by Hayes, Drew
That was without even taking into account the other burden on his shoulders, though at least that was a shared one. As the first Powereds to become Supers, what he and Alice could do here mattered for more than just themselves. Five had been turned: one was expelled, one dropped out, and one didn’t quite make the cut for Intramurals. That they’d made it this far was an incredible accomplishment in itself, but one that wouldn’t matter if Vince got squashed in his first fight. What happened here would have lasting implications on how former Powereds were seen. It might even play a role in whether or not the world boiled over in war and holy crap that was a lot to have riding on one fight and was this a good-
Vince smacked himself in the forehead roughly. Damnit; he’d gone down another bad thought-hole. Hopefully the match would start soon; otherwise he might end up beating himself before the first punch was ever thrown.
* * *
It was easy to see why the woman who’d bowed, drawing ire from her classmates, conducted herself with confidence. The gal had power; there was no question about that. Nick watched as the battlefield blazed. The dry, rocky terrain that had been chosen was scored with scorch marks. A huge fireball tore through the air, and her opponent dove to the ground, drenched in sweat, hurriedly surrendering.
“Clifton Bean has surrendered, meaning this bout goes to Lucinda Cherry of Overton!” Victor was really getting into his job, announcing like there was a crowd of millions watching at home instead of the small group inside the viewing room.
The announcement wasn’t met with much shock; Lucinda had more or less dominated from the moment the fight began. She had the kind of wild-eyed enthusiasm for battle that would have made her quite at home in Lander’s Class of Nightmares.
“Interesting. She fights like Angela.” Chad was carefully keeping his voice low as they spoke, making sure not to give any of their insights away to others. “Although she pretends to be conducting herself in an erratic, chaotic manner, her movements are actually carefully chosen as counters to her enemy’s own actions.”
“It’s not the most popular style out there, but more than a few Heroes have used it to solid effect,” Shane told him. “Being hard to predict makes it tough on your enemies, and that can give you an advantage, if you know how to use it. Too bad for her, though. If Vince wins his fight, she’ll have to go up against him in the next round. Fire is a damn useful ability, but it won’t do much against him.”
Nick found the discussion interesting. Not so much for their insights into the fight – he’d picked up on all of that already – but rather for what they’d missed. There was a dimension to her fighting style no one seemed to be talking about, although he couldn’t imagine he was the only one who caught it. More likely, the others in the room who’d noticed were keeping their mouths shut, hoarding every bit of information they could to keep even the smallest advantage. Or perhaps they were waiting until they knew more before they wasted time on conjecture. Regardless, Nick had a feeling a fight between Vince and Lucinda would be more entertaining than Shane might expect, although first Vince would have to get past his opponent from Korman.
Across the room, Victor was choosing a field at random from his box, swirling the balls around until he pulled out what apparently felt like a good one. Glancing at it quickly, he held it up to for the room to see. “Everyone, it looks like we’ve got our first urban combat match! Let’s see how these students deal with a more complex environment in a one-on-one bout. And let’s hope Dean Blaine made sure to clean out all the SIMs, or this match could get really exciting!”
Victor, clearly quite proud of his joke, looked over to Dean Blaine only to find a hard stare waiting for him. Apparently Dean Blaine didn’t take well to even the suggestion that he would leave combat robots laying around, and when Victor spoke again it was with a touch less exuberance in his voice.
“Handlers, bring out our next combatants. It’s time for a street fight.”
263.
It felt oddly familiar, being in one of Lander’s fake underground cities. This was a new one to him, or the layout had been substantially changed, but regardless, Vince noticed his tension easing a bit as he took in his surroundings. The area wasn’t as big as a normal city. They only had a couple of simulated blocks to fight in, yet even within that space there were buildings of varying height, material, and shape. Mobility was going to play a big role in this match, and stealth might as well, depending on what his opponent brought to the table.
Standing farther away on the same street as Vince was his enemy for this round. He was a wiry looking fellow, light-blue tinted sclera marking him as a Super. It didn’t escape Vince’s notice that he’d eschewed a normal uniform for the thick material shifters often wore, although there was also a compartmented belt around his waist and matching bands across either wrist. They locked eyes until Victor finally called for introductions.
“Sam Carney, Close Combat major. After I graduate, the world will know me as Grave Robber.”
“Vince Reynolds, also a Close Combat major. I, um, haven’t picked a name yet.”
Sam’s forehead creased in visible surprise. “Seriously? The year’s almost over, man, what are you waiting for?”
“The fight begins, now!” Victor had ignored the extended banter, instead pushing them to get the real show going.
Although he’d decided to start off defensively until he saw what Sam could do, Vince was surprised to find there wasn’t an attack coming to defend against. So far, the participants had engaged the moment the matches were instigated, leading to a cluster of immediate attacks and counters in the first few seconds. Sam did no such thing. Instead, he popped open a compartment on his belt and pulled something out. Before there was time to see what it was, Sam had tossed the thing in his mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed. Within seconds, a dark shiny covering grew across his skin, covering him from head to toe in segmented chunks of armor. It looked like a human had crawled inside a bug’s body and wrapped the chitin around itself.
“Didn’t expect you to give me a chance to put on my fighting skin. Very sporting of you. Or maybe you’re just really bad at this. Be honest: did your class send you as a prank?” Sam was moving now, bursting off the ground and racing toward Vince. The dense armor slowed him down slightly, but experience and training had dulled that drawback to a mere inconvenience. Sam made it within punching range and took a solid swing that would have likely fractured Vince’s jaw, if it had connected.
Being slowed a little might not be a big deal in the overall scheme of things; however, against someone with Vince’s martial training it made a hell of a difference. The blows were simple to predict and easy to avoid. While he didn’t trust himself to block without absorbing until he saw how much force was in those punches, dodging was easy enough to accomplish. Sam stepped up his attack, trying to land a blow on Vince, who continued to step away from swing after swing. He could counter, landing a kinetically-enhanced punch and playing the role of a strongman, but that didn’t seem prudent yet. The less he showed off in early rounds, the better, because as soon as they knew he was an absorber, the smarter ones would also realize how to counter him. For the moment, Sam was wearing himself down with bigger and bigger swings, while Vince was only using the bare amount of energy needed to dodge.
Much as he would have liked to see Sam tire himself out, the guy hadn’t been chosen for Intramurals without reason. After a few more punches, Sam suddenly retreated, putting significant distance between himself and Vince. “Goddamnit, we’re playing the same game, aren’t we? You’re waiting for me to show you what I can really do so you can counter, and I’m trying to bait you into letting me see your power. We’re both trying to get away with showing as little as possible.”
“Well, there is an audience,” Vince said.
“Then I guess we’d better give them something to see.” Sam took a step like he was about to charge once more, but when Vince braced for another attack, Sam used the brief moment to pull something else f
rom his belt and pop it into his mouth. Sam’s body suddenly started to swell, his chitin cracking and falling away in some places, revealing thick gray muscle underneath. On his forehead, a small nub of a horn cracked through the dense armor, growing nearly half a foot before stopping. “Dodge this, you Lander snob.”
Sam’s attack wasn’t fake this time; he sent a spray of concrete shards in the air as he dug his foot down and pushed off hard. It was a hell of a charge, quick and direct with a perfect line on Vince. The only downside was that Sam didn’t quite have Roy’s level of strength and speed, so it came as a step down for someone accustomed to dodging these sorts of attacks. Vince easily moved out of the way, watching as Sam’s new bulk carried him forward. The dodge seemed to infuriate Sam, who ground his heels to a halt, spun around, and charged once more. Vince avoided that attack, as well as the next two that followed it, until the fourth time when Sam didn’t turn around quite as quickly, instead slamming his horned forehead into a nearby wall and shattering the brick.
“Will you throw a fucking punch already! This is getting ridiculous.”
He had a point; Vince knew this wasn’t much of a flashy show for the spectators, especially compared to the fights they’d seen before. But Vince had tons of flash when the moment called for it. Right now, he wanted to show everyone that he also had control and discretion, the judgment to use the correct amount of force for the job. That was something he would prove through making smart, tactical calls, not coming out guns blazing. Sooner or later, he’d have to counter Sam; he just hoped to see a little more of what was hiding in that belt before the time came. So Vince did what he felt like Nick would have encouraged, and decided to try his hand at some smack talk.
“When you present me a suitable challenge, I’ll strike back. If not, after I’m sure this is all you have, I’ll end things.”
Although Vince wasn’t sure if Sam noticed he’d done it, one of those thick legs slammed into the ground at the sound of Vince’s taunt, pawing at it as he readied for another charge. “You Lander people and your egos. Just because your school has prestige in the public’s eye doesn’t actually make it better. But fine, I guess you get what you want. No more sandbagging. Time to make this a real fight.”
The charge was faster than those that had come before, though Vince still easily leapt out of the way. To his surprise, Sam didn’t stop running this time. Instead he plowed through the front of a small shop, vanishing in a shower of glass and dust. There was a dull thud from the other side of the building as Sam emerged, but his form was too obscured for Vince to clearly make out. There was a sudden tightness in his stomach as Vince realized he might have just made his first mistake of the fight: letting Sam slip out of view.
From a street away, Vince heard Sam’s voice rise up, slightly muffled by the sounds of chewing.
“Congratulations, Vince of Lander. I was hoping not to break out a party pack until at least the next round, but you forced my hand. I hope you’re as ready for this as you think you are.”
264.
The silence was unnerving. Sam’s body was huge and cumbersome – every step he took should have been sending rumbles through the street, yet Vince couldn’t make out as much as a light scuff. He was either standing perfectly still, which was unlikely, or he’d shifted once more to something that could move around covertly. How many forms did this guy have, anyway?
Taking a moment to breathe, Vince forced himself to stay calm. This wasn’t his first time hunting an enemy through cover, thanks to all of Lander’s training and tests. His focus turned to the ambient heat around him, the kind put out by human bodies. By absorbing on a very low level, he could sense the heat sources just like he’d hunted the speedster’s kinetic output last May. In no time, he’d have Sam’s exact location and could form a plan from there.
Except… he couldn’t seem to find Sam. That made no sense; even if he was shifting forms, Sam’s body should still put out detectable levels of heat. Vince quieted every other part of his mind, focusing only on the heat slowly pouring into his body. There had to be a variant somewhere. It was just a matter of focus.
It was close, but Vince caught the slight flicker of heat and movement above him just before the attack came. He spun around to find… something perched on top of a nearby building. Sam was no longer huge or gray, though there did seem to be fresh chitin on his body. Also in the mix were mandibles, antennae, claws, and several other features Vince couldn’t name without a biology book on hand. Horrifying didn’t even begin to describe the sight, and that was before Sam launched his strike. A stream of green liquid shot out from a sack below his mouth, on a crash course for Vince. The moment of warning gave him a chance to react, but the goo was too spread out to dodge cleanly, and without knowing what it did he couldn’t risk being exposed to any of it.
Vince’s hand flew up and an orange barrier appeared overhead, catching the brunt of the splatter. A few drops hit the ground nearby, hissing and sizzling as they landed. Acid? Aside from the question of how on earth Sam had this much versatility, was that still on the side of non-lethal attacks?
“If you’re wondering, I shot enough to wound and disorient, but not so much to inflict deadly injuries.” Sam’s voice was high and strained, his vocal chords clearly warped by this fresh transformation. “And look at that! Someone finally had to use their power. Energy manipulation is a good one, but you’ll need more tricks than a shield to beat me.”
With one motion, Sam leapt from the top of the building, whipping through the air and landing twenty feet away from Vince without missing a beat. Now that his legs were in view, Vince could see they were warped and swollen, not to mention tinted an off shade of green. It was seeing those malformed legs that finally brought everything home for Vince, though even he felt like it should have clicked sooner.
“Grave Robber. I get it: you literally are what you eat. You’re stealing traits from the things you ingest, aren’t you? The first time you ate a beetle, and then you chewed down rhino… wait, aren’t those endangered?”
“Individuals of the species still die naturally, and I have a source who provides me with a little bit of the meat,” Sam replied, so quickly that Vince knew without asking that he wasn’t the first to bring this up. “Besides, the real fun starts when I eat a pre-made grab bag – or party packs as I like to think of them. This one is called Bug Bomb, for obvious reasons. See, that’s why I’m going to win this whole tournament, even though I’m not from the famous Lander. I’ve got adaptability that you can only dream of. All you have is a little bit of orange energy.”
Sam was barely done speaking when another shot of acid fired from his mouth. Vince’s trained reactions were all that saved him; he barely managed to get another energy shield up in time. The conversation had gone on for longer than was strictly necessary, so there was a fair chance Sam couldn’t shoot that goop indefinitely. He probably had to rebuild up his supply between blasts – or else he was trying to trick Vince into thinking that so he could catch him off-guard. It was hard to dismiss anything with an opponent who put this much thought into their tactics.
The brief moment of relief Vince felt from stopping the goo was cut short as Sam darted up close to him, swinging a clawed hand for Vince’s torso. Evidently the acid was only a distraction. As Vince tried to dodge like he had so many strikes before, he realized that he was too slow. Sam didn’t get in deep, but he sliced neatly through the uniform, leaving a trail of bloody gashes across Vince’s ribs. Although he didn’t fully understand how, Vince had to accept that Sam’s new form was faster than the old one. He backpedaled, trying to put some distance between himself and those dangerous claws, but Sam wasn’t letting up. Vince needed a moment to think, to regroup, to buy himself a second to contemplate a strategy. It was like the fight with Camille where he had been constantly pressed, unable to think past avoiding the next strike. Only this time, Vince was better prepared.
The bubble of orange energy surrounded Vince completely, cuttin
g him off from Sam’s assault. Vince hadn’t been sure he’d be able to make something like this until it happened; he didn’t have Thomas’s level of control with the energy. It was hard to hold in place, and he could already feel the limited resource draining, but he’d bought himself a few seconds to think and that was worth having.
“Hiding in your shield now? Come on, seriously, how did you end up at Intramurals if this is all you’ve got.” Sam was trying to bait him; he thought he had the fight locked down.
With a moment to properly analyze the situation, Vince came to an inescapable conclusion: he was going to have to show his real power. Whether it was poor strategy on his part or just bad luck of the draw, Sam had proven too dangerous to try and beat while holding back. It was too bad; after seeing Alice and Chad keep their secrets hidden, he’d really hoped to do the same.
“For what it’s worth, Sam, I think you should know that you’re really strong. I wasn’t expecting to go full-force in this fight either, but you’ve forced my hand. No matter how this turns out, I think you’ll make a very capable Hero one day.”
“Thank… you?” Sam’s malformed eyes were clouded with confusion at Vince’s compliment, and the feeling only grew stronger as he watched the orange shield vanish into thin air. “I’m confused, are you giving up?”
“No. I’m cutting loose. To an extent, anyway.” Vince calmly stepped closer to Sam, watching for any movement. The acid was still something to be wary of, but those claws were dangerous too. Awareness was Vince’s biggest weakness; if he missed an attack then he couldn’t defend against it. Against someone like Sam, one miss could be enough to cost him the fight.
Sam started forward like he was going for a charge then leapt up again, floating overhead and sending down a spray of acid. Vince threw up another orange shield to block it, painfully aware that this fight had cost him a fair bit of Thomas’s energy, and started to look toward the ground where Sam would land. Something stayed his eyes. Sure enough, when he looked back up he saw that Sam had sprouted modest insect-like wings that had previously been hidden on his back. They weren’t enough for proper flight, but they did allow him to alter his course mid-air, sending him crashing right toward Vince. With a quick step, Vince leapt back just in time to miss a pair of clawed hands trying to rake over him. For a moment, he and Sam were only a few feet apart, far enough that neither could launch a melee attack but close enough that something ranged would almost certainly hit. It was the window Vince had been waiting for.
