by Simon Archer
I had to dodge six more of his energy attacks before I got anywhere near him, and honestly, that last one cut my cheek. As I felt warm blood run down my face, that, combined with the effects of the Taunt, made me right pissed off.
That’s when I heard the sound I’d been listening for. The step of his boots and heave of breath as he hefted his axe to attack me with the weapon finally. It meant I was finally close enough. I extended my senses and felt the force of the air coming toward me as his blade cut through the air with a scream of sound that should have terrified me, but it just didn’t. He was, after all, already dead.
With practiced ease, I stepped in close to the big man, and even though I could probably have dodged the attack, I decided not to. Instead, I raised my left arm in the path of his axe’s haft and angled it in the way I had a million times before. It came down with bone-shattering force, and I knew instantly that he’d broken my arm even through my chain shirt.
But my block had kept the blade from imbedding itself in my skull for that extra split-second I needed. As my left forearm bent awkwardly, I used the extra time I’d gained to twist my body and dodge the rest of his attack. As the axe slammed into the ground where I’d been only a moment before, I felt a surge of power rush through me from Cursed Soul because well, the more damaged I was, the stronger I became. That was exactly what I wanted.
“Diamond Punch!” I cried in my best Captain Falcon a split second before my fist hardened into an adamantine spike of serrated death.
Then I shifted my hips, drawing power from my feet and forcing it through my entire body as I came up in a vicious uppercut that caught the big man under the chin with enough force to send my spike punching through the top of his skull.
4
“Did you see that match at the Trash House?” someone on the barstool next to me said as I nursed my kettle-brewed pomegranate sour. Hey, what can I say, I like fruity beers alright, but I don’t really do sweets or empty carbs, really. Hell, if Mick found out about this, he would straight up kill me.
“Yeah, I saw that match,” his friend replied with a smirk. “It was crazy how fast that guy took down everyone. I knew he was something when he dropped Kaiser--”
“Kaiser is a putz, and everyone knows he starts out with Shadowstep. The guy probably watched him and knew what to expect.”
“Maybe, but I think he was just reacting. He was so fast, even with a chain shirt,” the friend mused with a shrug. “It’s too bad he disappeared without saying anything. I’d have loved to buy him a beer.”
“You still could,” I said as I took a final swig of beer and pushed the empty glass across the old-timey polished wood bar.
“Huh?” the guy said as he turned to look at me, his face all squinted up. “Did you say something?”
“I said you could still buy me a beer.” I smirked as I turned and glanced at him, granted, I wasn’t sure if he could actually see my face since I was wearing my hoodie. “For winning at the Trash House.”
I held up the tiny silver pin the owner had given me to commemorate my win. It meant I could skip straight into the finals like Gilgamesh if I ever came back.
“Wait, you’re him?” the guy next to me asked, his mouth half falling open in shock. “The Main Event?”
“Among other things,” I said as I signaled the bartender, a balding man in a white button-up and red suspenders, for another beer. I’d earned a second one.
“I’ll get that one, Joe,” the friend said, making good on his promise to buy me a beer. It made me like him even more.
“Thanks.” I gave him a nod. “I appreciate it.”
“So, how did you beat Kaiser’s Shadowstep?” the one next to me asked. “How did you know he was going to use it on you?”
“Well, you know the saying, ‘the tallest piece of grass gets clipped?’” I said as I took my new beer and sipped it. As the sour flavors of the pomegranate exploded across my tongue, I couldn’t help but take a couple more sips before I continued. “I was the tallest blade of grass, and from the way his armor was glinting, I guessed he had Shadowstep. He seemed like the type.” I shrugged and drank some more beer. Damn was it good. Maybe I’d have a third.
“Makes sense,” the guy next to me mused as he rubbed his chin. “Still, to pull that off… you a pro?”
“Yeah.” I drained my glass and signaled for another even though it was already starting to hit me. I hadn’t eaten for at least four hours and had ‘worked out’ quite a bit since then. “Say, what’s good to eat here? I’m starving.”
“Um… everything,” the friend said with a shrug. “Though I like the garlic fries. They cover them with tons of gorgonzola. Makes your breath stink like hell but it's worth it.”
I thought about it for a moment, and while they did sound good, I knew what would happen if I ate those. Mick would smell the garlic on my breath in the morning and make me do burpees until I died. Speaking of which, I was supposed to be up in two hours. Maybe I should just pack it in. I’d had my fun--
“No, man,” the guy next to me cut in as he threw his arm around my shoulder, clearly a bit drunker than I’d initially thought because now I could smell the whiskey on his breath. “You need the Starved for Attention Burger.” He stretched his hands wide. “It has three kinds of cheese, two half-pound patties, pulled pork, deep pit beef, and a slab of tri-tip. Then…” His hands got even wider. “They top it with a fried egg.”
“That sounds like a mouthful,” I said though I had to admit, it did sound really good because while I hardly ate anything but cod, God, how I hated cod, I did like everything on that burger. “Do people really order that?”
“No.” The friend shook his head adamantly. “They don’t. In fact, I’ve never seen someone get it.”
“But,” the guy next to me cut in, obviously excited at the prospect that I might order it, “if you do, and you eat the whole thing in under an hour, you get it free.”
“And if you don’t, you get to pay half your paycheck for the thing.” The friend raised his beer, some kind of IPA. “I’d rather drink away my troubles.”
“Unfortunately, I’m going to be too drunk for that if I have another.” I frowned as I finished my last beer. “Too bad though, ‘cause the beer here isn’t bad.”
“You can always go for the fish and chips,” the guy next to me said, clearly crestfallen. “I think they’re even made with real fish.”
“Yep,” the bartender said as he came over and looked at my empty glass. “Made with the finest arctic cod. We’re known for ‘em.”
“Anything but cod.” I shook my head before nodding toward my beer. “Do you know how much cod I eat? Pounds. Like a whole factory worth of cod.”
“You trying to be like the Champ?” the friend asked as he finished his beer. “I hear he eats tons of cod.”
“Not exactly--”
“There’s no shame in it. He’s stacked as hell and the best player in the world.” The guy next to me flopped back onto his stool. “Say, if you’re a pro, have you ever met him?”
“Fuck it,” I mumbled and discretely pushed my hood back so only the pair could see my face and neck, and as their eyes widened in shocked recognition, I smiled. Then I quickly pulled my hood back on before anyone else noticed.
“Y-you’re him,” he stuttered in a way that was starting to become a thing I wasn’t sure I liked.
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone.” I nodded to my new beer. “Mick would kill me if he found out.”
“Can we get a picture?” the friend said, almost bouncing with excitement. “My son is gonna flip.”
“Sure,” I said and got to my feet. The guy came over and posed next to me while his buddy took our picture with the dude’s phone. “Did it turn out okay?”
“This is so better than okay!” he exclaimed, and he was about to say more when I heard a yelp from the other side of the room.
“Get the fuck off of me, you perv!” a redhead with a face like Aphrodite and a body that the goddess wou
ld beg for cried out as she pushed away a large biker with more patches on his leather vest than I would have thought would be practical. That combined with his long brown beard and tattoos made it work though.
“Hey, all I am saying is a girl like you shouldn’t be out here all alone. You might need protecting.” He took a step toward her, all huge, imposing muscle. “And I’m quite the protector.”
“Maybe you leave her alone since she asked you nicely and all,” I said as I picked up my beer from the bar and downed a third in a gulp. Then I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. That’s when I felt the hand of the guy I’d taken the picture with on my shoulder.
“Don’t do it, Champ,” the guy hissed. “That’s Willie Barbosa, and he’s not above shanking a guy in an alley if you catch my drift.”
“Noted,” I said as I took another step toward them, “but evil wins when good men stand idle.”
“Maybe listen to your friend and fuck off,” Barbosa snarled, already mostly ignoring me as he turned his attention back to Aphrodite.
“Maybe you fuck off.” I was already on my feet and stumbling toward them. Okay, stumble was too strong a word for what I did. I sort of sloshed toward them. Yes, my mom does think I’m funny. “Because you’re supposed to treat women with kindness and respect.”
“Look, bub,” the guy growled as he finally stood up and faced me, all six foot seven and four hundred pounds of him. “I will rip off your head and shit down your throat--”
“Do you know how many times I’ve heard someone say that to me?” I held out my free hand. “Like at least six.” I tried to hold up six fingers on one hand and failed. “Let’s round it to five.” I gave him a sheepish grin.
“That’s it!” Barbosa stomped toward me, and as he got up close, I realized he was about to get all up in my grill. Only, that's when I noticed he had his left hand down with his pointer finger down. It almost made me smile.
A while back, I’d been to a training class with a badass dude who told me to always carry a knife and, when I did, to hide it just like that. His reasoning was simple. People will let you get close if they don’t know you have a weapon, and by the time they realized you have a knife, they’ve already stabbed you.
So, instead of letting him get close, I finished my beer with a single gulp and flung the mug at his face. The heavy glass cracked him straight in the nose, and as he stumbled back, the knife slipped from his left hand and clattered to the floor.
I took advantage by stepping forward and stomping hard on his right foot, pinning it to the floor. Then I shoulder checked him. The move should have sent him stumbling, but because I’d pinned his foot beneath mine, he fell over onto his back instead, and his head smacked against the hardwood floor of the bar. Then I stomped the groin because I was an ardent follower of Master Ken.
As he lay there writhing, I glanced at the stunned bartender. “Call Mallory Lawson in the morning, and she can pay for whatever damage.” I pointed at the two guys I’d been drinking with. “Oh, and whatever they want for the rest of the night.” As the guy nodded dumbly, I turned to Aphrodite. “Everything okay?”
“Better now that you’re here,” she said as she looked me up and down. “You’re him, aren’t you? Garrett Andrews.” She grinned. “I made you ever since you walked into the Trash House, and I’ve been sitting here this whole time, waiting for you to talk to me.”
“I guess you saw past my Clark Kent disguise.” I frowned and tugged sheepishly at my usually sufficient hoodie.
“See, when Superman becomes Clark Kent, he isn’t hiding. He actually becomes him. He slouches a bit, talks a little different.” She smiled up at me, and it was like watching a sunrise. “You’re always Superman.”
“I’m really more of a Batman person myself.” I smiled.
“Oh yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Instead of being a solar-powered demi-god, I’d much rather be an orphan with daddy issues.”
“Point taken.” I laughed while Barbosa groaned on the ground, so I made sure to stomp on his groin again. He could sue me later, and I’d buy him a wardrobe, but I suspected that he wouldn’t want people to know what happened. Yay for tiny victories.
“Anyway, what’s say the two of us get out of here?” She took my hand then, and the feeling of her touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins.
“I would like that,” I said as my heart hammered in my chest. “Your place or mine?”
“Oh, mine, most definitely,” she said as she met my eyes, and I damned near drowned in their crystal blue waters. “I’ve had it specially prepared just for you.”
“While a bit creepy, I’m also intrigued,” I said as she took my hand and began to lead me toward the door.
“You should be,” she said as she looked back at me and batted her wonderful lashes at me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve decided to bring someone back to my place.” She gave me a wink as we hit the door, and while I was sure my friends said something, I barely heard them as we stepped out into the cool night air.
5
“So,” she asked as she took my hand. The feel of her skin against mine was strangely comfortable. It was almost like we’d done it a million times before… only I’d just met her. Hell, I didn’t even know her name yet. “I have to ask, why did you decide to play Terra Forma?” She smiled brightly. “It’s not as if there aren’t other choices in the Esports world.”
“That feels like a loaded question,” I said with a laugh as we began walking down the street.
“It isn’t.” She grinned at me sheepishly. “See, I love Terra Forma more than anything, but whenever I try to talk to my contemporaries about it, they just shrug, and disinterest fills their eyes.” That grin shifted into a smirk. “Somehow, I do not feel that it will be the case with you.”
“I suppose so.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I play it, like, ninety hours a day.”
“False,” she replied in a fucking perfect Dwight Schrute impression. “There are only twenty-four hours in a day.”
“Fair enough,” I said with a laugh. “Though I’m surprised you know about The Office. That show ended forever ago, and no one ever gets any of my references for it.”
“It’s pretty much the second best show that was ever made.” She held up one finger. “First being One Punch Man of course.” At that moment, I wanted to marry her. Instead, I just stood there slack-jawed while she pulled me along. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Why Terra Forma, Champ?”
“Because,” I said after I chased away Cupid and his arrows with a mental swat, “I just… I like everything okay.” I shrugged nervously and swung my gaze around the darkened street. “I like the ‘crafting your city part’ a lot. You know, taking nothing and making something. I like engaging in trade with other communities--”
“And taking everything for yourself?” she mused, eyes bright and full of intelligence.
“I guess…” I scratched the back of my neck. “I’ve never really played that way. Yeah, I know you can exploit the other communities, especially the ones through the portals, but I always found I enjoyed the game better when we all got stronger. Then, when I needed aid, they could help me.”
“That’s not a common strategy.” She was looking at me intensely now, and for some reason, I felt the need to justify myself.
“See, there’s always the threat of the Great and Powerful Zaxcs, The Planet Devourer coming, right? I’ve encountered the bastard three times in solo play, and the one time I actually won, it was because my allies from the portals helped me. They came into my world with fucking legions, everything from Dinosaur Riders to high-tech Wave Skimmers to Flux Mages. And then we fought while I used every ability in my God’s arsenal to put a dent in him.”
“Really?” she asked with barely contained surprise. “I hadn’t heard of anyone ever beating Zaxcs when he shows up.”
“Well, it was just the one time,” I said, sort of flushed. “The first two times, I put up a good fight, but without any
allies showing up, I got killed before he was even half dead...”
I stopped because she was staring at me wide-eyed. “You got him half dead, solo?” The words were barely a whisper.
“Yes?” I said with a shrug and tried to play it off, but she stared at me in amazement for a long time. Too long, really. “Anyway, that’s why I like the game. I like to form the community. Even in my matches with other players, you’ll find I use my Hero Units a lot more than most players.”
“I still can’t believe you got Zaxcs to half health solo.” She swallowed hard. “That would be like, I dunno, soloing the Battle of Helm’s Deep.”
“Well, that’s why I lost, and why they would have lost if the Elves hadn’t shown up.” I smirked. “And I have to say, I am surprised that was the reference you went with.”
“Oh?” She smiled brightly at me. “I guess I could have said something like soloing the siege of Paris in Vikings, or the raid by the Royal Commandos against German drydocks at St. Nazaire during World War II.” She looked at me curiously. “Or would you have preferred me talking about the defeat of the Resurrection Ship in season two of Battlestar Galactica?”
I was in love. Totally, utterly. Somehow, someway, she knew history, Lord of the Rings, Vikings, and Battlestar Galactica? Who was this girl?
Normally, the girls I’d met were fans of me and kinda sorta the game, but this girl? She just seemed… more into it. Like she really understood what an accomplishment it was to fight Zaxcs off.
And she was pretty to boot. It almost defied logic. Worse, it made me a bit nervous, though that could have been because we were entering a part of town I definitely wasn’t familiar with.
“Is it much farther?” I asked as I looked around, anxiety starting to build in my gut. “Because I’ll be honest, I’m starting to get antsy. I don’t really like not knowing where I’m going.”
