"Come on, dice of fortune, give me a twenty."
I let it slip with a confidence that sounded far more like fantasy than reality.—I've guided dozens of heroes to defeat massive armies.
"In dozens of fictional worlds," I forgot to add.
Paul and Geronimo exchanged confused looks, then immediately began to mutter.
—Hell, like Julius Caesar? —Paul said.—Ah… I see —Geronimo replied, bowing slightly—. A born leader. Well, that explains the lack of physical skill; your brilliance must lie in command.
Paul nodded, carefully swinging his axe.
—If you can coordinate your allies in real combat… maybe you'll have a chance, kid.
—In fact —Geronimo added—, let's do a test. Guide me; I'll do everything you tell me to defeat this old buffalo.
—What? —was the only thing that came out of my mouth.
"Shit, what have I gotten myself into?"
Without a doubt, this was the worst possible situation.
In front of me, Paul and Geronimo had positioned themselves at opposite ends of the quadrilateral, barely enclosed by rusty bars that screeched every time the wind passed through. It was one of hundreds of training areas, but to me it looked more like an execution arena.
"Great idea, Tristan! Of course you're a brilliant general… in Ivalice or Hyrule."
My hands were sweating as I read the fluorescent screen in front of me: [Search I].
"Damn fate die, it had to roll a twenty—against me!"
How the hell did I come up with such an excuse? Worse still, it had worked, and now, with my heart in my throat, I had to prove my so-called "skills."
Paul spun his axe with impressive ease. The metallic gleam threatened to split anything it touched in two. Geronimo, on the other hand, remained on guard, knife in hand, eyes locked on his opponent.
—Come on, kid, don't disappoint me —Paul mocked.
"Alright, Tristan, let's calm down."
I still couldn't understand how we went from being enemies to me having to guide a practice fight—and guiding the bastard who had stabbed me.
—Young man, focus —Geronimo said without turning around—. Don't worry, no one will get hurt if you fail. I'll do whatever you order; I just want you to trust the system.
"Didn't you mean trust the system, Luke?"
There was no other option. In for a penny, in for a pound. Placing my hand on the HUD, I shouted at the top of my lungs:
—S–Search I!
Immediately, the translucent screen expanded before me, floating at face level. A board instantly formed, outlining the dimensions of the quadrilateral, and on it, three tokens appeared: two white ones glowing light blue, and one black glowing magenta.
"White team and black team."
The thought crossed my mind. Small labels hovered over the tokens:
[White: Geronimo – Steel Rank][Black: Paul Bunyan – Silver Rank]
"A Silver Rank and a Steel Rank… that explains the beating we took. This system isn't balanced at all."
Exploring the new interface quickly, I realized I could select the tokens. I tapped Geronimo's, opening a new pop-up screen displaying what looked like his stats.
His name appeared alongside two five-pointed stars.
The larger star was divided into five segments, all covered by question marks. At the center, a blinking number stood out: a large "6."
"So Geronimo is level 6."
The second star was more traditional—five points, each representing a stat—but once again, there was no real data:
[ATK | ?]
[DEF | ?]
[SPD | ?]
[PRE | ?]
[STAR | ?]
The discovery of my brand-new ability was becoming extremely disappointing. The information was minimal: only player positions and level. I couldn't even be sure whether the names appeared because I already knew them or because the system was revealing my opponents' identities.
—Is that it? —I murmured.
—What did you say? —Paul growled, advancing with his axe ready.
—N–Nothing! —I replied quickly.
"Damn it, is this really the best that stupid 'gift' can give me?"
Frustrated, I slammed the screen, leaving my palm pressed against the small interactive map. Suddenly, it felt as if an electric shock ran through my body. An avalanche of impossible calculations burst before my eyes: vectors measuring trajectories, vertices forming angles, projections of force and speed. They were so fast and complex I could barely retain them, yet somehow I felt I understood them on an instinctive level.
Paul roared and announced:
—I'm attacking!
—Young man, your orders! —Geronimo barked eagerly.
After a moment, my mind processed the information, and calmly, before me, a projection formed—as if it were a vector model of Paul—showing him advancing and swinging a strike toward Geronimo's right. I shouted:
—Right! He'll attack from your right!
Paul raised an eyebrow, surprised, as he carried out the swing. Geronimo obeyed my nervous command instantly and dodged the blow. The blade whistled just centimeters from his face, slicing off a few strands of the Apache's long black hair.
—Don't attack! —the system screamed at me in its own way; a counterattack was coming.
The Apache halted, confused but obedient, leaping backward. Paul had used the momentum of his first strike to spin and unleash a devastating counter that slammed into the arena floor instead.
Paul stopped, watching the Apache stand tall before him. His expression was a mix of surprise and amusement.
—Well, well… —he laughed, resting the axe on the ground—. Looks like you're not as useless as we thought, kid.
The great mountaineer turned his back on a confused Geronimo.
—I propose one last game. —I couldn't help but swallow hard at that—. If you can guess where my axe will land… I'll surrender.
—What? —I blurted out in disbelief.
Paul didn't answer. With a wide grin, he grabbed the axe with both hands and hurled it into the sky.
The weapon spun in a spiral, rising like a black star drawing closer by the second. The system exploded inside my mind: calculations, trajectories, a thousand possible outcomes. The screen collapsed into a storm of vectors that, after intense analysis, overlapped…
A splitting headache seized me, forcing me to stagger back two steps.
—Shit…! —I muttered as I fell to the ground.
Then the axe struck the ground exactly where I had been standing moments before. The earth cracked, dust and sparks erupting into the air.
Paul, more surprised than ever, grabbed my arm and, with a satisfied smile, slapped my back, snapping me out of my trance.
—Impressive, kid. You've convinced me.
Geronimo nodded, equally surprised.
—If you can guide your team with that ability, you'll be an ideal asset for the games —he concluded, sheathing his knife.
That was when, as always and without warning, Axio appeared floating nearby, more sarcastic than ever.
—"Games"? —he repeated, savoring the word—. Someone wants to challenge Aries again.