—Chapter 27—

—Rules for the First Games—

“The numbers you see are just a representation of your abilities,” Sen said as he dragged himself to the side of the spa. Strength is obviously raw physical strength. It represents your ability to deal physical damage. Dexterity is your fine motor skills and speed. It represents your ability to aim, dodge, and precision.”

He spoke with the engagement of a dictionary.

“And fortitude must be your stamina and endurance?” Mavis asked, interjecting. “I get it. I don’t need an explanation of the words. I don’t understand the numbers. What does a 2 mean for strength? A 2 out of what? Is this like a score for a movie?”

Sen held onto the side of the spa and sighed. “Look, most sentient races are born with limited abilities. Humans tend to start with stats between 1 and 5. If you have a 1 in strength, you’re weak. At the bottom 10% of noodle-y arms.”

“And what does a 2 mean?” Mavis asked.

“A 2 is considered average. Most humans fall into that range.” Sen held up a hand in dramatic fashion. “But a 5 is legendary! A 5 would be the strongest human you can think of! A titan among humanity. A person with muscles in places most people don’t even have places.”

“Curtis Blaydes?” Mavis asked.

“Arnold Schwarzenegger from the 70s?” Kellan quipped.

“Sure, whoever those are.” Sen put his arm down and sighed. “You can use magic and technology to elevate your stats beyond 5. If your stat is between 6 and 10, you’re in a new category of power and recognition. 11 through 15 is the next tier of power. 16 and above is considered some of the best of the best.”

Kellan hadn’t seen many people’s stats. He had his, Mavis’s, Levvy’s, and… Brenner’s. Of those, Brenner’s were ridiculous. He had 20 in both strength and fortitude. I only have 4 and 3 respectively, Kellan thought. Which means I have a long road if I’m going to compete.

“What about willpower?” Mavis asked. She moved through the glowing pink water until she was next to Sen. “It seems different then the other stats.”

Sen smiled. “How perceptive of you. Unlike all your other stats, willpower is a representation of your inner drive. It can’t be altered through magic or technology—it can only be increased through your own actions and perception of reality. Think of it this way—the more you believe in yourself, and follow through with your own plans and ambitions, the higher your willpower will become.”

With a huff and a laugh, Husker said, “Self-doubt and depression often cripple a mage’s willpower. And willpower is your ability to defend yourself from some magics and mental afflictions. It’s best to keep a positive outlook.”

Kellan sardonically laughed to himself. In a nightmare world, the brightest thing around was the radioactive glow from the Arbiter’s mouth. The Nexus was the epitome of gloom. How was he supposed to maintain a positive outlook?

With a quick touch of her leg, Mavis smiled. “Well, I know I got down on myself after the grenade… But now that you healed it, I feel like a whole new woman.”

“Fantastic,” Sen drawled, very little caring in his voice. “I’m so glad you feel better.”

“I mean it. I really appreciate what you’ve done. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

For a long moment, Sen said nothing. He just hung onto the side of the spa, his small child-like hands gripping to the marble. With a small exhale, he leaned a cheek on the stone.

“Thank you,” he muttered. “I specialized in the study of anatomy specifically to master flesh crafting and puppet creation. Very few people understand the costs associated with such skills.”

Mavis sank into the water, all the way to her chin. Her purple-dyed hair spread away from her, flowing into the spa. “You gave me a point of fortitude. Why not give me points to all my stats? Why not do it for everybody?”

“Because it permanently takes from me,” Sen snapped. Then he pulled himself out of the spa, his robes half-clinging to his body and half-dragging behind him, like a drowned bride. “Every stat I give someone not only costs me a year of my life, but an arcana, and one of my own stats. I can’t just make people better.”

He slowly marched back into the suite of the AVU Palace, no more words for anyone.

Mavis glanced over at Husker. The wolf offered a shrug.

“It’s bets we get inside,” he eventually said. “While the spa is comforting, we don’t want to be outside for too long.”

Kellan didn’t need to hear any more. He didn’t like being outside—not when their enemies were all around them. Apparently, several people wanted to see Xiang fall, and that meant they wanted to see him fall.

With quick movements, Kellan leapt out of the spa. He went to offer Mavis a hand, but she smirked at him and then leapt out of the spa as well, clearly proud of her regained ability to just stand. With a twirl, dripping pink water everywhere, she motioned to her leg.

“Refurbished,” she joked.

“Now with extra flesh from a kid’s shoulder,” Kellan added in a salesman’s voice. “Just what everyone is lookin’ for.”

With a chuckle, the two of them turned to Husker. He dragged himself out of the spa, his wet fur and chains weighing him down. Once out, he shook his whole body like a dog, flinging water everywhere. Kellan shielded his eyes and frowned.

Then Husker tugged on his pants and headed for the suite, still dripping water.

“You’re not concerned about getting the place dirty?” Mavis asked.

The werewolf shook his head. “It’ll be cleaned. Don’t worry about that.”

He walked inside, headed for a random bedroom, and then disappeared into it without another word. The silence that followed reminded Kellan of too many horror movies. Even the celebrations outside seemed to have calmed down. The music was soft and distant, and there was still in the air that brayed a collective nervous tension.

Mavis turned to him, half her purple hair wet. “Can I stay with you tonight?” With a flustered twinge to her voice, she added, “Not anything serious. I just don’t want to be alone here. You understand, right?”

“Of course,” Kellan said. And although he didn’t voice it, he didn’t feel like being alone at the moment, either.

He motioned to one of the unoccupied rooms, and together they crossed the giant living space. Mavis opened the door, and they entered into a luxurious room that was just as posh as the central living room. Black rugs, a four-poster bed, thirty pillows, and a mattress the size of a small island.

But unlike a normal bedroom, with a dresser or some sort of personal space, this room had nothing. Except a gigantic TV mounted to the opposite wall of the bed. It had to be at least 80 inches. Kellan stared at it as he strolled inside.

While Mavis patted the soft blankets, Kellan tapped the power button on the bottom of the TV.

It flickered to life.

Kellan recognized the scene. It was Bitso’s newsroom, this time more advanced and clean than before. Bitso’s desk was silver and shiny, his cuffs had been polished, and the screen behind him played images of people using magical abilities.

Someone created a storm.

Someone else disappeared and reappeared elsewhere.

And then someone slid into the darkness, slithered across the ground, and emerged from the shadows a moment later. Kellan watched that bit with intense interest. He hadn’t yet tested out his focus ability.

“—and based on past accomplishments and training, we currently have the top three teams,” Bitso said with his usual flair. He fixed the white blindfold over his eyes, so that it was a bit snugger than before. “Obviously, we have Team 42, whose leader is none other than Brenner Hawke, the man who has a kill ratio of one-to-seven-billion. Too bad he didn’t get arcana for all those kills, am I right?”

Bitso laughed and then turned to his left, like he was supposed to have a co-anchor, but no one was there.

Not even an empty chair.

When Bitso’s laughter finally calmed down, he turned his “gaze” back to the camera. “Team 5 is the second team of the top three teams likely to win the games. Their leader, the Nexus resident who goes by the name Nosferatu, is the only M rank mage registered for the event.”

The screen behind Bitso showcased a deformed man wearing a stylish Italian-style suit. He stood in the middle of a destroyed city, bodies and wreckage intermingled in piles all around.

The man’s deformities consisted of boils, lumps, and lesions, though nothing wept puss or blood. His hair was thin—barely there, like the hair on a cactus—and the man’s eyes were milky pale.

The man had all the charm of a corpse.

“Nosferatu is such a classy individual,” Bitso said. He rubbed his own clean suit. “It makes me sick.” He slammed a fist down on his desk, smirking. “This is one of the few times the Arbiter has allowed a resident of the Nexus to compete.”

Then Bitso tensed and glanced around.

“What’s that?” he asked.

But no one said anything. Even the screen behind him, showing off the footage, was muted.

“You want to know what magic he’s M rank in?” Bitso held a hand to his ear. But again, no one was talking. “Oh, that’s simple, my friend. Metal magic. Rare for someone of his breed, I know, but Nosferatu has made a name for himself crafting magi-tech. He has some of the most powerful artifacts I’ve ever seen.”

Mavis hopped on the side of the bed, her damp clothes squishing as she moved. The bed was so gigantic, she barely disturbed the mountain of pillows. “Are you enjoying that?” Mavis patted the blanket. “Come see this. I’ve never seen silk like it.”

“I’d like to know more about the other teams,” Kellan absent-mindedly said. He kept his attention on the TV as he backed up to the bed. Once his legs touched the edge of the mattress, he sat down. “You don’t find this fascinating?”

“I find it a little morbid.” Mavis rested back on the bed, her gaze on the ceiling. “Husker said that in some of the games. We’re going to have to fight each other. I don’t really want to imagine it just yet.”

Kellan watched as Bitso played more footage of Nosferatu, but he didn’t understand it. The deformed man was just holding objects—little avocado-shaped metal orbs. What were they? Why bother filming it?

“You don’t want to know what we’re up against?” Kellan muttered, his brow furrowed.

“Apparently, we get stronger by killing things.” Mavis crossed her arms over her chest. “I just get the feeling this is going to get… It doesn’t matter. Husker said we should focus on resting. If I think about it, I won’t be able to sleep at all.”

“You and Husker getting along?” Kellan couldn’t pull his attention away from the TV.

“You know that hex he has? His father took it. His father wanted to kill someone, so he accepted a legacy hex that would kill everyone in his family. And once his father died, Husker inherited the problem. He doesn’t seem like a soldier. He reminds me of a scholar. I feel sorry for him.”

Bitso slammed his hand on the desk. “The third team most likely to win is none other than Team 101.” He motioned to the screen behind him, and an image of Xiang flicked into existence. “Sun Xiang’s team is a ragtag band of randos, from what I hear. As the daughter of the last winner, most bookies placed her number one to win this round of the Nexus Games, but her complete lack of magical advancement over the last few years has hurt her chances.”

With a dramatic frown, Bitso turned to his imaginary co-anchor. “Maybe she’s sad she lost her mommy.”

Silence.

Then Bitso threw his head back and laughed. It died down into chuckles before he managed to add, “Oh, yes. That’s a good point. Maybe it’s because she lost her family, her lover, and her mentors, all in one fell swoop.” He shot the imaginary co-anchor some finger guns. “But don’t worry. I’m sure she has a few tricks up her sleeves.”

Mavis ran her hands over the silky blankets. She stared at the folds and wrinkles. “I’m serious, Kellan… Do you see this?”

Although he didn’t want to look away from the TV, he managed to glance back long enough to see what had excited Mavis so much.

The silk blankets…

They shimmered. Beautifully.

Then information flashed across Kellan’s eyes.

Magical Item [Object]—Dreamweaver’s Blanket

This blanket is made from dreamweaver silk. Upon touching it, the mage makes a hidden willpower check. If the mage’s willpower is lower than the dreamweaver the blanket was crafted from, they become entranced. Every six seconds, the check is made again, but the dreamweaver’s willpower is considered 1 higher (which continually stacks, +2 after twelve seconds, +3 after eighteen seconds, and so on). This occurs until the mage is eventually entranced.

It’s so soft. You just want to sleep on it.

“Mavis,” he muttered.

“Yeah?”

“I think… the bed might not be good.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

But…

He couldn’t really look away from the blankets. They were black, and silvery, and so soft. Too soft. Invitingly soft. Kellan rested back on them, his breathing evening out.

So lux. So kingly. Kellan loved this bed. He didn’t normally care for beds, or random material objects, for that matter, but this bed…

He would die for this bed.

That’s such a stupid thought. Kellan laughed to himself. The bed… It’s already tricked me. I…

Kellan closed his eyes. And then sleep took him.

***

“Good morning, Fayetteville!”

Kellan jerked upright, his breathing ragged. Where was he? With wild movements, Kellan glanced around, confused by the dark rubs, posh bed, and gigantic TV. His dreams had been so pleasant and vivid, that he thought the Nexus had been a nightmare.

Unfortunately, he was still in the AVU Palace.

“This is the morning news!” Bitso shouted from the TV, all smiles and laughter. But his suit was wrinkled, his wrists were bloody around the cuffs, and his blindfold was smudged with darkness. Had he been hosting the news all night?

“I’m your designated host, here to deliver you information straight from the Arbiter.” Bitso giggled and then motioned to the screen behind him. “It’s 8:30, and it’s time for the rules of the first games. Is everyone ready?”

Kellan stood from the bed, his whole body crusty and grimy with oils from sleep. He slapped his cheeks, trying to shake his grogginess. Fatigue clawed at his thoughts.

“Each team leader will have three game types to choose from,” Bitso said, excitement in his voice, even if he appeared ragged. “The first game is Seek and Destroy. What a fun one! The rules are simple.”

Bitso waved to the screen behind him.

It displayed a cityscape, much like Fayetteville, but it was all a simple diagram. Tiny houses. Little roads. Nothing more than a display.

“The Arbiter will hide five keys inside the bodies of five bunnies. He’ll then set them free within the designated area. Each team who participates in this game will have a single day to find the bunnies and extract the key.”

Mavis sat up from the bed, her purple hair all over the place. He rubbed at her head, her eyes crusted with sleep. She groaned as she turned her attention to the TV.

Bitso snapped his fingers. “But there are a few interesting twists! The Arbiter loves twists, after all. The first is the Net. Like most games, the play arena of the Seek and Destroy game will have a Net around it.”

The screen displayed a crimson net around the city. It created a dome shape, but as Kellan watched, the dome… shrank. It became smaller and smaller, narrowing until the play arena was just a few blocks wide, instead of a whole city.

“The Net is fun,” Bitso said with a laugh. “Any living flesh that touches it… Instantly dies.”

The screen showed an animated bird running into the crimson net. The moment the bird came into contact with the net, little Xs appeared on its eyes, and then it collapsed to the ground, upside down.

“But non-living objects are unharmed.”

The net slid over buildings, but nothing changed afterward.

“Additionally, each team will need to pick a Straggler.” Bitso held up a finger. “Just one. And this is the funny part. Listen close. The Straggler will be hunted by a Kuji.” With a lunatic-style giggle, Bitso clapped his hands together once. “I love the Kuji. They’re so delightfully creepy. And silent. They’ll stalk the Straggler until they die. And once they do, the role of Straggler will be automatically passed to another on the team. Until they’re eventually all dead.”

Mavis stopped rubbing her eyes. She stared at the TV, her mouth slightly agape.

“There’s sad news, though.” Bitso sighed. “Once a team finds a key, their Kuji will die. Boo.”

Kellan watched the screen, hoping he would get a glimpse of a “Kuji,” but nothing ever appeared. What were they? Could they be killed?

“One more rule,” Bitso said. “Seek and Destroy is strictly PvE—player versus environment. Teams cannot fight each other. Those who do will be instantly disqualified. And the Arbiter will end you.”

“Wait,” Kellan said. “That means…”

“Which brings us to the second game this round. PvP Seek Destroy. That’s right! PvP—Player versus player. In this mode, the Arbiter will hide forty keys in forty bunnies! All the other rules still apply, except, the instant you find one, you must defend it for one hour. Once you do, you win! That’s right. Teams can fight each other. Find a bunny? That might be too hard! Kill another team instead!”

Forty keys? Kellan already knew why there was a difference. If all one hundred and one teams did the PvE Seek and Destroy, only five of them would walk away with keys. Not enough for everyone. But there were so many keys in the PvP game… If less than forty teams signed up, there wouldn’t even be a need to fight each other.

“The last game is a game of chance,” Bitso said with a grin. “It’s called There’s Four Doors and One of Them Has a Key, But Another One Has Certain Death, Have Fun With That.” He slapped his hand on the desk. “Not very creative, I know. But the Arbiter loves his chance games. And only one person has to open the door. Guess who? That's right! The Straggler! The suspense is so delicious.”

“Is this guy serious?” Mavis whispered.

Kellan half-shrugged. “I think so.”