“Name your foe!

The Sovereigns!

Name your foe!

The Sovereigns!

Name your foe!

The Sovereigns!”

- a chant, commonly voiced by young Proxies

Raja leapt off the ledge, his Chassis screaming a warning at him. He pulled his arms along his body and rotated in the air, neatly avoiding the missiles. Close.

Exhaust streamers formed beneath his feet, pushing him as he became airborn. Not a second too soon either. As he flew away he could feel the tell-tale drag of a gravity ward pulling on his boots.

Someone was in a mood.

Red-tinted auras sprung up in his vision. Numbers. 60%. 50%. 10%.10%. The lower ones were just fodder…but it appeared someone had sent Regials to hunt him.

He zigzagged in a meandering way and then teleported. His world narrowed, collapsing on itself. With abruptness he showed up on the ground, next to the screamhawks. His world slowed down, dopplered sounds echoing like tin. Crescent wings covered him, bathing him in shadow. Three heads turned to him, metallic feathers shining grey in the neon light. Their black beaks opened-

-and sound cut off.

The Kinetic Trawler was doing its job.

He manifested Au to his left hand and looked up to the ceiling, were someone was watching him. In the periphery of his sight, he could see the birds jumping, gliding towards him. He raised the third finger up and spun around; and the golden short-sword bisected the silent birds. The birds’ two halves careened on the ground, the sound strangely elongated, eliciting a series of sparks.

He nodded to himself. This was good work. Though, it wouldn’t do to become complacent. This was a simulation, not reality.

Yet.

He could see himself reflected in their chrome feathers; a figure like a knight, clad in gold. He made a note to his Chassis- another bout of polishing would do him good. And it would make Raja look even more beautiful.

Now, where were those Regials? He needed to finish this and get some-

The ground erupted. The floor rose in slow motion, spiderweb cracks forming in the manner of ice.

Raja reappeared high above the dust, halting gravity’s demands on him, falling slowly.

His vision began to dim on and off, a sure sign of jamming. “Visuals only,” he affirmed. His vision remained clear, but without the vectors and threat assessments provide by the Chassis’ software. ”Angry, are we?”

He appeared-

-in a space ten metres away-

-an owl-headed creature flew through the dust-

-he made his Chassis mirror his surroundings-

-and appeared in the dusty sections of the room.

Only then did he get a proper look at his enemy.

The drone had the head of an owl, the wings of a hawk and the body of a snake. At roughly twenty metres, but a tenth of the real size. Sejra, the Sovereign that held Mumbai. Raja bit down, blood spurting in his mouth. This had broken a line.

His perceptions were running fast, even for a Proxy but now they accelerated. If the world had been slow before…now it stood still.

He teleported, the accuracy of which had fallen with the jamming, and struck the creature in the back with his short-sword. He bowed low as an errant swipe with claws that could open a tank scythed through the space his torso had so recently occupied. The Sovereign was twisting in its boneless way, even with Raja’s perceptions turned up. Kicked up. Dropped the sword. It was still turning. His hands sought Sejra’s chin.

He held the creature, immobilising it with the Kinetic Trawl, staring into those slitted eyes…hoping, wishing that it could have been the real deal.

The world resumed normality, sounds echoing loudly and Raja felt himself anchored in the now with enhanced perceptions off. He didn’t want to see this imitation of a monster a second longer than necessary.

His hands shimmered, going through the metal, the servors and the smartskin. He pulled the head off, grabbed one wing and began tearing at it too. He would-

Later, as he huffed, and puffed, above a pile of metal glowing the color of stars, he thought that he might have gone overboard.

_____

His apartment echoed with the sound of a lion’s roar. Some of the other Proxies had wondered why he had picked the near-extinct animal’s howl, but they lacked vision.

He never wanted to miss a message. Never.

He leaned back against his sofa, sipping lightly from the tea - real tea, not formulated! - and pointed at the table. “Message:hologram.”

A scroll burst into being before him. It was cinched with red string and a badge with a ‘fw’ on it. An official message then.

“Unscroll.”

He read the golden letter set on white parchment in seconds and cursed. “An instructor…where?!”