Hardly appeased, Aria had sat quietly while Viv made lunch hell for the Saber when he joined them—without Rei once again—interrogating Catcher about everything from the confusion of the night before to the bags under his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he’d only said over and over again, sounding worn down. “I can’t tell you more. Right now, I can’t tell you more.”
Needless to say, the meal had ended up being a sour affair, with the girl’s paired farewells a little more venomous than might have been called for as they’d headed for the Arena.
Reached the subbasement, they’d been unsurprised to find Rei missing from their usual row of lockers. With a further exchange of worried looks, the two of them had decided they would head to the campus hospital after afternoon training, thinking maybe he’d had gotten himself injured, or that perhaps the intense Sunday of sparring had triggered some kind of aggressive relapse of his fibro he might be trying to hide from them. With a course of action set, Aria and Viv had felt a bit better as they’d made for the subbasement gym, ready to distract themselves—and maybe vent a little of their shared frustration—by pummeling whichever poor unfortunates they would be paired off with in the day’s scheduled cross-training.
They’d been taken utterly aback, therefore, after entering the Wargames area only to find Rei already there, dressed in regulars as he stood off to one far side, speaking quietly with none other than Valera Dent.
It had become apparent to Aria, then and there, that something worthy of alarm was definitely—definitely—going on. Not only did Rei himself look hardly less pale than he had the day before, but the Iron Bishop was leaning in intently as she spoke. The exchange in fact, looked more like an interrogation than any sort of typical conversation, because Rei kept either nodding or shaking his head, only very occasionally opening his mouth to give a fuller answer to some question or another.
It was after nearly a minute more of this, when Dent had turned and started waving someone over from where 1-A had gathered as always around Field 3, that Rei caught sight of Aria and Viv watching him intensely.
It was like he hadn’t expected them to be there, as surprised as he seemed. He’d blinked and opened his mouth, clearly considering saying something, then shut it again as he thought better of it. The three of them had stared at each other for a time, at a loss as to how to interact in the moment, but then the person the captain had summoned broke from the crowd at a jog, and Aria’s confusion had only redoubled.
Claire de Soto, the Saber sub-instructor.
Not sure what to think of this odd group, Aria and Viv had watched together as Dent pulled de Soto in close to whisper something in the lieutenant’s ear. The more the Bishop had said, the more de Soto went rigid. Eventually the captain had pulled away again, and Aria might have imagined the unsteadiness in the nod and salute the Saber gave.
And then, with a word to Rei, de Soto had started leading him towards the exit of the subbasement gym.
That was when Aria hadn’t been able to hold herself back anymore.
“Rei!” she’d called after the two of them, hating the hint of desperation and fear in her voice.
He’d paused, then, looking around at her at last. For a second they locked eyes, and she saw—strangely enough—those same emotions playing out across his feature, and much more. Desperation and fear, yes, but also confusion, excitement.
Hope.
It had taken her by such surprise that she only half saw him turn away to follow the lieutenant, who’d called out for him to attend her. Aria had stared after the pair as they disappeared, standing beside a muttering Viv, only left more at a loss.
A few seconds later, though, a message had pinged her NOED, and seeing Rei’s name attached to it she’d opened it so quickly her whole head jerked in the direction of the icon.
Gag order.
The words had made Aria choke. Viv, too, had made a sound very much the same, making her realize the girl must have received the same message.
“Gag order?” Viv had barely managed to keep her voice to a low hiss of disbelief as the last of their class jogged into the gym around them from the hall. “Are you shitting me?”
Aria, though, had had no words to say to that, her mind awhirl once again. Rei hadn’t been injured. He hadn’t been sick. He’d hit C4 the night before, when he’d been hoping for Shido to evolve…
“Something happened,” she’d whispered. “With Shido. Something had to have happened.”
“You think?” Viv had grunted, then looked immediately sorry at her misplaced annoyance. Aria, though, hadn’t noticed.
She’d been too busy staring as a second message pinged her.
If I told you anything, I’d end up telling you everything.
With a glance at Viv’s lightless eyes Aria had realized that these words, this time, had been for her, and her alone. It had been a strange feeling, though not altogether unpleasant. It had quieted some of the fear, tempered it enough to let her tell Viv they should join the others. It had helped her sleep that night, assisted her in keeping the peace as Viv had once again ripped into Catcher about what was going on at breakfast and lunch the next day, and even allowed her to focus a little on her schoolwork even with Rei still absent from every class.
Now, though—as she, Viv, and Catcher all sat together in their typical seats in the stands of the Arena proper—even Rei’s last message wasn’t enough to keep her nervous anxiety at bay.
“Catcher,” she started quietly, cutting across Viv’s bad-tempered grumbling as below them Benaly won his match with a savage headlock and several driving punches straight into his opponent’s skull, “you can’t tell us anything? Anything at all?”
Two seats to her left, Catcher stiffened, then turned to glare at her. Gone was his usual pep and good humor. Gone was the amiable personality and energy. The boy looked exhausted, as he had for the better part of the last 2 days, his blond hair disheveled and his uniform less than crisp. This contrast was as alarming as anything else that had happened over the previous 36 hours, and Aria knew her concern had to be plain on her face when Catcher’s own expression softened a little after he caught her eye.
“Nothing, Aria. I’m sorry. Just watch the match.”
Hardly satisfied but knowing she wasn’t going to get any other answer, Aria sat back again to look down at the Arena. The field Benaly had been fighting on—a variation of Flood Zone—was gone, and the Brawler was in the process of helping his opponent—Amelia von Leef, she realized now—to her feet. Since there were only sixteen fights to be had that day, the matches had started later, so it was from a relatively hearty crowd of spectators that the cheering arose as the pair walked off the field together, Benaly with a fist in the air, von Leef staggering a little while she recovered from the neural scrambling of simulated brain damage.
“Not bad, not bad!” It was Sarah Takeshi once again who stood on the observation platform today with Dyrk Reese, her commentary lively and energetic, in direct contrast to how Aria was feeling. “Congratulations to Cadet Benaly on his qualification as the fifteenth of Galens’ sixteen individual Sectional combatants! Cadet von Leef, better luck next year!”
“Knew he’d make it,” Viv mumbled, and Aria glanced left to see her watching the Brawler disappear beneath the lip of the walkway. “Still not sure how I beat him.”
“By being better,” Catcher answered bluntly. His lack of gusto, so truly unlike him, was genuinely distressing.
All the same, Viv only turned and snapped at the Saber. “You don’t speak until you have something useful to tell us.”
Catcher rolled his eyes. “Watch the match, Viv.”
“What do you think it is we’re waiting for, exact—?!”
“And now—!” Sarah Takeshi’s voice rang out, cutting Viv off, and Aria was only barely aware of the deadening of almost all sound in the Arena as she snapped around to pay attention to the floor again “—our last and final match of the fir
st year bracket of this Intra-School tournament! You know both these combatants well already! One, the lowest-Ranked User to ever set foot in a Galens Institute classroom, having slashed and clawed his way to this opportunity! From the left… Cadet Reidon Ward!”
There was a surprisingly enthusiastic boom of applause as Rei made his appearance, long white hair tied behind his head in a loose tail while he strode with chin held high towards the western edge of the field. Aria thought she made out fewer jeers than usual, and even heard clearly Sense and Kay’s shouts of encouragement from somewhere above them. She herself only managed to clap, her throat clenched shut while she watched Rei make for the silver perimeter. Pulling up her NOED, she zoomed in, scrutinizing every inch of him, looking for anything, anything that would forewarn her of what she and Viv were being made to wait for. His scared arms and legs revealed nothing, unfortunately, and in the end Aria found her gaze lingering on his face as he came to stand at the expected point, eyes set and jaw clenched.
“He needs a haircut…” she muttered aloud before she could stop herself.
Even had Viv and Catcher not both turned slowly to look at her in confusion, then, Aria knew her face would have bloomed crimson at her slip. Fortunately, she was rescued from trying to save herself as Takeshi continued her announcement.
“And from the right, one of your strongest from the very beginning, and User who embodies the very meaning of ‘power’… Cadet Logan Grant!”
The applause was louder this time, Aria could tell, but similarly of a mixed bag. As the hulking, black-haired form of the Mauler appeared, it wasn’t just Catcher who managed to drum up enough energy to cup his hands about his mouth and boo. There were other catcalls, too, as well as a few shouts of instigation from the gathered first years. Grant, it seemed—whether by his own virtue or that of the unappealing entourage he’d managed to gather about himself—appeared to be growing steadily more popular for all the wrong reasons.
To his crediting, the massive boy didn’t grace his hecklers with so much as a glance around at the stands, his eyes set straight ahead, his attention focused. The cheering and jeering alike had settled on its own by the time he’d reached the eastern point of the perimeter opposite Rei, and quiet descended even as Grant turned to face the field.
“They both need haircuts…”
As strained as it was, Aria couldn’t help but smile hearing Viv’s mumbled whisper, obviously intended for her alone. She didn’t look around, but did reach out to seek her friends hand. Finding it between their seats, she slipped her fingers into Viv’s, and felt the anxious pressure she gave them returned in trembling fashion.
There was more involved in this fight than even a smug bastard like Dyrk Reese probably knew…
It was as she considered this that the major himself stepped forward on the hovering platform, replacing Captain Takeshi at its head. In that steady, unflinching voice of a man well-versed in hiding satisfaction, Reese looked down on his two charges a moment before speaking.
“Combatants, take position.”
Neither of the boys hesitated, stepping over the silver line before them to reach their red starting circles in near unison. Not once, still, had either looked away from the other.
“This is gonna be a bloodbath,” someone hissed from off to Aria’s right, but she couldn’t be bothered to turn around and glare at the offending voice as the moment approached. Still clinging to Viv’s hand, she waited.
“This is as an official Duel,” came the arbiter’s speech. “It will therefore be subject to regulation ruling. Once the field is formed you will be ordered to call, then engage. Premature Device manifestation will result in a penalty. Premature approach, attack, or the like will result in a match loss. Understood?”
The silence of the stands was so absolute, Aria could almost believe she could hear Rei and Grant nod in unison. There were another few seconds of nothing, and then finally Reese’s eyes lit up.
At once, the field began to rise.
And rose white.
“Son of a bitch,” Aria heard Viv curse. Catcher looked around at them in concern, not understanding the outburst of fury, but Aria’s own anger bubbled as the starkness of a Neutral Zone variation took form. It started simply enough, the flat light of the ivory, hexagonally-patterned floor starting to lift the two boys from the ground, but as they climbed the distinct factors of the zone started to make themselves known. Some of the tiles ascended slower, and others faster. Uneven dips and rises in the floor began to show, though hardly as obvious as the multitude of plain pillars that took the form of a long, trailing set of stairs to arch around the south side of the field. At once muttering started up from some of the first years—their fellow 1-A classmates, Aria knew—and from below someone who might have been Mateus Selleck could be heard to give a sharp “Ha!” of laughter.
“Field: Neutral Zone,” the Arena announced.
“Isn’t that the Speed & Agility test field?” Catcher asked from two seats over. “What’s up with that? And what’s got everyone riled up?”
Viv—apparently forgetting her earlier vow of silence when it came to the boy—answered through gritted teeth. “It’s the same field. The same field. Reese isn’t even trying to hide the manipulation, anymore.”
Catcher, understandably hardly enlightened by this, looked around the back of Viv’s head to Aria.
“It’s the field Grant attacked Rei on,” she clarified, having a little trouble keeping her own voice steady. “After the match had ended, during the first quarter.”
“Are you kidding me?” Catcher hissed, turning to look back to the main floor with fury in his eyes.
Before any of them could say anything else, though, the Arena spoke again, and Aria felt her heart skip a beat.
“Cadet Logan Grant versus Cadet Reidon Ward. Combatants… Call.”
From either side of the field there came a whirling of metal and light. About Grant’s body his CAD took form in a flash, and it looked to have evolved a second time since Aria had last taken careful note of it, after he’d developed Overclock. The white steel plating of his armor now encased not only both his arms, but also his lower legs, and his axe blade had broadened. It still extended half the length of the weapon’s 6-foot haft, but the flat of it now was almost a foot-and-a-half wide, speaking to a truly massive Strength spec. Red vysetrium lined its keen edge, as well as the joints and layers of the armor, giving Grant the look of a standard-bearer holding his flag in both hands in defense of the ivory ground he stood upon. Overall, no one could claim the Mauler wasn’t an intimidating presence.
The whispers and shouts of surprise that came at the call, though, weren’t for Grant.
“Oh…” Aria heard herself whisper in awe.
In contrast to his opponent, Rei could hardly have stood out more against the colorless backdrop of the Neutral Zone. Shido—originally having covered only both arms and from his knees down—now rose as high as his waist, encasing his hips in black steel that bloomed with blue light. What was more, a black half-mask now shielded the lower part of his face, more vysetrium splitting the thing down the middle, and a loop of white fabric cut around Rei’s head, centered with a single curved plate of steel above his eyes.
Despite the fact that he was still a good foot or so shorter than Logan Grant, he nevertheless cut an intimidating air that set more than one spectator to whispering.
Still… That was the measure of the change. As Rei settled into a ready stance, bringing his hands up at the ready, Aria saw the same metal-clad fists, the same black claws glinting in the light. Shido’s adaptations were noteworthy, to be sure—what C-Ranked User had she ever heard of who sported even the beginnings of a helm?—but if this was the extent of it…
Fortunately for Aria’s calmer temperament, Viv seemed to be of the same mind set.
“That’s it?” she was already demanding, turning on Catcher with a slow, dangerous care. “I swear, Catcher, if the two of you hav
e put us through the ringer for the last two days over an impressive evolution, I’m gonna—!”
“Viv.” The Saber cut her off steadily, meeting first her eye, then Aria’s over her shoulder. “Watch. The. Match.”
Then there was no option left to them.
“Combatants,” the Arena called out. “… Fight.”
CHAPTER 57
“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
- Bhagavad Gita
ancient Hindu scripture, Earth
Standing there opposite Logan Grant on the Neutral Zone, Rei had to work to keep his breathing steady. Shido helped with that. His new mask had proven much more than just a decoration over the last day and half, demonstrating itself invaluable in boosting his body’s endurance and recovery by—he assumed—adjusting the percentage of oxygen he took in with every inhalation. It had helped Rei keep his head clear, his thinking sharp and faculties focused as he trained, first with Catcher, then with Claire de Soto following Valera Dent’s permission.
He needed all that assistance, now, as anger burned across every inch of his being.
He knew this field. Yes, of course he knew it. He’d been here before, and not just in the Speed & Agility parameter test. Dyrk Reese—or whoever was responsible for pulling the man’s strings, now—had even gone through the pain of making sure Rei started on the same side of the Neutral Zone variation. To his left was open space, though the floor was uneven due to the offset settling of its hexagonal partitions. To his right, however, was the curving rise of the pillars he’d forced Grant to chase him up, the very ones he’d flung both himself and the Mauler from in an attempt to earn a shot at winning that long-finished fight. It was all meant to shake him, he knew. All meant to get in his head, to bang—loudly—at the walls of his focus.
Iron Prince: A Progression Sci-Fi Epic (Warformed: Stormweaver Book 1) Page 98
