa stain and willed myself over to the bag of goodies, which I dragged to a thankfully nearby portal with great effort and equal motivation. I wasn’t about to leave the loot behind, on the clock or not. In a heaving display of affection I tripped myself into victory while hugging a giant bag of ill-gotten gains.

  All pain receded as I embraced weightlessness in both body and mind, feeling like a detached consciousness in the middle of nowhere.

  My interface forced a notification on me.

  “Congratulations, Ascendant.”

  It was underscored by a blinking black and yellow box with the word ‘continue’ on it, so I mind-pushed the button.

  As usual, the System did not fuck around.