The Arena
"NEXT MATCH!" Larry's voice had recovered fully. "JAVAR VERSUS CALLUM MCGEE! FORMER TEAMMATES! THE FIRST OF MANY SUCH MATCHUPS IN THIS TOURNAMENT!"
The crowd murmured. Teammates fighting teammates. Friends becoming opponents. The reality of the tournament structure hitting home.
The horn rang.
Javar immediately took flight. His wings spread wide, blue and gold feathers catching the light. He soared upward, circling.
His aerial movement was BEAUTIFUL. Fluid. Natural. He didn't just fly. He danced in the air. Banking. Rolling. Changing direction with minimal effort.
Hanna had been impressive. But this? This was MASTERY.
McGee raised his rifle. Tracked. Fired.
Javar rolled left. The shot missed.
Another shot. Javar twisted. Missed again.
"We never really sparred much, did we?" Javar called down, grinning. "This gonna be FUN, mon!"
McGee's expression didn't change. But a small smile touched his lips. "Agreed."
His brown Resonance aura flared. Coated his arms. His eyes. His rifle.
Then he started firing.
FAST.
Not single shots. Not bursts.
A STREAM of plasma bolts. Like a machine gun. Sustained fire that filled the air with deadly light.
Javar's eyes widened. "BLOODCLAAT!"
He dove. Weaved. Twisted through the air. But the shots were EVERYWHERE. McGee wasn't aiming at where Javar was. He was aiming at where Javar WOULD BE.
"This is INCREDIBLE!" Larry was on his feet. "McGee's Resonance-enhanced firing rate is INSANE! And Javar's aerial mobility is keeping him alive!"
Jango nodded. "McGee knows Javar's flight patterns. They trained together. He's predictin' every move."
Fighter Viewing Area
C'luppo and Miki watched intently.
"Come on, bird boy," C'luppo muttered, his skin shifting anxious colors.
Miki said nothing. Just watched. Analyzed.
The Arena
Javar feinted right. Then dove left hard. Closing distance. Getting within striking range.
McGee was READY.
He dropped his rifle. Let it hang by the strap.
As Javar descended, talons extended, McGee JUMPED.
His knee came UP.
Connected with Javar's skull.
The CRACK echoed across the arena.
Javar's head snapped back. His flight pattern broke. He spiraled downward, crashing into the sand.
The crowd GASPED.
McGee landed smoothly. His hands moved with zero wasted motion. Reload. Chamber. Ready.
Javar tried to stand. McGee fired.
Hit his shoulder. His leg. His chest. Point-blank range.
Javar went down again.
"THIS COULD BE IT!" Larry screamed. "MCGEE'S DOMINATING! JAVAR'S DOWN!"
McGee approached. Rifle aimed at Javar's head.
Javar lay there. Bleeding. Breathing hard.
Is this it? Is this how it ends?
Then he saw it. A flash of memory.
Little Javar. Four years old. Cold. Alone. Hungry.
The couple walking away. "We can't take on the added baggage."
Baggage. That's what he was. Unwanted. Disposable.
Then. A couch. Action figures. A blonde idiot with the worst Jamaican accent imaginable.
"If you need anything. Anything at all. You can count on me."
Juli. His best friend. His brother.
Javar's eyes SNAPPED open.
Not yet. I can't go out yet. Not when I finally found someone who wanted me.
McGee fired.
Javar MOVED. Tanked the shot to his arm. Pain exploded. He didn't care.
His wings BURST with power. He shot upward faster than before. Faster than McGee could track.
The crowd went INSANE.
"HE'S STILL IN IT!"
"JAVAR'S NOT DONE!"
"LOOK AT HIM GO!"
Javar climbed. Higher. Higher. His body screaming in pain. Blood streaming from multiple wounds.
But his eyes burned with determination.
McGee tracked. Fired. Missed.
Javar DOVE.
Full speed. Talons extended. Fists ready.
McGee tried to adjust his aim.
Too late.
Javar's talons raked across McGee's chest. His fist connected with McGee's jaw. His leg came around in a spinning kick that caught McGee's temple.
The combination was BRUTAL. NASTY. Pure desperation turned into raw power.
McGee's eyes rolled back. His rifle fell. His body followed.
WINNER: JAVAR.
The arena EXPLODED.
"WHAT HEART!"
"WHAT GUTS!"
"HE CAME BACK FROM THE BRINK!"
"INCREDIBLE!"
Larry was CRYING. "THAT! THAT IS THE SPIRIT OF A WARRIOR! REFUSING TO QUIT! REFUSING TO FALL! JAVAR ADVANCES!"
Jango was grinning wide. "Kid's got somethin' special. Ain't just skill. That's HEART right there."
Fighter Viewing Area
C'luppo was JUMPING. "YES! THAT'S ME BOY! THAT'S ME TEAMMATE!"
Miki smiled. Actually smiled. Small but genuine.
VIP Box
Goldberg was on his feet. All three arms raised. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! PASSION! HEART! REFUSING TO SURRENDER!"
Even the composed captains were impressed.
Sparta nodded approvingly. "The bird warrior showed great courage. To rise when defeat seemed certain. Admirable."
Fang whistled. "Pops trained that McGee kid well, but sometimes guts beat technique."
The Arena
Medical personnel rushed to both fighters. McGee was unconscious but stable. Javar stood, barely, his wings drooping. But he was SMILING.
He looked up at the sky. Thought of Juli. Thought of their stupid conversations about action figures and magazines.
I did it, blonde yout'. I ain't givin' up that easy.
Next Match
"MIKI HAYES VERSUS PAMELA VORS KIEL!"
The horn rang.
Miki had strategies. Multiple weapons. Traps prepared.
It didn't matter.
Pam was a HURRICANE.
Her pink Resonance aura coated her entire body. Her battleaxe gleamed with that fluorescent green energy.
She MOVED.
Miki tried to create distance. Threw smoke bombs. Caltrops. Anything to slow her down.
Pam's enhanced senses rendered them useless. She tracked by sound. By air displacement. By the minute vibrations in the ground.
Her axe came down. Miki blocked with her blade.
The force sent Miki FLYING backward.
Pam was already there. Another strike. Miki barely parried.
Again. Again. AGAIN.
The barrage was RELENTLESS. Each strike amplified by Resonance. Each one faster than the last.
Miki's defense crumbled. Her blade flew from her hands.
Pam's axe stopped an inch from Miki's throat.
Surrender. No words needed.
WINNER: PAMELA VORS KIEL.
The crowd applauded. Respectful. It had been quick but impressive.
VIP Box
Louis Vors Kiel sat perfectly still. His empty silver eyes watched his daughter. No expression. No reaction.
Goldberg leaned over. "Hey Louis! That's your kid, right? Pretty impressive, eh?"
Nothing.
Seraphina tried. "Captain Vors Kiel, surely thou must feel pride..."
Nothing.
Bianca smiled slightly. "Your daughter's technique is excellent. You trained her well."
Nothing.
Olivier adjusted his goggles. "Ze girl, she 'as your discipline, non?"
Nothing.
Fang removed his sunglasses. "Come on, man. Give us SOMETHIN'."
Louis's empty eyes flicked toward them for a fraction of a second. Then back to the arena. Silent as death.
Goldberg threw up all three arms. "THIS GUY! I GIVE UP!"
Andre shook his head. "He's impossible."
Sparta rumbled with amusement. "Mayhaps he speaks only through action, not words."
Saya nodded. "The way of the silent warrior. I respect it."
"You're all just enabling his weirdness!" Goldberg complained.
Louis said nothing.
But deep in those hollow silver eyes, as he watched his daughter stand victorious, something flickered. Just for a moment.
Pride? Regret? Love?
Then it was gone. Buried beneath layers of ice and discipline.
Pam walked off the arena floor. She didn't look up at the VIP box. Didn't seek his approval.
She didn't need it.
Not anymore.