Adrien laughed hysterically. "You? In a Cybrawl? Ha! You can't be serious."
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Gabriel slapped him but didn't refute his point.
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I crossed my arms defiantly. "I am serious. Sometimes, Cybrawls have celebrity guests, right? I could be your guest today!"
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Adrien scoffed. "It's going to be a short match."
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Gabriel stroked his chin. "Celebrity guests do bring in excellent ratings."
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"You can't seriously be considering this?" Adrien spluttered.
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"I'm considering all my options," Gabriel said, glancing out the large window that overlooked the arena.
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Atlas gave me a firm shove. "Are you out of your damn mind? Back out now while you still have the chance!"
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"One of us has to get the map. Did you forget why we came here?" I said.
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Atlas scowled at me. "The cyborg you're going to be fighting against is dangerous."
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I threw up my hands in frustration. "Do you think we should just give up and go home?"
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Atlas stared down at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. "I don't know."
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"Well, I'm going out there, like it or not!" Why was Atlas freaking out about this? I've seen Cybrawls on TV before, it's obviously fake. They're all just actors pretending to fight. How dangerous could a fake fight be? Atlas has no right to be upset; it was his idea to come here in the first place.
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"I've made up my mind," Gabriel said. "I'll allow Chase to fight in Atlas' place in the Cybrawl."
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Adrien rolled his eyes.
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I pumped my fist in the air. "I won't let you down, sir!
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A wary smile spread across Gabriel's lips. "I hope you're right."
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Atlas had an expression of absolute dread. What, he doesn't think I can handle a fake fight?
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"Adrien, can you please escort Mister Huxley to the locker room, so he can prepare for the fight?" Gabriel requested.
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"Why me?" Adrien whined.
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"Because I'd like to have a private conversation with Atlas."
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Adrien groaned. "Fine!" He marched towards the elevator and beckoned for me to follow. "Let's get this over with, loser."
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Rude. I followed him into the elevator and caught a glimpse of Atlas' somber expression as the doors closed. My stomach began to churn. I should've asked more questions before agreeing to do this.
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The elevator let us off on the lowest floor. Adrien pointed me towards the first door on the left. We stepped foot into an empty locker room. The surrounding air reeked of a mix of bleach, sweat, and blood. A thick layer of dirt coated the floors, and clung to the bottoms of my shoes. Delightful.
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I surveyed the room for any sign of life. "Where is everyone?"
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"All the other fighters are already prepared for their fights. As you know, today is a very special day and everything must be in order."
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I racked my brain, trying to remember what day it was, but I came up blank. "What's so special about today?"
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"Today's the thirtieth anniversary of the Cybrawl; everyone knows that, Chase." Adrien snapped.
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"Sorry," I muttered.
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"You're hopeless. I'm rooting against you in today's fight."
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I quirked an eyebrow. "Are commentators allowed to be biased?"
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"I do what I want," Adrien replied.
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My eyes wandered to a poster plastered on the wall. It prominently displayed several well-known Cybrawl fighters. I pointed to a buff fighter in a skull mask. "Is that the guy I'm going to fight against."
429Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFyHaKUZARv
Adrien admired the poster and gave a firm nod. "You know, Vindicator is a fighter I can get behind. He understands the true meaning of the Cybrawl."
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"Bloodshed?" I recalled from earlier.
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Adrien shot me a satisfied smile. "Maybe, you're not as hopeless as I thought." He began to walk towards the elevator.
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"Wait! Where are you going?" I ran after him.
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He shrugged. "My job here is done."
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"But you didn't do anything!" I protested.
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He adjusted his glasses. "What? Did you expect me to hold your hand the whole time?"
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"Do I get a script or something?"
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"What?"
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"I'm an amazing actor. I starred in a Hallmark Holofilm called A Christmas Darryl, It was about a hotshot billionaire named Darryl who got stranded in a small town and–"
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Adrien clamped a hand over my mouth. "I don't care." He continued his journey to the elevator.
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"Are you at least going to tell me who's supposed to win the fight?"
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He laughed as the elevator doors shut. "That's not how it works here." Just like that, he was gone. I was seized by a sense of dread. I sense I've made a mistake of some kind.
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I plopped down on the cold floor, defeated.
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A loud chime sounded from the elevator. The doors slid open and Atlas stepped out, with a lit cigarette in his mouth. The dark circles beneath his eyes had significantly darkened. "I begged Gabriel to let you back out of the fight, but he refused."
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I stood to my feet. "You shouldn't be smoking inside. It could start a fire."
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Atlas blew a cloud of cotton candy-flavored smoke in my face. "Good, I hope the whole stadium burns down."
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"That's harsh." I let out a loud cough, as I attempted to clear the smoke from my lungs.
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He sighed. "I know, I'm just angry right now."
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I forced a smile. "It's okay, I'll just ask Vindicator to go easy on me."
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"That's not how Cybrawls work on Ikigai II." Atlas doused his cigarette in the grimy water fountain, putting it out.
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I threw up my hands in frustration. "Well, is someone gonna explain how Cybrawls work on Ikigai II?
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Atlas refused to make eye contact, as he broke me the news. "The fights aren't scripted here."
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"What?"
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"All the fights on Ikigai II are real." He frowned. "All of the violence and brutality you see on TV is real here."
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I gaped at him. "How is this legal?"
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It's like I told you before, no one cares about cyborgs. As long as the stadiums pay taxes, the government doesn't care if cyborgs kill each other for sport. Why would they?"
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"Because it's wrong."
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He let out a sharp exhale that resembled a humorless laugh. "Humans believe cyborgs exist to die, either on the battlefield or in a stadium for their entertainment. This is why Gabriel and I had a falling out. He's complicit in the exploitation of cyborgs, even though he is one."
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I gave an understanding nod.
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Atlas reached into his pockets and pulled out two gleaming ruby-colored knives. He extended them towards me and motioned for me to take them.
429Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZHkFsPLibk
I gladly accepted his bestowal. "These things are badass!"
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"I want you to take them into your fight today."
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I eyed the knives suspiciously. "Is that allowed?"
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"Everything is allowed in an Ikegai Brawl." Atlas signed, without a smidge of sarcasm.
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That isn't comforting, Vindicator is going to kill me, or worse, damage my face even further! My breath began to quicken.
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Atlas must've sensed my distress because he signed, "Vindicator is dangerous, but I've beaten fighters larger than him, and you can too."
429Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNm9XSAlUlM
I glanced over at the poster of Vindicator swinging a battleaxe over his head, then I glanced down at the knives in my hands. My stomach lurched with anxiety. "Are you sure about that?"
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Atlas gave a confident nod. "Fighters like him are all about showmanship. They always choose the largest weapon they can find, regardless of whether they know how to wield it. My knives are sharp and reliable; they can easily gut an opponent."
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"Are you speaking from experience?"
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He refused to make eye contact. "I made my very first kill with those knives."
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"I thought you only killed people with the code."
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"Not the first time I killed. There's a reason Bionic Corp chose me over all the others to be their killer; it's because I'd done it before."
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I shot him a look of bewilderment.
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He grimaced. "I'll tell you all about it if you survive today's brawl."
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I twirled the knives around in my hands. "That seems unlikely." I said, accepting my fate. My grasp slipped and I accidentally sliced my thumb. I dropped the knife, and it clattered to the ground. "See."
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"You're going to win because I'm going to coach you."
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I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Doesn't the fight start in ten minutes?" I glanced down at my Holowatch to confirm.
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He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "That's plenty of time. Now, show me your fighting stance!"
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I faltered. "What's a fighting stance?"
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Atlas shook his head in disbelief. "You don't know anything about fighting, do you?"
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"Of course not. I'm a fashion model! Why the hell would I need to know how to fight?"
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"Fair enough." Atlas pulled me by the wrists into the center of the locker room. "I'm going to show you how to do a fighting stance." He nudged my feet apart and adjusted my elbows into place. "Now point your blades at me."
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"Am I doing it right?"
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Atlas scrutinized my posture. "Bend your knees more."
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I did as I was told.
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He eyed me up and down. "Much better."
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I smirked, satisfied by Atlas's approval. I stayed in the exact same position, not daring to move a muscle, even though an itch was forming on my right shoulder. "Now what?"
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"The objective of a Cybrawl is to render your opponent immobile. Since you have no fighting experience, your best strategy is to focus on blocking and dodging. Only strike when you have a clear shot."
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I nodded, trying to keep a mental note of all of his advice.
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"When you slash, use the force of your whole body. Like this," Atlas mimicked the motion of swinging the knives. "Let's practice what you've learned."
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I narrowed my focus completely on Atlas. "I'm ready."
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Before I had time to react, Atlas lunged towards me, twisted my wrists backwards, forcing me to drop the knives, then kneed me in the stomach, causing me to tumble to the ground. "What the hell, man?"
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A disappointed expression spread across his face. "You were supposed to block me." He offered his hand to help me up.
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I didn't protest this time. I greatfully accepted his assistance.
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Atlas squared up for a fight. "Now, try to hit me. you have my permission."
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I gavea firm nod.
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During our remaining time before the fight, we practiced sparring. After every one of Atlas's strikes, I got a little better at dodging his attacks, and after a while, I even managed to get a few blows in.
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When it was time for the fight to begin, someone came to escort me to the center of the stadium, where the brawl would be held.
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"Remember to aim for the tendons." Atlas advised.
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I tried to recall my high school biology class. "Where are the tendons located again?"
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Atlas rubbed the bridge of his nose, exasperated.
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I feel bad for him. He tried his best to teach me to fight. It's not his fault that I'm a walking disaster.
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He placed a hand on the side of my face and hooked up to my cybernetics. He downloaded several fighting tutorials into my brain. "Here, these should help."
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I'd forgotten that was something I could do. "Why didn't you do that sooner?" I asked Atlas.
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He smirked. "Because it was funny, watching you fall down repeatedly."
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I directed an obscene hand gesture at him, but there was no real animosity behind it. Overall, I was more thankful for his help than anything else.
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Without another word, I was dragged off. Before I even stepped foot into the arena, I could hear the screams of tens of thousands of Cybrawl fans awaiting an epic brawl. It was daunting, to say the least.
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"In our next fight, we have everyone's favorite newcomer, Vindicator!" Adrien announced, and the audience erupted into applause. "Versus today's celebrity guest, Chase Huxley!" I exited the backstage area and stepped out into the arena. The crowd was much less enthusiastic. Some audience members clapped politely, while others actively booed me.
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"Boo you guys!" I spat in the direction of my hecklers.
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The audience jeered louder in response.
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I took a moment to familiarize myself with my surroundings. Blindingly bright LED lights illuminated the entire stadium, which made it difficult to get my bearings. I stood on an elevated platform in the heart of the circular arena. Somehow, fresh grass grew out of the platform beneath us. Bleachers crowded with fans surrounded us on every side. Drones with cameras attached circled us. This entire fight was going to be televised.
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The entire world is going to see my face! In the past, that would've thrilled me, but now the very thought fills me with dread. Everyone is going to find out that I'm a cyborg. Everyone I know probably assumed I was dead. Maybe it was better that way.
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I angled the scarred half of my face away from the drones and faced my opponent instead. Vindicator stood firmly on the other side of the arena, patiently waiting for the fight to begin. He tilted his head to the side inquisitively. He appeared to be sizing me up.
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I did the same. I wonder how much of him is cybernetic. I knew it was a requirement for all Cybrawl Fighters to be at least 10% bionic, but Vindicator kept every inch of his body concealed behind thick leather armor, so I couldn't tell if he was cybernetic at all. I glanced around the arena for a referee, but there wasn't one. I pointed at my adversary. "Hey! Is he allowed to wear armor?" I shouted.
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"Everything is allowed in an Ikigai Cybrawl." Adrien replied dryly over the loudspeakers.
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Wow. Things keep getting worse for me.
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A loud horn blared and the crowd cheered.
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Vindicator charged toward me.
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I retreated to the edge of the platform.
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He took a swing at me with his battleaxe, but I dove out of the way.
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He grabbed me by the throat and dangled me over the edge.
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He definitely has cyborg strength.
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"I don't want to fight you, Chase." Vindicator said. He used a voice modulator, most likely to make his voice deeper and more menacing.
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"Then don't." I rasped. "I'll let you win. Okay?"
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He spun me away from the edge and threw me face-first onto the ground in front of him.
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I accidentally swallowed a mouthful of dirt and grass, as he rammed my face into the ground.
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"I don't want you! I want to fight Curseword!" He roared.
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Curseword? "Do you mean Atlas?"
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Vindicator stopped beating me for a moment. "Oh, is that the name he goes by now? When I knew him, he went by a different name." He let out a sigh that was almost wistful.
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"Do you two know each other?" I asked as I tried to rise to my feet.
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He kicked me in the gut with his steel toed boot, sending me crashing to the ground again. "Curseword and I go way back."
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A throbbing pain grabbed hold of my stomach and I began to cough up blood.
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Vindicator tried to kick me again, but this time I rolled out of the way, dodging his attack.
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Vindicator was stunned for a brief moment. He wasn't expecting me to elude him. Good. I like defying expectations.
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I sprung to my feet. I had no strategy, so I sprinted to the other end of the area in a zigzag motion. I hoped I could evade him long enough to come up with a plan.
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Vindicator's pounding footsteps sounded behind me as he approached. "I have no desire to harm you."
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I clutched my throbbing stomach. "You could've fooled me!"
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He raised his battleaxe over his head, preparing to swing. "Tell me, where Curseword is hiding!"
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I surveyed the bleachers for any sign of Atlas. Where the hell was he? Did he ditch me here? "I swear, I have no idea where he is!" With lightning speed, I reached into my pockets, equipped Atlas's knives, and prepared to defend myself.
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I was quick, but my adversary was faster. He assaulted me with his axe. Despite my best attempts to block it, the sharp edge sliced across my rib cage. A sharp pain tore through my body, causing me to shout. A rusty, metallic scent filled my nostrils. When I gazed down at my now blood-soaked shirt, I realized it was the smell of my own blood. My legs trembled, but this time I refused to fall.
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Vindicator snatched one of the drones out of the air and pointed the camera directly at me. "Poor little Chase Huxley. Look how the mighty has fallen." He traced the outlines of my burn scars with his finger. He was mocking me, the way a cat taunts a mouse before it eats it. "You're nothing without your pretty face."
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Those words hurt almost as much as the bleeding wound on my chest because he was right. I've never been smart or cool or particularly talented in any way, but I was born with a pretty face, and that was enough to get by. Now my only asset is gone. I'm not sure who I am without with it.
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"Come on, Curseword I know it hurts to watch your friend suffer. I bet it's tearing you apart." Vindicator chuckled.
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"What's so funny?" I asked, clutching the knives tighter.
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"You wouldn't get it." Vindicator waved a hand dismissively. "It's a little inside joke between me and Curseword." As he turned his head and scoured the audience for Atlas, I examined his armor. I may be stupid about most things, but I know all about clothing. If my hypothesis is correct, his armor should be thinner on his shoulders, elbows, and knees. If I play my cards right, I might be able to get the drop on him. While he was distracted, I silently crept towards him.
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When I was within stabbing distance, I raised my arm and plunged my knife into his shoulder blade.
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Before the knife made contact with his skin, he spun around and grabbed my wrist. "Did you seriously think that would work?" He twisted my arm, painfully, causing me to drop the knife in my right hand.
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Before he had time to realize what was happening, I drove my second knife into his knee, tearing his flesh. "Now, that's what I call misdirection!"
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He let out a faint wince in pain.
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I ripped the knife out of his leg, reclaiming it for myself.
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He clenched his jaw. "Not bad."
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"Thank you." I attempted to twirl the bloody knife around, like the badass hero in a Holofilm, but I accidentally sliced my pinky instead. Dammit. I hope Vindicator doesn't have any bloodborne diseases.
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He lunged towards me, and prepared to swing. Before he could reach me, he let out a pained gasp and hunched over. There was a knife buried deep into his shoulder.
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I gazed up to see Atlas standing behind him, with a satisfied smirk on his face.
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"Atlas! You came back for me!"
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"What? Did you think I was going to leave you here." Atlas signed, then tore the knife free from Vindicator's shoulder. "Do you want to team up to beat this scumbag?"
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"Is that allowed?" I asked.
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Atlas' eyes lit up with mischief. "Everything is allowed in an Ikigai Cybrawl."
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I smiled crookedly. "In that case, it would be an honor to join forces against this asshole."
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Vindicator let out a humorless snicker under his breath. "I was starting to think you weren't gonna show up, Curseword. I'm glad I was wrong."
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Atlas scowled and held the knife up to Vindicator's throat.
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Vindicator shook his head. "Look at you, you're terrified of me. I can see it in your eyes."
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Atlas didn't waver.
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"Deep down, you're still the scared little boy I met all those years ago."
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Atlas drove his fist into his opponent's face. Every inch of his body trembled.
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I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
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Atlas clenched his jaw, and nodded.
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Vindicator readjusted his mask, then turned to me. "Are you aware that the man you've chosen to align yourself with has murdered a dozen of our fellow cyborgs?"
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"First of all Atlas has only killed eleven cyborgs, Second—"
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"And you're okay with that? You don't feel guilty for associating with someone who's slaughtered our brothers and sisters?"
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I shrugged. "Not really. My friend Mason always says I have a terrible moral compass."
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"Your friend right. Clearly, you lack a conscious." Vindicator clutched his axe. "Now, Curseword and I have unfinished business we need to resolve."
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Atlas tucked the knife away in his pocket. "No. I don't have time to deal with you today. Chase and I are leaving."
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"We are?" I asked. What about the map? Does he plan to leave without it?
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"No one is allowed to leave the area until someone is unconscious." Adrien protested over the loudspeakers.
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"I thought everything was allowed in an Ikigai Cybrawl!" I retorted.
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Adrien muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
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My eyes darted around the stadium. I didn't see any way off the platform we were currently standing on. "How are we supposed to get out of here?" I asked Atlas.
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I noticed a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "We're going to jump."
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"What?"
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"Follow my lead."
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