After 12 months of intense preparation inside a broken world which felt like a cage, humanity was finally ready for round two. At Rachel’s mansion, the last day passed in silence.

Everyone slept through most of it and spent the rest making preparations. Just in case the time might have changed, Alric put on his green combat uniform as soon as he woke up.

On the left side of his waist was a large knife. On the right side was the fifth generation of the Glock 19 handgun. His pockets, all 14 of them, were full of bullets.

Of course, there were plenty more in his backpack along with grenades, provisions, and anything else he might need. While waiting in the dining room with everyone else, he kept the bag on his lap along with an assault rifle.

“Shouldn’t you be stretching?” Timofey asked when he arrived. Unlike the tired faces everyone sported, the pixie looked better than ever. Finally, he could help out his species, and the nightmares would stop.

‘I’ll also get back my body.’ In preparation for this, he had a tiny black green combat suit in his pocket that was almost identical to the one he currently wore. In case he would shrink instead of switching bodies, the pixie didn’t bother carrying firearms.

After some experimentation, he concluded that miniature bullets wouldn’t have enough powder to do any damage, so he opted for blades instead. Of course, shrinking could also make those obsolete, so he dragged over a sturdy, solid steel naginata polearm three times the size of his body.

“Can you even carry that?” asked Rachel.

“I will,” smirked Timofey. “Quite easily too.”

Some people nervously tapped their fingers on the tables, while others were on their knees praying. A few were playing cards, and even more were staring at the large clock on one of the walls.

“Let us meet again,” murmured Anders. Besides the much larger backpack and the standard guns, the man was holding onto a huge machine gun with one arm and a rocket launcher with the other. Would those even get transferred? He would find out soon.

[Are you bored, angry, or depressed? Are you dissatisfied with waiting and eager to test out your skills? Then, join round two of the Species Tournament!

Face off against unspeakable dangers in a foreign world. Test your might as well as your mind.

To sign up, please click the accept button below.]

[Accept]

[Disclaimer: The Deny option is not available.]

[59, 58, 57, …]

Every time they closed their eyes, the countdown was getting closer to zero. Everyone equipped their backpacks and weapons and stood up in silence.

“Remember: There’s no room for mercy where you’re going,” said Rachel. “If you get the chance to kill your enemy, do it. We need to get accustomed to combat or we’ll freeze when it matters most.”

Alric nodded while Timofey took in a deep breath. ‘I have to bring back this knowledge,’ he resolved himself. ‘No matter the cost.’

[10, 9, 8, …. 5, 4, …]

“Good luck,” said Alric with a steady smile. It was likely he would not meet these people again. While his new friends nodded, a white light enveloped them all. The once familiar room was gone, and a dreary cold cell took its place.

…………………………………………………………………………..

One bowl of soup per day: That was all Alric’s alter had eaten in the past year. Fortunately, it had plenty of weird looking vegetables and a large slab of meat which tasted funny. It appeared at what the youth assumed to be noon, at the same time as the feces bucket was replaced and an hour before water fell from the ceiling to clean up his body.

The chilling showers were never an option, and his meal had to be finished by then. However, on this particular day, both the water and his food were running late.

He knew this, even though there wasn’t a clock to tell him. He could feel it in his bones and in his growling stomach.

‘Is my mind playing tricks on me?’ It wouldn’t have been the first time. From hyper realistic dreams to nightmarish hallucinations, the youth had experienced them all.

Just as he was getting nervous, even stranger things started happening. His feces bucket disappeared, but a new one wasn’t sent in its place. Then, all around the cell’s perimeter, a large, disgustingly red circle began drawing itself. Finally, after the ring was complete, a flash of light filled the room before leaving behind his most hated opponent.

“Did you lose or win?” he asked though not entirely convinced the man was real. Unlike his bony self, this Alric looked like one of those football obsessed jocks he used to ignore.

His shoulders, arms, and legs were bigger, but not to a point where they would impede his movements. His facial features were still sharp, but it was now due to body fat percentage instead of just being skinny.

“I’m back…” the youth muttered while touching his back. The large backpack was gone as were the guns and his bullets. Only his clothes and the combat knife were left untouched.

“No s**t, Sherlock. Now, fill me in,” growled the skinny Alric while pointing at the circle. Though caught off guard, the other quickly realized their time was limited and offered a succinct retelling of the past year.

“One more thing,” he added at the end. “According to the demon host, only one of us can return.”

Suddenly, the skinny Alric’s expression took on a tinge of insanity. The teen was aware that he might never leave this cell. He had plenty of time to think about it. ‘Do I persist, or do I just end it?’ Suicide was an increasingly reoccurring thought.

Fortunately, he chose to wait. And now, here was his alter. Here was the circle. Here was his chance.

With a shriek similar to a pained animal, the 18 year old rushed towards his opponent. He didn’t have a plan nor did he care to prepare one. Pure rage ran through his limbs waking up every bit of strength his body had to offer.

Though the jock stepped aside in a calculated manner, Alric changed directions and slammed into his chest. There was a difference of at least 30 pounds between them, yet he still managed to push him.

‘It’ll work.’

Blinded by his emotions, the boy closed his fists and swung like a madman. Many of his strikes were parried or avoided, but to his delight, some did hit.

“Die, die, die!” he screamed hoping to knock out the bastard.

Suddenly, his jaw was smacked to the side. He felt sharp pain coming from his abdomen, the kind not even hunger could bring. Finally, his body was picked up like a sack of potatoes and smashed into one of the walls.

“Ha… Haha...” Although several bones were cracked or broken, a quiet, uncontrollable laughter seeped out of the youth. It hurt to laugh, but he did it anyway. Tears dropped down like tiny rivers, yet he still continued.

“F**k you,” he cursed while pointing at his alter. “You lucky a**hole; I hope you die.”

Since he was out of the circle while his adversary had yet to disappear, they were probably amongst the first to finish the test. This left them with a bit more time to talk.

“I’m sorry.” The winning Alric lowered his head. “I wish I could help you.”

“Bulls**t. You’ve done nothing but simp over that Rachel chick. A mansion party? Are you f**king kidding me!?”

“I’ll search for a way to get you out of here.” He knew these were just empty words, but he didn’t know what else to say. “If there’s a way to save you, I’ll find it.”

“Save your breath.” While sprawling on the floor, the skinny Alric started shouting obscenities at the ceiling. But then, when the circle shrunk down by another five inches, he suddenly stopped and turned towards his alter. His eyes opened wide and his mouth was half open. Though it hurt like hell, the youth pulled himself up and gave his opponent a renewed look.

“Are you really willing to do anything?” he asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Yes,” Alric answered immediately.

“Then, think about it. How do you get the demon to listen to you? He’s the producer and you’re just a nobody, but…” The skinny teen lifted a finger as if that would explain it.

“But what?”

“Did those muscles make your brain cells rot? Nobody cares about movie extras, so become Tom Cruise. Grab the audience’s attention, become the star of this sick show, and not only will those bastards bend over backwards to keep you around, but you can then start making demands.”

It was a simple idea, yet it had potential. The other youth started nodding the more he thought about it.

“That might actually…”

“Of course it will work, so just do it! You owe me, Alric,” said the skinny teen while resting on the wall. His ulterior motives were clear, yet his counterpart still wanted to try. When the light enveloped his body once more, the boy looked at his alter straight in the eyes.

“I’ll do it.”

A second later, he was gone and the skinny teen was alone. As he took off his worn down shirt to inspect his wounds, a large pentagram appeared on the ceiling.

Suddenly, cold water poured out and soaked him to the bones. A few minutes later it finally stopped, but the youth continued cursing for much, much longer.