NOVEL NEXT 162 - To the Arena
My waiting room was partially like I had expected. Much like the passageways leading up to it, the walls were gray and sparsely furnished. Along the left side was a long mirror with a desk and chair. The other side had a couple of more comfortable seats, along with a sturdy wardrobe. My understanding was that the Arena was used for putting on other shows when it wasn't Heroism season.
I sighed and closed the door behind me, before turning to the wall on the right.
[Some last words of advice, or are you finally pulling the trigger?]
The plain concrete shimmered as Silhouette came into view. Contrary to his usual stoic confidence, he sighed almost as deeply as I had before moving to sit on one of the soft seats. After he gestured, I followed suit and sat opposite him.
"I recently had a brief chat with a certain old man who has been following you around."
[Ah. Not quite the father figure you were hoping for?]
Silhouette sunk into the chair further and rested his hands on his stomach. "It frustrates me that I do not have the same recollection of the past as you do. Everything before my recuperation at the League is blank."
[It's not always such a boon to know. What did he tell you?]
"Everything he told you. About another brother of ours arriving for a family gathering." He drummed his fingers against his tactical gear. "You are rather good at making enemies."
For my part, I thought it was more impressive he had remained under the radar. He was in the same bucket as me, to some degree. Given his powers and how well he had integrated into the League's machinations, it made some sense the World Government hadn't come after him. Now, things may change.
[What can I say? I'm a social butterfly.]
"Have you not heard of the butterfly effect?" His singular yellow-light eye flickered slightly. "As much as I have been trying to be neutral on matters, now I have a vested interest. While I don't want to draw attention to myself, I cannot allow our brother to ruin what we both have here."
[Especially the part where I am alive.]
"I suppose so."
[But now that the expert spy is on the case and has spoken to a key witness…?]
He shrugged. "Unfortunately, our old man is saying that his connection to us isn't working for our impending guest. It cut off sometime last night. In my professional opinion, the Government is utilizing some really high-grade cloaking tech to keep things under wrap."
[And in your unprofessional opinion?]
"From what I know of the Government… they mean business. The fact that they're being covert means that they don't want whatever happens to be pinned on them."
I could read between the lines. The assassination attempt would be messy and overt affair, but it would also be desperate. If our brother failed to kill or capture me, then he'd be erased by the Gov. Assuming I didn't end him first. Those in control would blame any collateral on the League's failures in dealing with the rising Villain group. Any ties to them nonexistent - or so they thought.
[Have you relayed this information to your Director?]
Silhouette brought his hands up and steepled them in front of where his mouth would be. "Against better judgement, no. They are aware of an attack, and one that might be targeting the Arena… but I have decided not to tell them that it is our brother."
[Does that mean I have your support in whatever happens?]
There was a brief silence that followed my question. The super spy sat, contemplative and unmoving. Previously, he had been content enough to keep our familial tie at arm's length. We were both different people these days, with little to really link us other than a murky past and the chains of the League keeping us in the city. Right now, it seemed as though some parts of that wall were cracking.
"It is… my role here in the city to save those in danger. You understand it is difficult for me to give you any more or less than that statement."
[I understand.]
As one of the top S-Rank heroes in the city, his position and responsibilities were always paramount. He wouldn't do anything that could ruin his career, but also wasn't about to throw me out to the wolves. At the end of the day, he would help if possible, but I had to be smart enough not to expect it.
[So you broke into my changing room to let me know you might or might not stop me from being assassinated.]
His eye flickered as he let out an exasperated sigh. "I specifically had you moved to this unused room just in case your actual one was bugged, or worse. Any attack on you would probably come during one of your Arena trials. Some of the last-minute changes will make it clear if it is you being targeted or not. The Natural Disasters will be close to you at all times."
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I nodded slowly. Undoubtedly, he had a lot more sway over certain things. Even if hesitant to stand in my corner directly, he was stacking the deck in my favor. Still, he opened up a new can of worms.
[I'm not sure I've been clued in on these 'last-minute' changes.]
Silhouette gestured over to the table by the mirror. "The monitor would have notified you, but I disabled it so there was no tech entry point for bad actors. Several competitors have dropped out 'voluntarily'."
[Minimizing collateral?]
"Maximizing the screen time for the four most popular heroes entered." The yellow light in the center of his head shimmered as if he was rolling his eye. "The main arena itself is being split into quarters, and the four of you will complete stages simultaneously."
Security measures to keep any attack sectioned off into one quarter of the large space, rather than putting everywhere at risk. If it was truly an assassination attempt aimed at my head, then it allowed the League and those in the know to focus their security efforts.
[I assume Maestro is one of the four.]
"Naturally. That is why this event is getting so many views, after all." He waved a hand dismissively. "Blue Bulwark and Snake-guy are the other two."
[Is that his actual hero name, or is he that irrelevant?]
"Yes." Silhouette's eye glowed slightly brighter. "While this has simplified things for you, some of the challenges are designed to cause you problems." He paused to gesture toward my gun-arm. "Or for someone with only one arm, and you are clearly no longer in that group."
[A day full of surprises for everyone.]
He nodded, but seemed content enough not to continue that line of conversation. Instead, the two of us sat in contemplative silence for a couple of minutes. I had been so used to the secretive hero vanishing as soon as his message had been delivered that I didn't want to speak and scare him off. The brotherly connection was missing, but the addition of a third member of our old squad clearly had the gears in his head turning.
Eventually, he clicked his fingers and sat back up straight.
"Best thing to do is put the potential bloodbath out of your mind and win the challenges put before you. You can't let Maestro show you up, right?"
I tilted my head to the side.
[You mean you have a lot of money riding on me winning?]
"Angel," he murmured, repeating the rolling-eyes shimmer. "Many in this city need to tighten up their lips. Information is power, and power is what makes us."
He stood up and brushed down his super suit, despite it not being dusty. Clearly, he had endured my company for long enough.
[Is that something you came up with yourself, or did the League drill that into you?]
Silhouette didn't answer. Instead, his form shimmered and went invisible in front of me. After three long seconds, the door to the room opened up and promptly closed. My turn to roll my eyes.
//Clara: I would apologize for eavesdropping on your family business, Gunquake…
//Clara: But I imagine if he didn't want me to listen, I wouldn't be able to.
//Clara: I appreciate the sentiment, Gunquake.
//Clara: Unlike my sister, I will postpone any sap until the day is done.
//Clara: The drone is currently patrolling the upper stands of the Arena.
//Clara: Few others have airspace rights, so I will keep you informed.
//Dubs: Understood.
I turned away from my messages as the monitor on the table by the mirror fizzed into life. With a sigh, I pushed myself up from the comfortable chair and over to it. The unit itself was just a black bar of plastic and metal, three feet long and half that wide. Essentially a holographic computer and screen all in one. Technologically impressive, but out of fashion due to the expense of getting comparable resolution to digital means.
This one was a few years out of date and not particularly expensive, as the fuzzy details came up barely in focus. I scrolled through the holographic information sheets, most of them updating me on the changes that Silhouette mentioned.
Then there were rules and stipulations, which I mostly swept through without reading properly. Clara would have them memorized and could tell me anything important. I just had to act like a hero and avoid killing anyone. Practically as easy as breathing, these days.
Long documents full of details on the rights to my image and recordings of the event, alongside an addendum made by Kingston that rolled past my tired eyes. Just as I was about to give up on reading anything else, a timer appeared on the top right of the display.
A ten-minute countdown.
Another box appeared below it, the image of a waveform dancing up and down slightly before a voice came through.
"Gunquake? You there?" the male voice crackled.
[Speaking.]
"Fantastic. The older rooms can have shitty connections. This is Larry Barnes, the host of the event. Ready yourself for the timer, as staff will be coming at that time to take you onto the main stage."
[Understood.]
"Perfect. Put on a good show."
The box showing his speech vanished away before I could respond further. As much as I appreciated Silhouette putting me somewhere safe and secure, I couldn't help but feel as though I was missing out on the full experience. Maybe the purpose was also to humble me.
There was something familiar about the unfurnished walls and cluttered storage. Not unlike a lot of the places I broke into when carrying out my contract kills. I could just be projecting due to nerves, however.
I spent a good couple of minutes stretching out my muscles, starting with my neck and moving down. Then I checked all my gear. Everything was topped up. I loaded in a Blank shell from home and ejected it out. Everything as it should be.
The holo-monitor fizzled back out as a knock rapped at my door. Ten minutes didn't get you very far these days. I took a deep breath and pointed my gun-arm toward the door.
[Who is it?]
"Arena Staff, we met earlier." The voice was the same as the man who had led me here.
I stepped over and opened the door. It was him.
"I'm to escort you to the main stage, Gunquake."
All I could give him was a nod in return, my lack-of-mouth suddenly feeling rather dry. I tapped at my nutritional cannister and it was fine. There were spares in my jacket, along with stim packs.
In silence, I was taken down another gray corridor before a set of double doors opened up into another passage painted light blue. There was no more clutter, but signposts pointed to the several locations I didn't catch as I tried to keep up with my guide.
This route split down into a wider hall with even better illumination. The quality of the decor improved further. Another left turn and we were in a lobby. Sunlight extended in from a wide opening ahead.
Beyond this illumination was a swell of constant murmured sound.
The crowd.