Soot, rubble, and debris clouds the center of the arena battlegrounds. Instead of a deathmatch, we have one hell of a mess. Spectators scream in shock and terror, scrambling and panicking away from the scene. Chaos!
The haze clears. I spot silhouettes of three distinct figures, two people and... a bird-woman? No freaking way! I think the Sirens' mind-gas grenade is still messing with my head. Still, that monster can't be legit, are they?
The silhouettes form and materialize, but the bird-woman figure disappears.
My vision is still fuzzy, but I can spot two figures, a boy and a girl.
Both of them are identical in outfit, save for the color of their loose-fitting informal neckties. They wear sunglasses over their eyes and an unzipped black trench coat with a white untucked buttoned shirt underneath, baggy gray slacks, and black street shoes with white laces. The girl has a red necktie with orange flame motifs while the boy wears a blue one with white snowflake motifs. She also has a black baseball cap with the foil stickers still on it and white earmuffs that resemble drooping rabbit ears. The boy has coiling goat-like horns protruding from the sides of his head. What a peculiar cybernetic augment, I ponder.
A metal sleeve-like contraption augments an arm of the two. The girl's sleeve is on her right arm. The boy's sleeve, on his left. Two actual hardcover books, not reader tablets, appeared attached to pocket-like compartments. One tome on the bicep and another on the forearm. Holding with their unaugmented arms is an ornate black binder with a third hardcover book attached to it.
"Who the hell are you?" Rayne asks with glaring skepticism, lurching forward to the two mysterious children.
"Are you Ari Kagura?" the boy asks Rayne, a sense of urgency coating his voice.
"No, that would be her." Rayne gestures to me.
"Excuse me?" I peer into the face of this strange boy.
The girl jerks her head, gazing at me. "Yo, you look like an Ari. At least based on the description The Doc gave us."
"The Doc?" I scratch the back of my head in confusion. I've met many scientists and other scholarly individuals at the CrystalCorp campus where the Valkyries stay and train. That could be anybody!
"We don't have a lot of time to explain." The boy gasps. "You need to come with us."
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
Instead, hooded Eyes cultists barge into the arena, guns and blades at the ready.
"Stop right there, Remnants scum!" a cultist yells.
"Proceed no further and surrender!" another one demands.
Remnants scum? I wonder.
The girl turns her head to the boy and chuckles. "These guys don't give up, do they, bro?"
"Nope!" the boy says as he opens a book, and, with a whirl and a twirl of his fingers, a rift opens. He dunks his hand into the portal and pulls out an ornate canister-like object. He slams the item right on to the ground. On impact, the canister shatters and spews a thick purple smog, hampering our visibility.
A blade flashes, followed by screams of pain.
Something taps my foot. I glance down and notice the head of a dead Eyes cultist next to my boot. "Shit!" I mutter, almost retching. I activate the heat sensors on my cybernetic eye, and I can't believe what I'm seeing.
The cultists are dropping dead. Their limbs and heads dismembering from the boy's expert swordsmanship. With one dashing cut, five guards split in half, disconnecting torso from the waist. Like a legendary samurai of ancient times.
Next to the girl is a giant lumbering creature, lanky like a twig, with scrawny arms and long nails. The creature lurches forward and, with one brutal slash, obliterates a wave of guards in front of it.
"Ari," Rayne yells, "we need to bust out of this joint!"
"Agreed, but where to?" I gasp.
The girl puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. "Oh, now you want out? In that case, follow us!"
It's not like we have much choice. So Rayne and I agree to follow the two strange children as they lead us out of the arena.
We progress down the walkway towards the halls, and my vision clears as the smoke dissipates. The two children and the allied creature appear clear and visible.
Both are shorter than me and have pale skin. Horns on the sides of the black-haired boy's head, as odd as it seems, appear real, like actual horns from a ram or goat. The white-haired girl, who lost her ball cap, has authentic-looking white bunny ears, the tips colored black. As we progress through the arena's hallways, both kids swap in and out books from those pockets on to a metal binder, allowing them to summon unique creatures or conjure strange weapons.
The twig-like monster is tall, about two and a half meters, I think. Its skin looks brownish-gray and splintered, like an ancient tree. The limbs resemble petrified wood with claw-like hands. A living tree of some sort. This person-shaped tree wears brown, tattered, mismatched fabrics patched together to form a skirt. A lush green wreath around its neck wraps like a scarf, and the skull of a deer with large menacing antlers serves as a face mask.
Another wave of cultists barge in, attempting to stop our escape. "Hold right there, you fae misfits!"
"Fae misfits?" Rayne questions, head tilted in confusion.
Fae? I wonder. When I was a kid, my adoptive mother would tell me stories of strange fae folk. She mentioned these fae look like children, but have an affinity for animals and live inside trees. It sounds crazy, and I never thought of them to be true. Just plain faerie tales. If these two kids are fae, I wonder who their boss is.
The boy turns his head to the girl, smiles, and grips his hand on the hilt of his blade, unsheathed a couple of inches. "Samza, you and your Leshy pal get to that side. I'll get to the other side."
"Sure thing, Mezos," the girl says, while commanding her tall, tree-like companion.
Samza and Mezos. I jot a mental note.
Mezos's head jerks forward, his left foot back, and his right on the front. He unsheathes an inch. A strange gust of wind cuts and whirls around him. He mutters in a monotone voice, "Behold! From the hands of the wild kami himself, Susano." In just a blink, Mezos dashes forward. The sound of a violent clash of the blade echoes and reverberates off the steel and concrete walls of the arena hallways. In less than a second, he appears behind the five mutants. He concludes his monologue with a quiet drawl: "Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi." He sheathes the blade back into the open rift from his book. And then the vortex closes.
A second later, blood gushes out, and five more collapse and die. Just like that. All in one quick snap.
My face turns white in shock, perhaps whiter than the skin of both strange children in trench coats. How? Did this boy just legit cut five burly guards in half with only one slash? There is no way that could happen! No way in hell! I mean, he has ram's horns coiling out of his head. He's not human. I want to scream. Yet not a single word escapes my lips. Speechless.
Rayne's face mimics mine, her jaw agape. "How the hell did he chop up those wankers?"
Meanwhile, the guards on Samza's side scream in terror as the giant tree monster's powerful branch-like claws tear up the guards like mincemeat.
With an arrogant grin, Samza chuckles. "Those guys ain't shit on us, yo."
And then we press on.
After three minutes of running, we find ourselves in the arena's lower section. It seems to be some long hallway. Concrete and steel span along the sides. The length is wide enough for a truck to drive through it. A siren wails and red lights strobe around the halls triggered by the current emergency. Littered on the floor are guards and cultists, knocked out, bloodstained, and impaled with arrows and daggers. It seems Samza and Mezos are not alone. Someone else must have raided this part of the facility during the attack.
As we push forward, I take a quick passing glance at how the security crew died. Few fell to gunshots, but many dropped to whizzing arrows and flying knives before our arrival.
Rayne picks up a knife and inspects it. "I recognize this insignia."
I look at the knife and notice the letters LC engraved in cursive on its hilt. "That's Livia Cerayle's insignia."
"Yes, but she died a few months ago from a freak car wreck."
Livia Cerayle was one of the Sirens' top tacticians. Yet, her knives are here. Why is that?
Rayne asks the two. "Why are we down here?"
"We're here to gather some data," Samza says with a wide grin. "The good shit!"
I pull a knife and a used arrow from the fallen guards while continuing onward down the lower halls, both weapons stained with blood. The arrow's shaft, the diameter about as thick as my thumb, feels cold like steel. For its length, it feels light. The arrow's head appears screwed on. I unscrew the head. Just as I suspect. The arrow is hollow.
Yet, the silver knife is short, pointed, and serrated on one side. Black leather straps cushion the knife's hilt for a comfortable grip. Light and simple.
We reach a steel door. The sign next to it says SERVER ROOM, stenciled in military-like capital letters.
Samza turns the nob, but the door doesn't budge. "Obie," Samza says to the tree-like giant, "bust open that door!"
"By thy command. I shall break this open." The wooden giant barges through the door with a violent shoulder tackle.
All of us enter the low-lit room full of racks of computer equipment. Lights from the hardware flicker and blink at no particular rhythm or beat, like broken Christmas lights.
Samza spots a workstation nestled between two racks. The holographic screen displays a prompt, asking for a username and a password. The girl jams a stick-like device on the computer's data port, and the username and password fields fill in without pressing a button, granting immediate access to the machine. "Watch my back while I break into their servers," Samza says as she pulls out a flash drive from her inner coat, connects it to the workstation, and downloads the files on to the device.
"How long?" Mezos yells.
"About two or three minutes," Samza answers. "They will know we're here. We have to act now."
The guards aren't here yet. That gives me time to ask, "Okay, why are you two after me? Who sent you guys?"
Mezos jerks his head to me and answers, "The Doc wants you."
"The Doc?" I inquire, my brows punching down in curiosity. "Can you be more specific?"
"She claims to be your mom," Mezos says. "I don't know. I don't see the resemblance. Your face looks kind of Asian-ish with gold-tan skin, while The Doc is black like mahogany." The goat-horned boy shrugs. "And your hair is white like marshmallows while The Doc's hair is black and always tied back into a neat bun. You appear odd unless she adopted you, or you came from an interracial family, or something."
I pause for a moment. A sudden tingle clicks in my mind. It feels like I'm supposed to know this person. A black Doc-woman who claims to be my mother, I wonder. My eyes close, and I bite my lower lip in sudden frustration. A brief image of a dark-skinned woman with glossy black hair materializes in my mind. A younger me lies in my bed as she tells me a bedtime story. I snap, realizing my time for reminiscing is not now. I say to the boy the first name that sparks in my mind, "Dr. May Lynn Williams?"
Mezos says with a shrug, "Oh, so you know her? Great!"
I haven't heard from Dr. Williams in a while. I used to live at her foster home four years ago. She was the closest thing to a parent to me. Dr. Williams is not my actual mom, but then again, I don't even know my biological parents. The Doc and I hung around a lot. She'd take me to the movies, go to the mall, tell me stories — lots of stuff! It's cool. She even served as my home-school teacher. Then, after I joined the Valkyries and lived at CrystalCorps' dorms, I heard she died. There was no news of her passing. It must have been a cover-up. Perhaps she might be the one who organized this breakout. I can't help but wonder about it.
I grit my teeth. "Okay, Mezos. Let's get to work."
The giant, leshy creature twists and groans. Out of nowhere, a flock of crows caw and a river of snakes slither.
"What the hell is that?" I ask, gasping.
"Friends," Mezos answers. "Obie has a thing for crows and snakes."
Mezos is right. In that instant, a murder of crows flies into the server room. They congregate on the arms and shoulders of the leshy giant. Two seconds later, snakes intertwine around the leshy's legs and waist.
"They're coming!" Mezos shouts. "I can hear them."
"Give me two more minutes," Samza says, hammering at the virtual keys of the holographic keyboard. "Apparently, this workstation has a lot of relevant data."
Fifteen seconds later, hooded guards arrive. "Surrender! You have nowhere to run!" the guard commander yells.
The leshy creaks around to face the horde of guards.
Lesser guards take one step back in sudden fear.
"Commander, what is that thing?" a guard yells in panic.
"Don't mind that beast. It's a trick! It's not—"
The leshy delivers a backhanded blow towards the commander's face, launching the commander back, whirling in the air, and landing face-first on to the concrete floor.
"Commander!" another guard yells. "You tricksters! You'll pay for this!" Then the guards glow red and begin transforming. Some of them resemble bear-like hulks, while others develop wolf-like features like paws and canines.
I ready my triggerblade and prepare to battle.
"Ari," Rayne says, sounding agitated, "you're seriously not going to fight alongside them, are you?"
"We have nowhere to run," I say, glancing around, spotting no other means of escape. "Besides, these fae folk know someone that I knew from long ago."
Rayne shakes her head. "I will regret this, mate. I will not let you die here from these wankers. Besides, I still have to kick your arse in the War Games." The Sirens' captain prepares her gunblade.
"Well then," I say, smirking. "How about this? Let's keep tabs then."
"A kill-count, Ari? You are one mad lass!" Rayne grins while shaking her head.
The leshy unleashes its horde of crows and commands them to scatter around the guards.
A guard breaks from the group and pushes past the leshy.
I rush in, delivering a flurry of slashes, taking out The Eyes' mutant cultists. Then I activate the trigger, sending out a powerful concussive blast, knocking a hulking guard back, slamming that one against the wall.
Rayne spots another group coming up and extends out her custom gunblade forward, firing bursts upon bursts of lead at the adversaries, taking them out in quick succession.
Mezos conjures another relic from his book, a gold amulet composed of circles overlapping a triangle, thus forming some eye in the middle. An ice-like gemstone sits in the middle of it and glows a brilliant blue hue. "Wanna see a trick?"
A guard's rifle opens fire at the five of us, yet the bullets reflect and bounce off us like rubber balls. How?
Unreal, I think. Mezos's magic can do that? I snap back to reality and engage in another flourishing clash and gnash of blades, taking out more guards. The bodies keep piling. One deep, rocket-powered slash and the Eyes cultist splits in two, separating the torso from the hip. Gruesome, but necessary.
"Thirty seconds!" Samza yells.
The leshy lurches forward, and — a stray bullet knocks the deer skull mask off the leshy's face and lands right near my toes. A loud bellowing scream reverberates around the server room, and, with lightning-quick reflexes, the leshy lashes out with its branch-like claws at the nearby guards like a savage berserker. It turns its face, which resembles a disheveled old man, towards a guard near me and grits its gnarling sharp teeth, dripping with the blood of the fallen guards, and its bloodstained beard-shaped foliage. The irises of its black, beady eyes glow red and fix its gaze on the nearby mutant cultist. It charges forth, claws out, turning the cultist into mincemeat.
The remaining guards scream in agony and terror. Scattered, scared, and disorganized. Many retreats out of the server room. Those who stay eat steel and lead.
"All done!" Samza yells as she yanks out the flash drive from the data ports of the workstation. Soon after, she spots the nearby security camera, gives it a vulgar one-finger salute with both hands, and prepares to bolt. "Time for extraction."
"Right!" Mezos says, motioning me to follow.
Samza recalls her leshy creature, and it disappears back into the pages of her book. We blaze through the halls and out the stadium's back door.
I continue to follow the two fae children for about five minutes until we arrive at an open parking lot.
"Looks like we're early," Mezos says. "Our ride's not here yet."
Samza glances ahead towards an unpaved road and points, "Just in time, actually!"
A red sedan rolls in on its way to our area — a Dodge Charger. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a police vehicle with markings blending in with the car's color. Maybe it's an undercover car. The vehicle stops next to us, and the driver-side window rolls down.
The driver, a black man with a patchy box beard, thin-rimmed sunglasses, a brown beanie on his head, and a gray scarf around his neck, hollers out, "Get in, ya crazies!"
"Sure thing, Charles!" Samza says, taking the front passenger seat. Meanwhile, Rayne, Mezos, and I take the back seat with me in the middle. Then we roll off.
Two minutes later, Samza turns her head to me. "You look wasted."
"Exhausted perhaps," I say to the rabbit-eared girl.
"You should take a nap," Mezos says, teeth grinning.
Before I can answer, a sharp sting pokes my side. I wince. A few seconds later, my vision blurs, and everything turns black.