There now exists a world where the colour of your blood defines you; and there certainly isn't much room for different in the year 2138.
Suki Kione has known for a long time now that there's a clock on her life, one that runs a lot quicker than that...
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What happens next I almost lose sight of considering all the confusion. There's a long pause first, one so thick that an elephant could sit in it, then the crowd roars. It's a pure wail of fear. I struggle to grasp onto why they would be reacting this way when it hits me, literally ... well almost.
A ball of fire burns through the air with a direct course for the area in front of my chest ... where the man is standing. Without thinking, I launch my wounded hand out to pull him out of the way, hating the squelching sensation of our genetics mixing and Kai does the same, leaving the two of us in his place.
We realise that this was a silly move (putting ourselves square in front of a ball of fire) when heat is moments away from searing our skin. Our hands whip out in front of us in an attempt to save most of ourselves from damage, but a blue glow erupts from our palms, forming a two second curtain of frosty-protection.
Wow!
"What just happened!?" Kai gasps, staring at his hands like they just shot ice from their cores.
Oh wait they did ... we did!
We aren't given a single moment longer to marvel over what we've done, because another loud roar sounding strangely familiar to a war cry erupts over the stadium.
What could be a hundred people dressed in mismatched items of clothing run into our midst. Some have bubbling spheres of water and earth spinning in their hands as they yell. Others hold up guns and staffs that strike fear into me faster than when I see my mother angry. The Watchers hardly waste a second to react to the chaos, lifting their weapons and hands to stand up to the disturbance. At first I considered the fact that we're being attacked by one single division, but I definitely see all powers at work here.
I notice two egg-like items thrown into the air and then they hit the stands exploding in a cloud of smoke over the audience.
The man we pushed out of the way almost tries to look angry at us for intervening, but his discomfort simmers down uncomfortably. I glance at the other Pukkas, now having left their position backed up against the outskirts of the stadium as the unnamed strangers try to man-handle them. A girl rushes to me, air dancing by her left palm and a large knife in the other. If it weren't for the orange-red hair on her head and the mischief-loving expression on her face I would have freaked out.
"Stitch?" I gasp, as she drops the wind-ball and grabs onto my hand, rushing me off.
"The one and only!" she says with an unnerving smile on her face. "Fancy seeing you around here," she says, still pulling me after her.
"Wait," I cut in. "Where are you taking me?"
"To safety ... unless you'd rather die, because that could easily be arranged," she responds, trudging off and slicing, different sized gashes into otherwise distracted Watchers who are already facing off with others.
