—Chapter 23—

—Offspring—

The first screen played a recording of Kellan…

Inside of a limo. The same rusty, neon-lit ride that Sen had tried to summon for them to ride around in. The camera filming was mounted to the roof, and pointed straight at Kellan’s bemused face.

That was the Eye of the Arbiter, Kellan thought, the realization hitting him hard.

The huge theater screen, hovering around the football field, changed the recording to show Kellan and Mavis in front of the flower shop. An Eye of the Arbiter had been recording him from across the parking lot, mounted to some sort of streetlamp.

Kellan watched himself slam the open Pestbyter with a rock, cracking the red crystal inside.

“Wow,” Bitso said over the microphone, his voice filled with amusement. “What an unbridled act of aggression! This sad sack just attacked the Pestbyter right in the metaphorical groin. What a low blow.”

Booing filled the dark audience of the stadium, their disapproval creating a rumble all its own. When the Arbiter shifted his weight on the edge of the pit, Kellan felt the tremor of his weight and power.

The video continued.

Mavis drove a truck around the side of the building and slammed into the Pestbyter going as fast as she could.

“What’s this?” Bitso asked as he grabbed at his blindfold. “Did our sad sack have an accomplice?”

The irritation from the audience spread like wildfire. Were they calling for Mavis’s head as well? Kellan crane his head around, trying to find someone to reason with.

There was no one.

He was in the middle of a gigantic field, watched over by a colossal machine dragon, held in place by two hovering sphere robots, while a lunatic news anchor narrated everything like he was a ringmaster in a circus.

Who was there to reason with? Who could Kellan beg to spare Mavis?

The enemies of logic were all around him.

“What’s that?” Bitso said as he glanced up at the massive dragon. Hot steam gushed from the Arbiter’s mouth as the dragon exhaled. Bitso smiled wide. “Don’t worry, ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between! The Arbiter has decided that the accomplice needn’t be questioned. She wasn’t the one who dealt the killing blow.”

Had the Arbiter spoken? Kellan hadn’t heard any words, just the low groans of gears and pistons. Could Bitso interpret what that meant? Did the audience understand the Arbiter? Kellan wasn’t sure.

Then Kellan watched himself use a garden hoe to repeatedly strike the Pestbyter. Over and over. Until the Pestbyter finally stopped moving and gushed out its three arcana. Then the screen showed Kellan kneeling over the machine and absorbing the arcana for himself.

“Oof,” Bitso said, tugging at the collar of his suit. His eyes were still blindfolded, yet he reacted to every detail on the screens. “That looks pretty cut and dry. What a blatant rule violation. This chump must want to die about as much as I do, am I right?”

Bitso motioned to the Arbiter.

With his breath trapped in his chest, practically burning his lungs to escape, Kellan waited, unable to exhale.

Then the floating screens flickered and flared to life with another recording.

“What’s this?” Bitso moved around the field, the spotlights following him. “We have more footage the Arbiter wants us to see?” Bitso placed a hand over the microphone and “glanced” in Kellan’s direction. “Did you kill two Pestbyters or something? Look, I don’t want to tell you how to commit suicide, but just putting a bullet in your own head might’ve been more efficient. I’m just sayin.”

Confused, and still mired in dread, Kellan watched the screens with rapt fascination.

The video played a scene from the back alleyways of the futuristic warehouse.

Kellan spotted the black wolf man attacking the two kids, Hua and Twi—the boy with the tumor, and the girl with teeth so misshapen, he could even see them in the recording.

“Leave our f-family alone,” the boy, Hua, shouted.

The audience in the football field quieted as everyone watched Kellan step out of a narrow alleyway. Kellan lifted his cursed rifle and fired, striking the wolf. The resulting fight wasn’t something Kellan was proud of…

The beast wheeled on Kellan, knocked his gun away, and then proceeded to rip him apart. Kellan molded the metal into the werewolf’s body, and managed to prevent his regeneration, but most of the fight involved Kellan on the ground, bleeding to death.

Even at the end, crimson wept from most parts of Kellan’s damaged body as he staggered around.

“P-Please,” Hua said on screen. “Don’t hurt our family.”

Kellan shook his head and waved his hand. “Get out of here. Before some other murderer shows up. Hurry.”

The Eye of the Arbiter had been recording the fight from above, at an angle Kellan hadn’t seen. The eyes… They really were everywhere.

Watching.

Listening.

Kellan wanted to glance around the football stadium to see if he could find any more, but he knew it was currently impossible.

The video continued on until the kids ran over and handed him a single arcana. But right before they handed it over—and it became golden—the video ended. Blip. No more footage.

The Arbiter exhaled another mountain of hot steam, his machine-body clanking from the movement of gears.

Bitso, awash in the mist for a long moment, chuckled. “Wow, what an interesting turn of events.” His voice boomed across the silence crowds. “It seems that even the Arbiter can feel sentimentality for his children. That’s right, folks—most forget that the denizens of the Nexus descend straight for the Arbiter himself!”

Descend from him? Kellan thought, his eyebrows knitted. They’re his offspring?

For a short, hesitant moment, Kellan glanced up to stare at the Arbiter. The dragon had his head angled in Kellan’s direction, steam rushing between the cracks of its sharp fangs. Was the beast trying to speak to him?

Kellan couldn’t understand, and he quickly glanced away, hoping the dragon didn’t take offense to the staring.

With a showman’s flair, Bitso lifted a hand into the air and smiled. “The Arbiter will allow this sad sack to compete in the Nexus Games! What a sad turn of events—but at least it’ll be interesting for the rest of us!”

The cheering that rose to meet his statement hurt Kellan’s ears. He finally exhaled, his lungs threatening to burst. With deep breaths, Kellan felt his tension and anxiety leave him, though not enough to feel comfortable. The Pestbyters kept their hold on his arms absolute.

Bitso strode across the grass and walked over to Kellan’s side. His sleek suit didn’t match his bloodstained blindfold, nor did it complement Bitso’s sharpened molars—the news anchor has a sharp smile that looked similar to a shark’s.

Now, when he wasn’t so panicked, Kellan managed to see the information of his Blitzkrieg Analysis.

Name: Bitso, Unwilling Servant to the Arbiter

Race: Human

Magics: Storm, Fate

Rank: A, A

Armor Rating: ---

Health: 7

Stats: Concealed

Abilities: Concealed

With a twist of Bitso’s hand, the Pestbyters released Kellan.

Bitso moved the microphone away and leaned in close. The smell of his expensive cologne filled Kellan’s nose.

With curious pokes and pats, Bitso felt up Kellan’s upper arm. “Trembling still? A tough guy like you? That’s adorable.” He chuckled and poked at Kellan’s shoulder. “You’re filled with disgusting Tyranny Worms, though. You’ll regret that once you’re in the can. A pity.”

Kellan managed to calm himself, but not enough to regain his full composure. The crowds out in the shadowy stands were still filling the arena with noise. Were they angry that Kellan had gotten to go free? Or were they intrigued? Kellan couldn’t tell.

“Listen, between you and me, the Arbiter doesn’t care that much about his mutant children—they’re a little past their expiration date, if you catch my drift.” Bitso smiled wide, his face inches from Kellan’s. “But the Arbiter is impressed you managed to get some gold arcana. Good job. He really liked that. Keep it up, and the Arbiter might even call you back here for some prizes, you get me?”

Kellan didn’t know what to say. He stared at the other man, still reeling from the dread of the over-the-top trial.

“Oh, and if you ever find me outside of an Oasis…” Bitso sighed wistfully. “Would you mind killing me? I’ve got sixty arcana for you if you manage to plant several bullets of your cursed rifle right between my eyes. Good deal, right?” Bitso patted Kellan’s upper arm. “I won’t even fight back. It’ll be amazing for the both of us. I promise.”

“I…”

“Just think about it. And why do you look so confused? Like an envelope without an address.”

“Can I… even still register?” Kellan whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the Arbiter’s machines and the shouts of the audience. “Time’s up.”

“Ha! So punctual. Don’t worry about it, sad sack. You’ll get your chance to jump in the blender. The Arbiter has given you his blessing.”

Before Kellan could reply, Bitso brought the microphone back up to his mouth.

“Do you have any words for us, sad sack?” His voice once again boomed across the stadium. “Something to instill fear into your competitors? Or maybe to entertain the masses watching at home? Something insightful?”

Bitso practically poked Kellan in the face with the microphone—like he couldn’t see, because of the blindfold—but Kellan was still confused on the issue.

“Merry Christmas,” Kellan said into the microphone, literally unable to think of anything clever to say.

The response from the audience was mixed. Excitement. Anger. It was incoherent. Kellan couldn’t tell what had upset them.

“Huh,” Bitso said. “I’m not familiar with that phrase. Is it a thank the good stars I’m not dead saying from your world? Merry Christmas indeed, am I right, sad sack?” Bitso slapped Kellan’s again, and then pointed to the far end of the field—beyond the bloody crater and to the metal double doors. “Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

Kellan stumbled one step, and then managed to turn around and head for the doors. The heat of the overhead lights beat down on him worse than summer sunshine. He was already sweating by the time he moved twenty feet away.

“Next up, we have this unruly girl! A real degenerate, if you ask me. Play the footage!”

More cheers. More rumbling.

Kellan stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. The floating screens played footage of the girl with the copper scales and tail. She leapt from one dilapidated roof to another, clearly searching for something. The camera didn’t have a good angle—it was on a light pole, far from the lizard-girl.

With claws on her hands and feet, scurried over the roofs. Her jeans and jacket combo restricted some of her athletic movement, like she was accustomed to the clothing, or as if they were too small.

Then a Pestbyter showed up on the screen.

But it was injured and cracked… Sparks flew off the machine in regular spurts. It barely spun through the air, creeping toward the lizard-girl. She froze—like an animal caught in headlights—but when the Pestbyter attacked, its laser hit a nearby building, breaking some bricks and actually damaging itself with falling debris.

The girl then leapt forward and attacked with her claws and fangs, biting at the red crystal inside the open sphere of the machine. That was the last of its health, apparently. It collapsed shortly afterward.

The girl had barely done anything.

Kellan turned around, waiting to hear the decision. She doesn’t deserve death for that.

“What a bizarre series of events,” Bitso said with a laugh. “This Nexus Games is going to be more fail videos than epic duels at the rate we’re going. Or maybe just a series of one-sided beat downs. With men like Brenner Hawke around, you know we’re going to have a bloodbath!”

The audience laughed, cruel, dark, and manic.

Bitso motioned to the Arbiter. “What say you, Lord of the Nexus? Has this punk sullied your beautiful realm?”

The crowds went silent as they waited.

The Arbiter turned, its gears and pistons grinding with hatful metallic sounds. But the dragon didn’t turn his attention to the girl—he faced Kellan.

Bitso whirled around, smiling wide. “What’s this? Sad sack stayed to watch the death of his competitor? Good news! The Arbiter said you saved two of his children, so he’ll let you decide the fate of his punk!” Bitso rubbed his hands together, more blood staining his blindfold, turning the white fabric a dark red.

More spotlights homed in on Kellan. He shielded his eyes, but it was still entirely too bright to see.

Bitso walked over to the lizard-girl. She was restrained by two Pestbyters, her arms held above her head. With wide eyes, she glanced over her shoulder to get a good look at Kellan, her whole body trembling.

Bitso yanked her left hand from the grip of the Pestbyter. “What’s this? She’s part of Team 89? Yikes. Losing a member this early in the games is a terrible turn of events! How hilarious!”

More laughter.

It was starting to grate at Kellan’s sanity.

He stepped forward, his breathing ragged. “Let her go,” he shouted. His voice barely penetrated the cacophony of the arena.

But Bitso heard.

He immediately stopped laughing and turned to face Kellan. “What was that, sad sack?”

“Just release her,” Kellan said. “If I get to decide—that’s what I want. I want her to go free.”

The crowds obviously hadn’t heard his decision yet. They continued to laugh and cheer, like they might finally get to see more blood.

Bitso stepped forward, his smile waning. “She’s your competitor. Surely you want to have an advantage against her team, don’t you? That’s just good sense.”

Kellan couldn’t even deny that. It probably was good sense. But he really didn’t know. He didn’t know the details of the Nexus Games, or what was expected of him—or the lizard-girl—or anything else going on. All he really knew was that he didn’t want to watch her get smeared across the football field like the Ren Faire guy had.

And if saving the two kids had paid off for him, perhaps this would as well?

“Just let her go,” Kellan said. “That’s what I want. I don’t care who she is.”

The Arbiter gushed more steam onto the field. But instead of doing anything further, he slid back into the enormous pit he had emerged from. His exit left a wake of wind, disturbing the floating screens and even the Pestbyters.

The pit remained a black void with occasional smoke wafting up from it.

The audience didn’t understand—their confused shouts and questions rang throughout the football stadium.

The Pestbyters released the lizard-girl. She stumbled forward, clawing at the grass to get her footing.

Bitso held up his hand, trying to gain the audience’s attention. “Apparently, the Arbiter is sparing two people so they can participate in the games! What an unusual—and terrible—gift!”

The hot spotlights and frantic shouting still bothered Kellan. He turned away and jogged for the far doors, hoping to make it back into the halls of the AVU Palace.

If I’m lucky, I’ll never have to see the Arbiter ever again…