Summus Proelium

A couple days. I had left Detroit behind for a couple days, and now what? Some completely new, unknown Fells (ones with some serious power behind them, apparently) had attacked the place, trying to get some sort of confiscated Touched-Tech (the news I was able to read on my phone right then was a bit vague on the exact details, understandably). The Minority, at least the ones who weren't literally my sister and on this trip right now, had been sent out to stop them because all the adult Stars were being occupied by other problems. They had gone out to fight and-- and what? I didn't know. The news was frustratingly vague on what happened, just that it hadn't been easy and there were complications. More details would be given at a press conference later tonight. But I didn't want to know what was going on later, I wanted to know right now!

It also occurred to me that both Dani and Izzy must have known that something was going on back there when they talked to me earlier, but they hadn't said anything. Which, yeah, yeah, I knew that was because they didn't want me to be even more stressed than I already had been (whoops), but still, I had to fight back the quick rush of anger that tried to swell up in me with that thought. No, I wasn't mad at them, I knew why they hadn't told me about it, especially after they saw me in that state. I just… I was angry and frustrated in general. I was emotionally exhausted.

And it wasn't about to get better anytime soon. I couldn't focus on what was going on back home, because I was about to go out on that field to run through another of these games. If this had been any normal situation, I absolutely would've bowed out until I could make sure Amber and the others were okay. But I couldn't do that now because Casura was insisting that I play these games, and if I didn't play along-- fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this whole thing was fucked up!

It didn't matter, my feelings about the whole thing were moot. It wasn't like I could just refuse to participate. And even if I did, it wasn't like I could just get back to Detroit in time to help at all. I was stuck here for so many reasons. I had to keep playing these games and just… just wait for some actual information to come back. Either from the official sources, or from Amber herself, as I immediately sent her a quick text asking what was going on and if she was okay. That was followed by a group text to the rest of my team to find out if they knew anything about all that. I thought about calling, but, well, I couldn't exactly do that in front of everyone here. And if I tried to leave again right after being a bit late getting here in the first place, they'd have questions.

Which, speaking of 'everyone here,' it was only after sending those texts (my fingers were moving so quickly over my phone it was a wonder I didn't set either it or the fingers themselves on fire) that I finally looked up and took in who exactly I was going to be competing against in this match. There were four of them, each staring at me uncertainly after seeing me come in, look at my phone, then scream 'fuck' and spend the next few seconds furiously tapping away at it. Also I was pretty sure I'd been angrily muttering even more curse words throughout that whole time.

The first thing that struck me as I took in the assorted faces staring my way was that there was a side effect of having spent so long reading through all those records of the contestants while I'd been trying in vain to figure out what the hell Casura was really up to. Namely, I knew who all these people were at a glance. I'd read all their files, stared at their pictures, studied them so much that I could recite their names and powers off the top of my head the instant I saw them.

First up, standing next to the table in the middle of the room and sort of leaning against the edge of it was a distinctly avian-humanoid figure. They had dark blue feathers all over their body, a very bird-like face with a short, sharp beak and everything, and both a pair of wings coming out of their back along with separate arms where they should be. They wore no shirt or anything else on their torso, just a pair of loose black pants. Their feet were shaped like a human's, but looked hard and somewhat black like a bird's talons. Those wings were also mostly blue like the rest of their feathers, but with rather pretty black markings along the edges and across the tips.

This was Pascenic, a combination of the words Passerine (types of birds) and scenic. They were one of those Joined Touched, like Qwerty. Only instead of being a parrot and a squirrel, they were the fused result of a human female and a male bird. Specifically an Indigo Bunting. They maintained two separate minds, controlling their body together. Pascenic had all the powers you might expect from a bird-person, including heightened agility and reflexes, really good eyesight, and yeah, the ability to fly. But they could also make trilling, pretty birdsong noises, and anyone who heard the song would start to see the images Passerine was imagining while singing. Mostly scenery and background type changes. From what I'd read, it wasn't really the sort of illusion that could fool you into thinking it was a real thing, since you were hearing the song the whole time and knew what was happening. But in a situation like this, where those illusions could change what the obstacles looked like or where opponents seemed to be, it could be big.

A few feet away from Pascenic was an unnaturally tall and very heavyset man standing with his arms folded over his chest. The guy was practically a giant, reaching just over eight and a half feet in height and almost as big around. Yeah, he was huge, and wore what looked like high-tech green and gold metal armor over that enormous body. Which included an almost featureless green metal helmet that just had a simple gold W where his face would be. W for Wrecker, the name this guy went by. Apparently he was very strong, almost completely impossible to stop once he got moving, was far faster and more agile than one might expect given his size and all that, and was capable of both mentally controlling and softening or hardening any metal that was within about six inches of his body. Which included bullets, knives, or anything like that.

On the other side of the room, by the doorway leading into the tunnel that would take us out to the field, was what looked like a little boy only slightly older than I was supposed to be in my Paintball persona. He looked like he was maybe thirteen-ish, just based on his size and whatnot. The boy wore a kind of stereotypical superhero costume consisting of a gold one-piece bodysuit, white boots, an actual white cape with gold trim, and a white mask that covered the top half of his face along with his hair. Only his mouth and chin were left exposed.

This was Turbow. Yes, with the W. He might've been young, but he'd Touched back when he was like, seven or something, so he'd been doing this for a long time. According to the file I'd looked through, his power allowed him to summon this energy bow along with arrows for it. He was a really good shot with those arrows, as long as they were flying through the air he could move as fast as they were, and he could instantly transport himself to anything the arrows hit. Apparently he often used that speed boost he got when loosing one arrow to send off a lot more. Or he could even pass that enhanced speed off to someone else by touching them.

Finally, there was a woman who was just about in her mid-twenties or so. She was only maybe five inches taller than me, but much more visibly muscular. She had truly impressive, very well-defined biceps. They probably would've been easy to see no matter what she wore, but the fact that she didn't have any sleeves made that even more so. Her costume consisted of a black tee-shirt with frayed remains where those sleeves had been ripped off, an old gray jean vest with a bunch of anarchy and Pride patches all over it, and gleaming blue metal prosthetic legs.

This was Frey, a very… unusual Tech-Touched whose specialty lay in fixing or improving her own body through a combination of technology and biology. Basically, she could design and build improvements to her body, then she just touched the object and it would melt down into this ooze stuff that she drank. After drinking the ooze, the body part it was meant to replace would just disappear and the tech version would be there. It specifically only worked for her. She'd tried sharing her prosthetic-creating ooze with others and nothing seemed to happen.

Frey had been an amputee who designed and built her own new legs, but also replaced all of her internal organs with much more efficient, better cybernetic versions, changed out her bones with new ones that were made of some sort of super unbreakable material, upgraded her eyes, all of it. Even her skin was all but invulnerable. She was one of those public Touched who didn't wear a mask or conceal her identity at all. Her real name was Becka Frey, and her main job was helping design new prosthetics for others, mostly kids and teens. They didn't work as well as her personal improvements (and definitely weren't anywhere near as convenient to install), but still.

So these were my opponents for the next match. Pascenic, Wrecker, Turbow, and Frey. And they had all just seen me, uh, not at my best. Taking in the sight of the four staring at me, I winced. My first instinct was to make up some sort of story, before realizing I didn't actually have to. What was going on back in Detroit wasn't part of the Casura thing, and it made perfect sense for me to be upset about it. Huh, not having to lie or hold back right now was a weird feeling.

Giving an inward mental shrug and doing my level best to ignore the profoundly unhelpful voice that was screaming inside my head about how much danger Paige and the others were in right now, I apologized for the outburst and explained what was going on back home. At least as much as I understood. I also explained that I'd just seen the news about it when I came in.

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"And here I thought it was something I said!" The booming, jovial voice came from Wrecker, as the big guy gave a quick thumbs up. "But hey, no apologies needed, buddy. From what I hear, you've more than earned the right to have a little outburst now and then. I think our ears can take a few scandalous words. Except maybe the precious little bundle of innocence over there."

"Hey, go fuck yourself, dude," Turbow retorted, though there wasn't any actual anger behind either the words or the middle finger he raised that way. "My dad does construction work and my mom runs a fancy restaurant kitchen. Which, I gotta say, more cursing there than at the construction site. I heard worse language than that before I ever Touched."

Pascenic, the Joined bird-human, gave a musical, trilling laugh before quickly putting in with a somewhat masculine voice, "If you lot think humans say some naughty things, you should hear what a magpie will call you if you try to get anywhere near one of their shinies. Utterly filthy beaks, the lot of 'em. Dirty enough to make any of those constructors or kitcheners blush."

They paused briefly, before a slightly more feminine voice corrected, "Ah, we mean construction workers and chefs, sorry. My partner's still a little unsure on the whole using specific words bit."

"Pah!" the masculine voice retorted, "if the point is made and it's knowable, what actual difference does it make? You humaners worry too much about exact words and grammers instead of real problems."

Frey offered a quick, "If my fiance heard you say something like that, she'd either faint, or drag you into her classroom for an English lesson or ten. Or both. Come to think of it, definitely both." To me, she added, "They're right though, don't worry about all that. The outburst, I mean. And don't worry about being late either, they're still finishing up the acts out there. We've got plenty of time, it's just the geeks behind all this getting jittery any time the next round of contestants aren't a hundred percent ready half an hour ahead of time. Here, eat something, you look like you're about to fall over."

Forcing all my conflicting emotional thoughts down into the hole where they belonged right now, I painted a smiley face on the front of my visor (boy was my face being constantly hidden useful for hiding how I was really feeling or what) and replied as casually as possible, "Thanks, glad to know I wasn't making the worst first impression possible by forcing all of you to wait on me."

"I can think of a few worse first impressions than that," Wrecker pointed out, his voice a rumble that practically seemed to echo through the room even though he was just talking normally. "So don't even give it another thought. Actually, you might not have time to think about it at all." He added that bit while turning toward the television nearby. "Because if they know you're here--"

Sure enough, no sooner had he gotten that far than the view on the TV switched to show Nqobile once more. And oh boy, if it was difficult for me to shove down my emotions before, seeing that woman made it all so much worse. I barely stopped myself from growling, hiding my reaction behind a slight cough. It was okay, she had to be here, had to keep playing her part just like I was playing mine. As long as Casura was out there holding a metaphorical gun to the heads of people I cared about, we had to keep the games going the way they were supposed to.

"Welcome back for the next game, contestants!" Nqobile cheerfully greeted us. You wouldn't know by looking at or listening to her what sort of pressure she was under, and she didn't even have a mask to hide behind. Well, not a physical one, anyway. If I hadn't already known better, I would've thought the woman didn't have a real care in the world beyond making sure she didn't end up mispronouncing the names of contestants, and explained the rules of the match properly.

All five of us listened as she launched into an explanation of this next game. Which was quite a bit different than the first one I'd been through. In this, there were five huge balls, taller than I was. The balls each had one of our pictures and names on them. Spread out along the walls of the arena, equidistant apart from one another, were very slightly raised circular platforms with small ramps leading up to them. The platforms were just large enough to hold one of the balls. There was one platform for each of us, with our names and holographic images floating above.

The goal of the game was to get one of the opponent's balls onto our own platform. Every time one of the balls settled properly into place, we would earn points and then the ball would vanish from the platform and reappear back in the middle of the arena, starting that process over again.

The thing was, we'd earn five points for the first ball we got onto our platform. If we did the same ball again, it would be another five points. But if we did one of the other balls, it would be ten points. And after that, if we did a third contestant's ball, it would be twenty points. Then forty for the last contestant (we didn't earn any points for our own ball), eighty if we went back to the first, and so on. The multiplier would reset if we went out of order, redoing the same ball too soon.

And, of course, it wouldn't be as easy as me just painting one of the balls red and yanking it straight onto the platform. I would've had far too much of an advantage then, and the people behind the games were smarter than that. Instead, every ball was some sort of special Touched-Tech thing that would only move if you had your physical hands on it and were pushing it along. Powers wouldn't move it, the ball couldn't be teleported, yanked around with paint, or anything like that. The only way to make them go was by physically rolling them with your hands, and even then it would only move at a certain pace. They wouldn't even leave the ground once that little device inside them was activated.

Oh yeah, and then there were two more complications. First, various obstacles, ramps, walls, and so on would appear and shift around randomly to make everything even more difficult. And second, if we personally stood on top of another player's platform for five seconds, every second after that would start draining points from them to give to us. The other player would be given an audible warning that someone was standing on their platform as well as a notification about losing points. So you had to keep people off your platform while moving the balls around, defend your own ball if possible, and do all of it as obstacles popped up and shifted around the field.

In that first game, winning a match was worth two LEAT points while coming in second was worth one. In this case, it was three LEAT points for first, two for second, one for third, and none for fourth and fifth. But on the other hand, there would only be one round to this game rather than three. Given you needed ten LEAT points by the end of the week to get a sapphire ring, fifteen for an emerald, and twenty for a ruby, getting three here would be pretty damn useful if I really wanted to get out on the field for the awards presentation on Saturday. Right now I had four. If I could get seven by the end of the first day, maybe I wouldn't be quite as stressed.

Haha, wasn't that a hilarious thought. As if getting a couple extra points here would so much as make the needle of my stress-o-meter flicker slightly. This was nothing. Paige, Sierra, Irelyn, and Echo were still out there, still in that monster's grasp. Yeah, being able to get out on that field if this whole situation went that far would be nice, but if it did, that would mean I'd already totally screwed up every other chance to put a stop to it. So no, the thought wasn't exactly comforting.

Still, I had to do the best I could, and if this did go that far, I absolutely needed to be out on that field. So, I shoved down all those unhelpful thoughts and offered a shrug toward my opponents. "Makes sense to me. You guys ready to go punt some balls around the field?" I was doing my level best to sound as casual as possible about the whole thing, hoping that any stress they heard would just be chalked up to nerves about the match. With everything that was going on, I seriously did not need to deal with anyone realizing something was wrong and trying to help. The thought of what Casura would do if she thought one of these people was interfering or getting too close to things was-- well, it definitely made the stress in my voice more audible.

Of all people, it was Turbow who reached out to pat my back reassuringly, offering a cheerful, "Hey, don't worry about it, man, you're kicking ass around here so far. Just uh, be ready to kick a little less ass in this game. I'll try to let you come in second. A very distant second."

"Maybe third," the feminine (so human) voice of Pascenic put in, wings shaking out a bit as they winked at me. "The boy over there can have second."

The male (bird) voice agreed, "Yes, yes, the two of us promised our team that we would win, and you never want to let down your team."

That started a whole set of good natured ribbing back and forth as we left the ready room and began walking through that tunnel. I used that time to control my breathing and force all those distracting thoughts out of my head. I couldn't worry about the others right now. Casura would keep her side of the bargain and not hurt them as long as I stayed within her rules, right? As for Amber and the rest of the Minority, they would be okay too. I had to trust that they could take care of themselves. I had to believe they were fine. I had to believe all that, because if I didn't, I was going to fall apart completely. I was--

Wait.

Time seemed to slow down as I turned to stare at the group on the way out, the field looming ahead of us. But I didn't see it, I didn't hear the crowd getting louder as we stepped out into view. I didn't hear any of that.

Because while I might not have known exactly why Casura had chosen these games to make her move, or what her absolute endgame was, I did know who she was targeting. I knew who that bitch was going after. The name, the picture in those files I'd been looking at, popped right into my head with absolute crystal clarity. I knew who she wanted those rings for.

And if I could get to them first, I might finally have some sort of advantage.