“How much longer until we’re there?” Rudra asked Eztli Silverwater, one of the people guarding him at the moment.

“If we make good time, we should be there before nightfall,” the man replied cordially. Rudra sighed with relief at the news. After weeks and weeks of pushing through brush, sleeping on the ground, and not taking baths, Rudra was desperate for whatever counted as civilization for these people. His whole body felt like one giant rash.

Rudra had lost count of how many days he’d been in this accursed wilderness. At first he’d thought that the trip would take a few days, maybe a week. He’d been wrong. Each day seemed tougher than the last. What started as annoying and impeding foliage grew thicker and thicker until half of the group had to constantly cut a path through the plant life just so they could proceed forward. There were days where they had to stop and hunt to replenish their food supplies. There were days where it rained so hard that the forest floor became a treacherous swamp, where each step felt like walking through quicksand and one unlucky move was all it took to trip over a hidden root and fall face-first into the mud. And then there were the migrations.

Initially, Rudra had not understood why the Stragmans cared about migrations so much that they seemed to have encyclopedic knowledge of each and every mass movement that happened in the forest. Then they’d had to stop for one. Hiding with everybody in a modest cave that they’d blocked off with some small boulders, Rudra had watched as a veritable tide of venomous lizards swept over the surrounding area and didn’t stop. Hundreds of thousands, nay, millions, of the meter-long creatures passed by the cave. Only three days later did the last of them pass and the group resume their journey.

Still, everything could have been even worse. Things had changed rather dramatically since the incident in the Weald of Lords. The group as a whole seemed to have decided that he wasn’t as bad as they’d initially believed, and his treatment had changed for the better because of it. People actually talked to him now and he got to learn their names. The group leader, Votan Stonefist, only assigned two people to guard him these days, and they didn’t seem ready to jump him if he so much as sneezed like they had before. Rudra wasn’t sure if it was because they trusted him more for saving the Shell or because his feat of strength had impressed them, though he somewhat doubted it was the former. Perhaps they’d just decided that if he wanted to make a break for it, they had no chance of stopping him. They were wrong, but Rudra had no hope of convincing them of that. You can’t have a superpower and expect people to treat you normally.

Then again, it wasn’t like he was alone. Every person in the group had displayed some level of superhumanity during the preceding weeks. He’d seen spontaneous fire and wind appear from nowhere. He’d watched several of the Stragmans, as he’d learned they were called, run and jump many times faster and farther than what should be possible for even the greatest Olympic athlete. What made his feats any more special than theirs? Even the Shells seemed capable of some fairly impressive deeds. Why didn’t the others give them any of the respect he was suddenly receiving? He wanted to just ask somebody outright, but it seemed like a touchy subject and he could never seem to find the right opportunity for it.

Eztli’s prediction came true as their group began to encounter patrols that afternoon. Rudra’s enhanced hearing picked up several puzzling phrases in the overheard conversations, none more puzzling than “the city arrived less than two days ago”. How could a city move?

“So if we’re almost at the city, why are the trees here so large like in the Weald of Lords?” Rudra asked the talkative guard. “Won’t there be huge monsters here too?”

“Oh no, the reason the Lords live there is because of how close it is to Ruresni.” Ruresni. He’d heard that word before. If his guess was correct, it was their name for the impossible tree that stood at the center of the forest. The one that rivaled the mountains of Earth. “If a Lord were ever to come out here, it wouldn’t be too bad anyway. The Hono would take care of it, or the Chos if it’s really strong. The real threats to the city aren’t the solitary big ones, it’s all the little ones. A lot harder to stop a swarm than a giant.”

Soon enough, Rudra found himself amidst a swarm himself. A swarm of people, that is. Perhaps to keep up appearances, the guards went back up to six as soon as they entered the city. The teeming mass of bodies pressed in around them, impeding their progress severely enough that several members had to move out in front and start yelling and clearing a path. Like the group that he’d been traveling with, the vast majority of the people surrounding him had the ears and tail of some sort of animal. Some people stared at him as he passed by, six blades pointed at him from every direction, but most seemed to be too wrapped up in their own business to bother more than a passing glance. A cacophony of conversations assaulted his ears, each melting into the next. With effort, Rudra was able to make out some pieces of individual conversations as he went by.

“Where’s the next piece of the roof?” “I think Mulac put it over by the support beams over there.” “One of these days we’re gonna have to teach that asshole that we have a fucking system where we put everything.” “Only reason he even has this job is because he’s the son of a Blou.”

“So your daughter is of age this year, right? You worried?” “Oh no, we’ve taken her out hunting a bunch of times now. She’s strong enough to take down a barloc all on her own! You should have seen her during the Test of Strength. She was the top in her group!” “Oh my, that’s quite impressive! She might even make it into the advanced exams like that.” “Oh, that would be wonderful! I would be the proudest mother in Stragma!”

“So I said to him, ‘I know a good place where we could be alone for a while, if you know what I-’ aww, shit.” “Oh no! It’s everywhere!” “Ugh, my clothes are going to smell all day unless I go change. Let’s go back.” “Aren’t you going to clean it up?” “Nah, that’s what the Shell’s for, isn’t it?”

As he continued in, Rudra found himself flabbergasted by the city’s layout. While any other city would stretch out horizontally, Pholis stretched upward instead. Built in a giant grove of humongous trees, the Stragmans had constructed what was basically an entire city of organic skyscrapers. Hundreds of platforms protruded from the massive trunks, rising high into the sky, and on each platform stood a home. A maze of rope bridges that seemed almost like a massive spider’s web connected platforms to each other, larger hub platforms with larger bridges, and hundreds of elevator platforms. Commercial buildings like stores and taverns, in the meantime, were on or near the ground. Rudra marveled at the insanity of it all.

Still, his construction background meant that he couldn’t help but notice that the city seemed... incomplete. Everywhere he looked, for every five completed buildings he noticed one currently being assembled. ‘Assembled’ was the correct term in his mind, as they reminded him less of solid, permanent structures being built from raw materials and more like some sort of assembly kit where walls, floors, and everything else were discrete parts that snapped in and out. Nearly every single structure he saw featured this assembly-driven design, with some rare exceptions on the ground. Perhaps the notion of an entire city moving wasn’t as crazy as he’d first thought.

He also couldn’t help but notice that the vast majority of the people laboring to assemble the remaining buildings were Shells. Observing the strange underclass, he found that few if any of them appeared malnourished. He also didn’t see anybody lording over them with whips or anything like that. Still, there was a resigned weariness to them that bothered Rudra, like they lived life under a perpetual sigh.

“We’re here.” Votan’s words pulled him back to the present. They stood outside a complex of buildings, the largest and most complicated he’d seen so far. Was this place, capable of holding thousands, really something that had been transported from somewhere else into the middle of the forest? How did they move it all? People, each holding a weapon of some sort, flowed in and out of the facility’s many entrances seemingly nonstop, all in some rush to do something or other. He and the group entered a large door on the right, one that seemed ignored by most of the other bustling Stragmans. Inside Rudra found a nondescript room, with some chairs and a table and several doorways that led elsewhere.

“You six stay,” Votan told the guards. “The rest of you report to the patrol office for the usual follow-up and payment. Good job, each and every one of you.”

The others did as he instructed, filing out the door with weary but jubilant grins. The guards remained, as did Votan’s second in command Itotia Stormcloud, the woman whose hearing was good enough that she seemed to be able to hear his heartbeat.

“Itotia-blou, you get everything set up. I have to go report this up the chain.”

“Of course, Votan-blou.” The woman led Rudra and the guards down a long hallway and into another room with several people sitting behind desks. They all looked up as the group entered. “I have a prisoner here for immediate interrogation under the orders of Commander Votan Stonefist-blou,” she stated.

The people in the room immediately flew into action. One of them ushered them all through a door behind him, down another hallway, and into a dark room that contained nothing but a single, rough wooden chair. “Sit down,” Itotia instructed him. He did.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, one of the clerks from before entered holding what looked like a long, stretched-out mongoose in her hands and handed it to Itotia, who stepped forward and placed the elongated mongoose on top of Rudra’s head. The furry critter scrabbled around on his head before wrapping itself around his skull and letting out cute little squeaks. Rudra fought back a wince as the fuzzy animal dug its claws into his scalp slightly as it struggled to steady itself.

“This is a wruelit,” she explained. “Wruelits have the greatest sense of smell of any animal ever known. So good, they can even be trained to smell lies. You can control your face and your heartbeat and your breathing, but you cannot control your smell. If you try to deceive us, it will know and it will get rather upset.”

Rudra tried to pet the chittering beast, but it bit down on his finger hard enough to draw blood. “Ow! So now what?” he asked.

“Now we wait for the rest of the party to arrive.”

Another few minutes passed. The atmosphere in the room had become tense, and the only noises breaking the silence were the wruelit’s soft squeaks. Suddenly Rudra picked up on some footsteps outside the door and Votan entered the room, followed by a smaller man with curly orange-brown hair and bushy tail of the same hue. Itotia immediately went stiff.

The new man looked over Rudra and let out a whistle. “That’s quite a specimen you got here,” he remarked with a smirk.

“General, this is Itotia Stormcloud-blou, by extremely capable second-in-command. Itotia-blou, I’m sure you recognize General Caprakan Bloodflower-hono.”

“I-it’s an honor, sir,” the woman stammered.

“Now now, no need to get so uptight,” the General said, waving nonchalantly. “I’m no different than the rest of you. Save your anxiety for when my wife shows up.” He chuckled.

Now everybody in the room stiffened.

“The... the Chos is coming here?” asked a suddenly nervous Votan.

“Of course! Interrogating a possible Masked Battalion member, one that’s actually alive? Nothing in the world would keep her from this. You know how much she hates the Drayhadans. Speaking of which, with her and me here, there’s no need for guards. I’d rather keep what happens in here between as few ears as possible.”

“Of course,” replied Votan. He nodded towards the guards and they all shuffled out, disappointed. As they left, Rudra heard some sort of commotion coming from down the hall. Several moments later, in stepped the largest person that Rudra had ever seen. Rudra himself stood at almost exactly two meters tall, but she dwarfed him with ease. She carried with her a massive wooden club nearly as tall as her as easily as if it were made of paper. Her predatory gaze made him feel like a helpless little mouse before a tiger. This was a woman who owned every room she entered.

Everybody else in the room bowed. She walked over to the general and smiled. “You’ve brought us something very interesting, Commander Stonefist-blou. Well done.”

“T-thank you, Chos. Your words honor me greatly.”

“Tepin, are you ready?”

Tepin? Looking about, Rudra noticed that one other person had entered the room and he’d been so preoccupied by the giant that he hadn’t noticed. Beside the massive woman stood a second woman who seemed to be nearly her exact opposite. Small and frail, she looked like she could be knocked over by a harsh glare. Floppy silver canine ears stuck out of her short, silver hair, while a silver dog’s tail hung limply down between her legs. Dark bags stuck out on her pale, sickly skin. The only signs of life Rudra saw could be found in the woman’s harsh, judgmental stare. Her eyes glowed with intelligence, and he could feel her measuring every inch of his being, analyzing it, pulling back the curtain in search of the man hiding behind it. She also bore no markings on her body. A Shell.

“I am ready,” the tiny woman said dispassionately, a brush in one hand and a board with some parchment stretched across it in the other. A small inkwell stuck out of the bottom right of the board.

“I can’t wait any longer!” the giant woman cried. “Let’s go!”

“Very well,” agreed the general. He motioned to the group leader and his second. “You two have the best grasp on what happened, so you begin. We’ll step in when the time comes.”

“Yes sir,” said Votan. He cleared his throat. “Let’s start with the basics. What is your name?”

Rudra looked up at the soft creature latched onto his head, sniffing away. His ears picked up the sound of Tepin’s brush swishing across the parchment, recording what was about to happen for posterity. Time to finally clear things up. “Rudra Kapadia.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty years old.”

“Where are you from?”

“New Delhi.”

“I’m not familiar with that town. What country is that in?”

“India.”

The group looked at each other and back at him, or specifically at the wruelit chilling on his dome.

“India is... not a country.”

“No, it is not a country here. I’m from a different world.”

An awkward silence settled throughout the room.

“Should we try a different wruelit?” asked General Bloodflower.

“This is just...” The general rubbed his temples in exasperation. Three hours had passed and they were on their third wruelit, this one a cute shade of pink. Everybody looked as tired as Rudra felt. “So you just... woke up here. In some cave in the side of the Divide.”

“For the last time, yes. Except it wasn’t a cave. It was built.”

“And when you went back, the entrance was gone.”

“It must have closed or something. Maybe it was hidden. I don’t know what happened.”

“And you don’t know anything about ranutepo migrations.”

“I still don’t even know what they are.”

“If what he’s saying is true, we have to send a team to investigate,” the general said to his wife.

“I agree. And make sure there’s at least one earth and stone Observer. If there’s something hiding under there I want to know what it is.”

“What if it was built by the Metalshapers, like the Valley of the Mist or the Cavern of Voices?”

“Then they stop and come back. But if it’s elven, we need to know. Or maybe those bastards actually dare to defile the graves of the Metalshapers with their presence. You saw what happened when we had to move out of Krose early. We’ll be in huge trouble if they can break the balance of our migrations. We need to know if we’re vulnerable.”

“I agree.”

“Tepin,” the giant woman said.

“Yes, Palebane-chos.”

“Set up an expedition like we just discussed. Make sure there’s the proper Observers on the team.”

“As you command, Palebane-chos.”

“So Rudra,” the general said, turning back to the sitting man. “If we were to let you go, what would you do?”

“Take a bath.”

The general chuckled. “Fair enough. You need it. But I’m talking more long term here.”

“I don’t know.” Rudra shrugged. “I don’t know where I am. I don’t know anything about the world. I don’t know what opportunities would be here for me. I don’t know enough about anything to make a decision yet. I don’t think I would even be able to make it out of here without somebody’s help, so a lot about what I do or don’t do depends on what you will allow.”

“Don’t you want to go home?”

“I...” Rudra stopped and thought for a minute. “I don’t know. There’s isn’t much there for me anymore. And even if there was, I wouldn’t know how to go back anyway.”

“Enough of this depressing shit! Let’s talk about something much more important!” the Chos exclaimed. She eyed Rudra with a hungry smile. “I hear you’re strong.”

“More! More!” shouted the Chos.

Rudra stood in what he’d been told was Akhustal Palebane’s private training chamber, a large hall made entirely out of stone, holding giant blocks of wood over his head while the massive woman grew more and more excited. Every so often she’d grab another block and toss it on top of the others like it was made of styrofoam. At first he wouldn’t feel the extra weight. Then suddenly the burden upon him would grow dramatically, like the wood had turned into concrete. Was this some sort of magic wood? Six blocks he currently supported felt at least twice as heavy as the tree back in the Weald. The weight was starting to bother him, though not as much as the way the Chos was practically drooling at the sight of him carrying the weights.

“Incredible!” Palebane exclaimed. “This is just... impossible! The twenty greatest Feelers in Stragma combined wouldn’t be able to do what you’re doing!”

“Can I be done now?”

“No, no, let’s see how far you can go!”

“Honey, look at him. He’s exhausted,” chimed in General Bloodflower. “You’ve had your fun. Let’s finish this up.”

“We should put him in the advanced exams!”

“Sweetums, slow down. He just got here.” Bloodflower sighed. “Let me talk to him. It’s getting late, you need to sleep for the ceremony tomorrow.”

The air seemed to come out of the large and now dejected woman. “Oh, alright...” She grabbed her massive club and walked out. Suddenly, the wooden blocks above Rudra lightened immensely and he let them crash to the ground to his side.

“I’m sorry about that,” the shorter man said. “Nothing gets her more excited than strong people, and you’re the strongest person any of us have ever seen. Let’s cut to the chase. Stragma has always been a society that values the strong. We want you on our side. You need a place to settle down. If you become a full citizen, we can provide you with a house, food, whatever you need. You use your strength for the good of the country. We both benefit. How does that sound?”

Rudra thought about it for a moment. He didn’t want to paint himself into a corner option-wise, but he didn’t see any other choice. This was the only island of civilization in this endless sea of trees. What choice did he have? Maybe he could go elsewhere later, but that was a question for a different day. “That sounds acceptable.”

“Wonderful. There’s one other step that needs to happen before you can be officially inducted. All Stragman citizens must pass two tests before they can be a Fleg, which is the lowest form of citizenry. You missed the Test of Strength but nobody will make a fuss if we just pass you through that, not after what you just did. What’s left is the Test of Courage, which will be held tomorrow. I don’t see why you’d have any trouble with that either.”

“Sounds good.”

“There’s one slight wrinkle. Akhustal-chos wants to nominate you for the advanced exam, which you by right are allowed to decline.”

“What makes it different?”

“It’s tougher, for one. But other than that it’s pretty much the same, except it happens at night and the entire nation watches through the Manys. The advanced exams is where the best and brightest of the upcoming generation of Stragman citizens get to show their stuff before the whole country. Those that make the best impressions get sponsored by a Hono, or even the Chos, which means they get to skip being a Fleg and become a Blou right from the start, working under their sponsor.”

“And I would want to be a Blou?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a much better life than being a Fleg, trust me. Not as good as being a Hono, of course, but graduating from Blou to Hono takes a long time and a lot of notable feats. Same, to a lesser extent, with Fleg to Blou. That’s why if you can just skip it, you absolutely should.”

“You think I’ll do well enough to get a sponsor?”

“Are you kidding? My wife has practically sponsored you already. That’s a tremendous honor. All you have to do is just complete the Test of Courage to make it official. I’m sure you can do that, no problem.”

“All right. I’m going to need some new clothes, though. By the way, what happens if you fail one of the tests?”

The man paused for a second. “Those that cannot show strength or courage lack the essential qualities that make a Stragman a Stragman. They are empty inside. That is why we call them the Hollow. Most people these days tend to call them ‘Shells’.”

“I can’t say I’ve been impressed with what I’ve seen of their treatment.”

“They’re lucky that their presence is tolerated at all. Long ago, Shells were killed for their failure. There is no place for the weak in Stragma. The forest does not allow it.” With that the man left, instructing two guards to show Rudra to his temporary home. Rudra just watched him leave, unsure of what to think.

The sound of tens of thousands of voices chattering expectantly filtered through the thick stone walls and into Rudra’s ears. He and some other examinees stood in an antechamber, waiting for the ceremony to begin. To pass the time and ignore the many stares pointed his way, Rudra inspected the smooth walls of the amphitheater. Unlike nearly all the other buildings in Pholis, this was a permanent installation. So much about it seemed to defy the principles of construction. It didn’t feel built, but rather grown. Even though he’d seen other things that defied his understanding since his arrival in this world, this place really drove home just how different this world was from what he had always known. This was a different normal, one he didn’t fully understand just yet, and one he wasn’t sure he liked very much.

The stares were getting to him a little. It couldn’t be helped; he just stood out too much. It wasn’t the color of his skin, as a variety of skin shades could be found throughout the group. Nor was it the fact that he was human. While the majority of those around him sported some sort of mammalian ears and tail, Rudra estimated that perhaps a quarter of them were normal humans. Well, as normal as you could be with hair every color of the rainbow. No, what set him apart was his height and his age. He towered over the rest of the people, none of whom looked to be over sixteen years old. He was every bit the outsider, and he felt it.

A door opened and people began filing out of the room. Rudra joined the queue near the back and proceeded through a long hallway before emerging into the arena. The noise of the crowd grew until it became nearly deafening as he exited the hallway, thousands of voices cheering and hollering as the examinees climbed up onto a stone platform tens of meters wide rising up from the ground in the arena’s center.

Together the examinees lined up on one side of the platform and faced the center. The crowd began to clap as one, chanting and clapping in rhythm, their volume and fervor growing and growing as Akhustal Palebane, clad in pelts and furs and still carrying her massive club, ascended to the platform on the other side from Rudra and the others. Behind her followed an older man, walking respectfully to the side and behind her, and behind them came a procession of people who assembled on the other side of the platform facing Rudra. He noticed that they were older than the kids on his side. The Chos began crossing the platform and then suddenly stopped a 3rd of the way across, violently thrusting her club into the air. The crowd suddenly went silent.

“We are the people of the forest!” she roared, her voice booming out to everybody in the theater via some sort of magical amplification.

The crowd responded with a single short, emphatic shout.

“We are the strong!”

The crowd shouted again, and continued to do so after every one of the woman’s hollered declarations.

“We were the outcasts! The homeless! The hunted! We were those who were unwanted! But we are outcasts no longer! Homeless no longer! Now we are the hunters! We are wanted! We are the forest! By the blessings of Ruresni, we thrive! No matter the danger, no matter the hardship, we will survive, because we! Are! STRAGMA!”

With a brutal finality, the Chos slammed her club into the ground, cracking the stone and sending tremors through the entire platform. The tens of thousands of people in the stands went absolutely wild, cheering so loud that Rudra thought his eardrums were about to burst. The Chos simply stood still for a moment, soaking in the crowd’s adulation. After a moment, the crowd quieted down a little and Palebane spoke again.

“Tonight we will show proof that the might of Stragma will continue into the future! Tonight the most promising of the next generation of Stragmans will showcase their will! Let the Test of Courage begin!” The crowd erupted. Akhustal turned and walked to the side of the platform, standing halfway between the two lines of people. She pointed to the young man at the end of the line, just two positions away from Rudra. The boy walked out towards the center of the platform and bowed to Akhustal Palebane. Meanwhile, his counterpart from the other side walked out as well, bowed to the Chos, and took a fighting stance. The boy entered a stance of his own.

Rudra’s stomach sank like a stone as he realized what was going on. Of course this was what the Test of Courage would be. He should have realized it earlier.

Without warning the young man rushed his opponent, who backpedaled, a length of vine growing out from his hand into a long, barbed whip. He struck at the boy, who blocked it with his arm. A complex dance of violence followed, the boy trying to rush in while the older man kept him at bay with his whip, but Rudra was no longer paying attention. He was too focused on what would happen when his turn arrived.

The match ended suddenly, when the boy purposely let the man’s whip wrap around his arm and grabbed hold tightly despite the piercing thorns, pulling the man to him instead. They traded blows but the boy’s strength was obviously much greater than the older man, and the man went down quickly after several punches to his head and gut. The Chos slammed her club down once, signaling the end of the match, and the boy raised his bloody fist in triumph, basking in the crowd’s vocal approval.

The boy returned to his spot and the girl to Rudra’s side stepped forward, bowing to the Chos. Another man, her counterpart, joined her, and in just a few seconds their battle had begun. Blasts of steam shot into the air as the two blasted each other with balls of flame and jets of water. The man’s water slowly pushed back the girl’s fire, until one of her fireballs collided with a water jet close enough to her that the resulting steam left her side badly burned and she fell over. Palebane thumped the end of her club and the bout ended. The girl pushed herself to her feet, gritting her teeth through the pain, and retreated to her spot in line to a smattering of applause. For somebody in such pain, she didn’t seem too upset. Perhaps victory was not required to pass the test.

Rudra knew it wouldn’t change what was about to happen either way. Palebane point in his direction, an eagerness shining in her eyes, and he obeyed. The crowd’s excitement grew as he strode out to the center of the platform. Once in position, he turned to the Stragman leader and gave a slight bow. His opponent gave a larger bow and took a fighting stance. The crowd buzzed with energy now, as everybody waited to see how the new outsider would fight. Rudra looked around the crowd for a moment, then back at Akhustal Palebane’s keen gaze, and sighed. There was no way around it. As an entire nation watched, Rudra sat down and crossed his legs, resting his arms lightly against his thighs. Memories surfaced, unbidden but not entirely unwelcome. Time slowed as he recalled his past.

Rudra’s eyes opened slowly, the sun peeking through the window to his right and shining its radiance right onto his face. The soft sound of a song coming from a radio in another room drifted into his ears, mixing with the creaking of the slowly spinning ceiling fan above. His chest burned as he tried to take a deep breath and sit up. He coughed and fell back on his back again. Where was he? What had happened? Suddenly he remembered. He and his crew had gotten into a little tussle with another gang. The fight his side had won, technically, but he’d taken a few from a man with a knife and collapsed shortly after the fight was over. He looked down and found much of his chest wrapped in bandages.

“Try not to move yet,” said a strong, confident voice to his right. “I’m not finished dressing your stab wounds.”

Rudra turned his head to see the voice’s source, his head moving sluggishly, his body lethargic. In the doorway to the other room with the radio stood a woman about his age, a concerned frown on her face. His eyes locked with hers, and he saw within them intelligence and humor, but most of all compassion.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” the woman continued as she approached, bandages and other medical implements in her hands. “I stopped the bleeding, but you’re going to need to see a real doctor soon. Once I finish we’ll take you to a real hospital.”

A thousand questions popped into Rudra’s addled mind, but one stood above the rest. “Why?” he rasped.

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me?”

The woman looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Why wouldn’t I save you?” She began dressing another wound. “All lives are precious, you know, even if they don’t think so themselves. Hold still, this is going to sting.”

Rudra grimaced as the woman began dabbing the wound with hydrogen peroxide.

“I found you in a ditch down the road,” the woman said. “Did you get attacked? A robber?”

“No,” Rudra said after a moment. “We were protecting our turf.”

“We?”

“My crew. We all fought them off. We won.”

“Oh, this is what winning looks like? Bleeding out in a ditch on the side of an alley, abandoned?,” the woman replied, gesturing to his bandaged form. “Your ‘crew’ isn't as grand as you thought if they just left you there to die. If I hadn’t come along, you’d be gone by now.”

Rudra didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d always thought that fighting together bred loyalty and camaraderie, but it looked like he’d been wrong. To think the people he’d thought his mates had just dumped him by the side of a road...

“Can I ask you something?” the woman said, interrupting his thoughts. “Why do you fight?”

Rudra thought about her question for a good while. These last few wild, violent years, wandering the city streets with the rest of his crew, searching for a hit or a thrill... what had they really been for? “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I guess it’s just what I know.”

“Then learn something else. You don't have to stay the man you are today, forever.” She smiled a soft smile. “I’m Jaya, by the way. I’m training to be a nurse.”

“Rudra,” he said. “I’m... just a nobody.”

“Nobody is a nobody. There’s something inside of you that makes you special, I’m sure of it. You just have to find it.”

He scoffed, before grimacing at the pain he’d just caused himself. “Prove it.”

“You don’t believe me?” She stared him in the eyes defiantly. “Fine. I’ll show you. We’ll find it together. But that means you have to leave this life behind. All of it.”

Rudra gazed back, the determination and will in her stare nearly blinding him. She was beautiful, he realized. Not in an aesthetic sense, but in her soul. Willful, committed, caring, grounded, purposeful... everything that he was not, yet desired to be. Maybe she could help him find himself. Maybe she could show him the way.

He returned her gaze with a wry, resigned grin. “What do I have to lose?”

The memory faded as quickly as it came, nothing more than a flash in his mind. Rudra smiled a small, bittersweet smile, any regret he may have felt before now banished from his conscience.

Rudra’s opponent stared at him in confusion and didn’t make a move. Puzzled chatter bubbled up from the crowd, growing louder as the seconds ticked on.

“Rudra, what are you doing?” shouted an apprehensive Chos.

“I refuse to fight,” he stated, his voice strong and clear. Pandemonium erupted throughout the watching crowd at the preposterous declaration.

“What do you mean you refuse?” came the incredulous response.

“I am a pacifist. I will not harm another person.”

The arena descended into chaos.