The plate-armored cops poured from the ruins of the station. They reformed, armed with shitty old muskets, and found defensive positions.

There wasn't time to care. We had to get far, far from this crazy bitch.

We started off again, headed to the rows of houses. "Wh-where are we going?" Johnny asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"Where to?" I asked Vil. "The cathedral?"

Johnny shouted, "Who the hell is chasing us? Who even are you guys?"

As we sprinted through the residential blocks, Vil thrust an open palm at me. He didn't even need to ask.

Hmmm-click.

+1 Roll Duct Tape

I tossed them over.

He strapped Johnny in. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.”

Thoom! Another explosion.

Then, the unexpected. I felt a cold wind pulse through me. A spell! But... what kind?

I slowed and looked at myself.

"What's wrong?" Vil asked. He breathed hard, but he wasn't panting yet.

"I feel... like I'm being watched," I said.

Cassandra crackled to life. "Because you are. Your enemy is tracking you via Cosmic Field Scanning."

Fuck!

"Well?" demanded Vil. "What is it?"

"She knows where we--"

An engine roared, and a whole-ass battle tank ramped a nearby house, airborne, and slammed in front of us, scattering sparks, treads grinding across the dirt, and the entire thing sliding through someone's yard and into their living room. The roof of the small house spilled over the tank, and the turret took its aim at us.

Vil slung a fire spell to blind her.

The tank fired.

Houses exploded behind us, and we sprinted left, jumped over small fences, cutting through backyards, and through the next block.

Another tank shell screeched over our heads, and we ducked. A distant building exploded. We continued, soon turning a corner and finding a musketeer on horseback.

"Hurry!" he said. "Run to the coliseum! We'll mount a defense there!" He pulled the reins to yank the horse away just as another screaming tank shell slammed into the street.

Rocks and pebbles pelted us.

Maybe those cops weren't too bad. Using them as a distraction might be our only chance.

I gave a knowing look to Vil, and he returned it.

We hurried out of the residential block and into a commercial sector, made a left, then a right down an alley.

The tank slid out of another house--debris pouring off its hull, turret swinging to aim, that crazy slut laughing wildly, and the entirety of it flashing as it fired--not its main cannon, but its automatic machine gun.

Vil jumped in front to use his manashield.

I took Johnny and dove left, into a nearby furniture store.

Vil's manashield shattered just as he rolled inside behind us.

Tracing lines of fire sparked off the pavement behind us, and white-hot threads of light piercing the building as we sprint through, jumping over off-brand couches, knocking aside discount countertops, gunfire trailing behind us shredding everything into feathers and cushion and bits of fabric, and we crashed through the window glass and into the next street.

Right ahead, the coliseum. It was quiet now, dark, but the path inside was still lit by lanterns.

I pulled Johnny to his feet, and we sprinted. The building behind us cracked and crumbled as the tank cut through in its pursuit. I dropped another smoke to help, then another as we got closer.

A man waved us in, another royal musketeer. He held open the gate by its lever, and we slid inside to safety.

The gate slammed shut behind us with a rattle.

I stood and dusted myself off. I was... panting. I tended to do that when low on mana. Johnny and Vil were out of breath.

I looked back. The musketeer didn't follow us in. He just locked the heavy iron gate and left. For some reason, the tank didn't seem to follow, either. Instead, I heard its engine turn around and head elsewhere. Did we run her off?

"Redrim," said Vil. "This wasn't a good idea."

I looked around. The coliseum was empty. There were no cops, no soldiers, no musketeers, not even defensive sandbags. Just an open area of gravel and dirt, bits stained with blood here and there, and a single pole in the center, probably to tie up prisoners. Just a 50 meter or so wide circle for people to fight in.

I looked at the exits. There were supposed to be one in each direction, four in total. The South gate, behind us, was locked. But so was the East, the West, and even the North. The gates were down, but were they locked?

Vil ran ahead to check the East gate. He ran up to it, pulled up and shook it--no dice. “They’re enchanted,” he said. “It would take ages to cut through.”

I walked toward the center of the arena with Johnny behind me. Vil walked over to the North gate to give it a check. He gave it a tug, then turned and shook his head.

I looked over at the West gate, the only one left, and just as I did, it rolled open.

And right there, pulling the lever on it, was a royal musketeer with a shit-eating grin. Behind him, the tank, waiting patiently to join us.

I laughed darkly. "So it was to be a duel, after all."