Hard Rock Stadium, Miami, Florida, New American Republic, January 12, 2037

The Magus of the Ten Eyes stared across the arena.

Her opponent, dubbed the ‘Sapphire Smasher’ by the slavers, didn’t make sense.

Outwardly, she was a small girl. Ten year’s old. Maybe an underfed twelve?

Blue hair that fell in waves.

Cerulean eyes that swirled like the ocean’s surface fixed on her with an unblinking stare.

The girl grinned, revealing sharp canine teeth, like a snake’s fangs. She flexed thin, wiry arms, flashing sharp claws at the end of her fingers.

She wore no armor, held no weapons.

Her shirt featured a cartoon mouse.

Her pants were the standard American blue jeans.

Cal Cruces had said that the girl was a dragon.

A very young one.

He hadn’t elaborated beyond that.

The man had no reason to lie, yet, she found it hard to believe.

How could such a large creature take the shape of a small human?

Magic.

Obviously.

Nonetheless, despite everything she had seen, despite the monster eyes orbiting around her protectively, she still had doubts.

The magus tried to see deeper using her monster eye with that ability.

Magic flowed through the girl.

That was all she could glean.

It reminded her of staring down at the ocean’s surface. That dark blue barrier that concealed so much.

The girl held up an imperious hand as soon as the siren blared signaling the start of the match.

“I’d speak words with you.”

The girl’s voice was high, yet it sent a shiver down the magus’ back.

It felt much older.

She managed to dip her head.

“Will you be the one to finally challenge me?” the girl growled.

Twelve eyes struggled to hold the gaze of two.

The girl didn’t blink, the magus realized. She hadn’t blinked the entire time they had stared across the arena while the announcer blathered on.

The crowd’s cheers hushed as they strained to listen to the two competitors’ words.

Those watching at home had no such problem thanks to all of the microphones in the arena.

“I do what I must,” the magus replied.

“Fight well. Show me something I have not seen and there will be a place of honor for you in my eventual domain.”

“I don’t fight for myself.”

“Then fight for your clutch. Earn their place through your deeds.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“I grant you the first blow as I have done to my previous challengers. Do not disappoint.”

She had been expecting this.

The plan, stick to the plan, she thought. Fight long enough to satisfy the king. Allay his suspicions. Let him think that he still has a hold over you. Don’t reveal that you know he no longer has your friends. Don’t concern yourself overmuch with your opponent’s safety. The girl— the dragon could handle it.

One monster eye orbited into place in front of the magus. It swiveled to face the Sapphire Smasher.

The orb opened.

The pupil focused.

A brief light was the only warning. The only herald of the destruction at hand.

A thin beam lanced out of the eye.

The girl dragon’s arms snapped up into an X across her face with supernatural quickness.

For a moment the magus saw sun-browned flesh shimmer into scales the same cerulean color as the eyes.

The girl dragon sniffed. “Disintegration? I approve, but is that the limit of your strength?”

It wasn’t… but not far off.

The magus willed a magic shield into life around her through yet another monster eye.

A feral smile baring small, but sharp fangs was the only warning for the magus.

She saw a cloud of dust and heard a loud boom.

A tiny fist cracked the magic shield sending a spike of pain into the magus’ head.

The fight had truly begun.

“Ohhhh!”

Fin echoed Shrewed as the Sapphire Smasher sent the magus careening into the magic walls protecting the crowd.

“It’s like an air juggle combo,” Fin said.

“The hell is that?” Shrewed said.

Fin gestured toward the huge screen.

“Video game stuff,” Cal said. “Although, I’ve done it a few times on monsters and other things.”

“Never seen it,” Shrewed said.

“And how many times have you seen me fight things that required effort?” Cal said.

Fin thought about it and realized that he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Cal in a fight. Most of what the man had done was cut monsters up with those flying knives or blow their heads off with that ridiculous handcannon. He had never seen Cal get his hands dirty. Let alone uppercut and kick a monster into the air like the girl dragon was doing to the magus.

Fortunately, the magus’ shield was holding despite the visible cracks in the glowing, transparent surface.

“There was that time in Kansas, but I didn’t see much to be honest. It was more like a blur,” Shrewed said.

The three men fell silent as the fight erupted into blistering violence.

“Man, watching ain’t nothing like being in it. I keep wanting to take cover when I hear the hits and spells going off, but then I realize that I can’t smell the burned ozone or people shitting themselves. Can’t feel the heat or tingles. The rumbling in my chest from the explosions,” Shrewed said.

Monster eyes shot beams and sprayed fire.

A gray beam struck the girl dragon in the face causing her skin to lose color and harden.

She ripped it off with a happy roar before launching herself after the floating magus.

The other two men didn’t see it because it had happened to quickly, but Cal saw the flash of glittering blue scales beneath the sun-browned skin before the latter regrew.

“I thought the magus wasn’t supposed to go that hard?” Fin said.

“Kid, I don’t think she’s got a choice. She needs to make it look good, but she can’t take it easy or the dragon’ll take her head off,” Shrewed said.

“The magus might look like an archaeology professor, but she’s tough. Tough enough to get here all the way from Egypt. More than that she was good enough to bring, like, twenty people with her,” Cal said.

“You think she’d answer some questions about her eyes?” Fin’s hand drifted to his chest in an unconscious gesture.

“Can’t hurt to ask,” Shrewed shrugged. “Thinking of picking up a few spells? That stone beam looks like a killer. Bet if that hit anyone else…” he shook his head.

The girl dragon delivered a front flip kick that finally shattered the magus’ magic shield.

The older woman’s face twisted as the impact sent her toward the arena floor.

“Don’t we need her in pretty good shape for later?” Shrewed said.

“She’ll be fine. We’re still good with the plan,” Cal said.

When the girl dragon opened her mouth wide the magus expected fire.

After all that’s what dragon’s did, they breathed fire, right?

What came out was a wave of water.

The deepest, darkest blue.

It swept across the arena floor and over the magus.

Cold.

So cold.

It stole the breath from her lungs and sent sharp spikes into her skin.

Salt.

She tasted salt.

Desperate will sent a command to her elemental eye.

It orbited above her head and poured out a wide stream of fire.

Ironic that.

The deep ocean water boiled into steam.

She called on another eye to sweep over her.

There was something in the cold wet that sapped her spiritually as well as physically.

It felt like magic.

Her anti-magic eye flashed and she instantly felt buoyed. Still cold and wet, but nothing beyond the physical.

“Such varied magics,” the girl dragon gave her a fang-toothed grin. “Serve me and my domain will weather the trials to come. Think hard on it human female. Time draws near for the spires to unleash everything. You do not know what hungers for that which you think belongs to you.”

For a reply she sent a wave of her own.

One of fire.

This dragon didn’t breathe flame, she breathed bone-chilling water.

It stood to reason that an opposite element could be a weakness.

What did Waleed call it?

Ah, yes!

Water-types were weak against fire-types.

Or was it the other way around?

The girl dragon grinned at the onrushing fiery wave that covered a good thirty yards along its leading edge as it billowed out from the magus’ monster eye.

She met it with another torrent of deep ocean water.

The explosion silenced the crowd filling the arena with thick steam.

The magus recast her magic shield as she levitated back away from the huge steam cloud covering much of the arena center.

The crowd roared as the girl dragon leapt out of the cloud with one fist pulled back.

“Show me more!”

Could the magus?

The plan had been to hold back and only use the eyes that the slavers had already seen in action.

She was too slow. The girl dragon too fast and too strong.

Her magic shield cracked beneath the tiny fist, sending painful feedback.

She could slow the girl dragon, but didn’t want to reveal that eye.

The fist landed again.

More cracks, more pain.

She had never faced anyone or anything like this girl.

Something told her to drop the shield and move her head to the left.

She obeyed without hesitation.

A blur.

A powerful gust of wind across the side of her face.

The girl dragon went flying past her.

The magus levitated up and away in an effort to gain distance.

She fired beams of disintegrating and petrifying magic behind her.

She saw them hit without the need to look back.

The girl dragon shrugged them off again.

Sun-browned skin turned into blue scales for a moment.

The magus caught the girl dragon mid-leap with a ray of frost.

The ice cube fell to the ground only to explode sending icy shards in all directions as the girl dragon continued the chase.

Time lost meaning for the magus.

She glanced at the clock on the scoreboard.

Five minutes had passed.

Less than a third through the match.

It simultaneously felt like the longest and quickest five minutes of her life.

Fighting the girl dragon took her back to the days before she obtained her ten eyes.

Not even the worst monster fight since then compared to the storm she was barely surviving inside the arena.

There was so much space for the two combatants, yet it felt so small, claustrophobic as the girl dragon didn’t give her a moment’s breath.

Her spells were mostly ineffective, barely slowing the girl dragon.

She could go stronger, but it wouldn’t matter.

How much longer did she need to keep up the charade?

Surely, it had been long enough to satisfy the slavers.

The crowd certainly seemed to love the violence judging by their rabid cheers.

How much—

The king’s satisfied.

The magus stopped and raised her hands up to the girl dragon while dropping her cracked magic shield.

The girl dragon’s punch went wide. Her cerulean eyes widened in surprise. She had missed.

“I surrender,” the magus said.

The girl dragon pulled her fist back and scowled.

The announcer made the call inciting the crowd to erupt.

“They’re happy,” the girl dragon quirked her head to one side looking up to the magus studying the older woman like prey, “I’m not. You have more to show me. You only used half your eyes.”

A statement, not a question.

“They aren’t suited to this type of battle.”

“Very well. You’ve been my most enjoyable opponent. You are not up to my standard. Still, your efforts have earned you the opportunity to petition me to be one of my chosen few when I claim my domain. You must pass the trials… once I have… er… settled on their nature. They will be challenging, but fair. I only want the exemplars among your kind, remember that.”

The girl dragon, the Sapphire Smasher, turned away from the magus and raised her skinny arms basking in the adulation of the crowd.

That was… unpleasant, the magus thought.

But, you did it. The king’s suspicions have been quieted. He won’t be paying as much attention to you. He’s confident that you don’t know that he no longer has your friends. Time for you to rest and recover. That was a rough fight.

I felt like I was close to death. I know that is against the rules and that there are safe guards, but…

That’s reasonable. She has shown that she’ll take her opponents as close to that line as possible. In any case, it’s over. You don’t have to deal with her.

Is she a threat to our plans?

Possibly. I don’t see her as the type to care about being celebrated at the king’s banquet. She strikes me as the type to take her rewards and move on to whatever’s next. Which might be a problem if that’s sticking around. Then again, if the slavers become too insistent at recruiting her and keeping her here then that would be helpful to us. She would act with swift and overwhelming violence at the first hint that they’re trying to dominate her. It’s an instinctual thing. My only concern at that point would be the collateral damage.

The lose of life would be regrettable, but I’m of the mind that this place has brought that upon themselves by their evil.

Some… many… but not all deserve to die.

Those weighty concerns are yours. I just want my friends to be free and safe.

The Slaver King waited for the small contingent claiming to be the rightful U.S. Government to get comfortable before activating his aura.

He started it slowly.

“True Patriot,” the king inclined his head to the tall, blindfolded woman, “great job! Made it all the way to the Elite Eight. Ran into a real killer. Between you and me, even I’d have a tough time with Mr. Freeman. Death’s Dancer, lieutenants, Rico and Contrary, decent showing beating the Blackstar 3. It was a pretty good fight. Bit disappointing with the Furies fight. Let me tell you, I’m a little surprised at the lack of killer instinct you showed for being special operators.”

“Killing was against your rules,” Death’s Dancer said.

“True, but my healers can fix quite a lot of damage.”

“You didn’t share those details. We weren’t going to risk collateral damage. This was a tournament not real combat,” True Patriot said.

“Fair enough. Nevertheless, I’m surprised that you three didn’t enter the speed run contest.”

Silence.

The pressure built.

Imagine it as though one was descending deeper into the ocean.

It became harder to move.

Breathing grew more difficult as though a vise was around one’s chest. The screw slowly turned, unrelenting.

“Would you say you’ve had a good championships? Overall? Good rewards?”

“Yes,” True Patriot said.

“Good, good. I take pride in my generosity.”

“The spires put up the really good stuff and most of the points,” Death’s Dancer said.

“Well, not even the New American Republic can compete with the, uh, entity or system, or what have you that completely altered the fundamental realities of our entire planet,” the Slaver King said lightly. “Still, I am proud for our added contributions, both in points and potential opportunities.”

“Your opportunities are a nonstarter for us,” True Patriot said.

“Yes, well, that’s the reason I asked you to come here today,” he rose and walked over to the enormous wall of windows on the east side of his top floor boardroom. “I love the view. Look at the ocean. You’d have to be crazy to want to live in any other place,” he turned his gaze back to the people seated at the table. “Like say an underground bunker or so I’ve heard. Tell me, did you have to drink your own piss? What’d you do with the shit? Probably used it to grow mushrooms or something, like in that old movie. What’ll it take to get you on board? True Patriot?”

“I’ve already told your sales reps that I’m not interested,” she said flatly.

“Not even a noble title?”

“C’mon, you can’t just tell people they’re dukes or whatever and make it true!” Lt. Contrary snapped.

“Oh? But that’s exactly how it’s been always done. The people with the strength says they have divine rights and the rest of the people follow along,” the Slaver King said.

“Because of the armies,” Lt. Contrary said.

“Exactly,” the Slaver King smiled. “You get a mansion, essential workers to staff it and see to your day-to-day needs. You can treat them as you will. And with time and proof that I can trust you, I’ll even put you in charge of my military. Think about it, you can lead our righteous Quest as the true inheritors of Old America in reclaiming our land and more.”

“I’m loyal to my oaths,” True Patriot said.

“Look, the only oaths that matter to me are the ones people swear to me. Besides, generals were getting bought by everyone and their mothers back in the old days. Military industrial complex, I mean, even you can’t deny there was a pipeline from the Department of Defense to the big weapons companies and even other sovereign nations. My dad was a CEO, ran a hedge fund and stuff like that. So, I know what I’m talking about. Had an uncle married to my aunt that got paid huge money by the Saudis to lobby congress. I’m talking millions just for that. The weapons deal he got started was worth half a billion. So, if you think you’re some kind of moral arbiter then you need to open your eyes. You do have them right?” he peered into the blindfold.

The glow intensified, pushing back against the Slaver King.

The man’s face remained unreadable, but his thoughts were another matter.

Frustration.

True Patriot and the rest should’ve been thoroughly intimidated by the current strength level of his commanding aura even if they weren’t his sworn subjects.

“You’re a slaver,” Death’s Dancer said.

The king gave the young man an easy smile. “Essential workers. Words are important. They can be twisted to create a narrative. I don’t blame you for your mistake since you don’t know better. You are, after all, a product of your upbringing. I can only imagine what they taught you in those bunkers. You look like you would’ve been around three when the spires appeared. They raised you to be ignorant. Probably, had you doing the pledge every day before school. Those old men that used to run things. They use you to maintain their control.”

“The sky’s blue, grass is green and people put in collars are slaves. You call them whatever you want. Anyone can see the truth with their eyes,” Death’s Dancer said. “It’s easy enough to prove. The people in collars… are they essential workers? No? They’re slaves.”

The Slaver King’s aura flared.

The pressure grew crushing.

They struggled to pull oxygen into their compressed lungs.

The buzzing in their ears became overwhelming.

Lt. Rico and Lt. Contrary’s muscles strained as they fought to keep from being pressed into the hardwood table.

True Patriot and Death’s Dancer fared better.

They kept their straight-backed bearing.

“Is this an act of war?” True Patriot said as she flared her inner light.

The two lieutenants gasped, sucking in a deep breath.

They didn’t know how long their captain could push back against the Slaver King.

“No, of course not,” the Slaver King said lightly. The pressure vanished. “I want a peaceful transition for the New American Republic. Bloodshed would be a waste. There are so few of us left out there. Our estimates put the current population of the old country at just around three million.”

“Then you won’t prevent our departure,” True Patriot said.

“What would give you that idea?”

“You’ve prevented other competitors from leaving.”

“Different situations. Not at all like yours. You’re free to go whenever you want. I would encourage you to wait until after the award’s dinner and the celebration at my castle. As Gold Division competitors you have a place of honor and there might be an added surprise,” he winked. “After that I’d like to send you back to your leaders with gifts and an offer. You may not want to be a Lady, but others will.”

“They won’t,” Death’s Dancer said.

“You’re young. You’ll learn,” the Slaver King sighed. “In any case I’d like to establish diplomatic channels. I’m not going to bullshit you though, we’re patient, but we’re not that patient. So, in conclusion, hang around, enjoy all our amenities. See everything, hear everything. Learn why the New American Republic is the future. Don’t get left behind on the shit pile of history.”

The Slaver King dismissed them with a genial wave that was only on the surface level.

He fumed on the inside.

So much so that he delayed his next meeting by fifteen minutes so that he could calm and refocus himself.

The blind-folded bitch asked if it was war?

The answer was yes if her leadership was stupid, which, knowing how old politicians were like was probable.

He called for his essential assistant to bring the next meeting in.

The sight of her swaying hips in that tight dress never failed to make him relax. Well, at least, some of him relaxed.

The man that followed her into the boardroom was a grizzled sort. His face was scarred and craggy like he had been hacked out of stone with crude tools.

“Spear Captain Doran. Welcome.”

The man watched the Slaver King warily as if the latter was a hungry lion.

“Thank you,” Doran said.

“Please have a seat,” the Slaver King gestured.

“I prefer to stand,” Doran held the same straight-backed bearing as True Patriot and her little soldiers.

“What is with you soldiers? A rhetorical question,” the Slaver King waved a hand. “I won’t waste your time, spear captain. Since I can already tell what you’ll answer. I’ve spoken to that watch commander and she said she can’t answer for your governor. And that brings me to you. You know I’m surprised that your governor didn’t send a representative that could speak on his behalf.”

“It’s above my pay grade, so I can’t talk about that.”

“Yes, yes, my representative brought back your governor’s words that he wasn’t interested in anything beyond non-aggression. I’d like to ask you to help me and help yourself, your community. When it’s time for you to go home, we will, of course, send additional soldiers to make sure you make it back safely. It’s a long and dangerous drive, as we both know. My soldiers were a great help in fighting monsters, raiders and other dangers, were they not?”

“I can’t say they weren’t.”

“Glad to hear it from you directly,” the Slaver King slid a thick envelope across the table. “I don’t give up easily. For your governor and maybe for you and anyone else interested. I’m not above headhunting. You’re a leader of men. My people only had good things to say with how you handled your spears out on the road. I’d love to bring you on board along with your best and brightest.”

“Your people—”

“I know, they’ve already tried recruiting you. I figured it’d land differently if it came from me. Don’t answer now. Take your time. The New American Republic isn’t going anywhere.”

The spear captain took the envelope and tucked it under one arm. He gamely stared at a point directly over the Slaver King’s right shoulder.

Doran had been warned about what he could’ve faced inside the boardroom and waited patiently.

“Thank you for your time, spear captain. I hope you continue to enjoy our hospitality. I promise that the celebration will be a night to remember. I hope it speaks well of what we can offer you.”

“Thank you.”

Doran didn’t breathe easily until he was well on his way back to his hotel.

The Slaver King shrugged.

That went as expected and planned.

The spear captain from Northern California wasn’t an individual threat, unlike the True Patriot and her child soldiers, so he didn’t need to show off his aura. Neither, were the hundred plus fighters the man had brought with him.

They were grossly outnumbered by his regular force alone.

Not to mention his special secret reserve.

Those were real monsters.

The Slaver King called for his next meeting.

The faster he could get done with it the faster he could blow off some steam with his essential assistant.

Disgusting filth, Cal thought.

He was high above, hiding in the clouds.

Was it worth the risk?

He had done nothing even as countless abuses were perpetrated every hour of every day on the thousands of enslaved people.

What was one young woman’s violation compared to the chance to free them all in a few weeks?

After all, she had been violated countless times.

He hadn’t stopped any of those.

Was it different because he was there, in the moment?

All he had to do was leave after the last meeting.

Hide behind the walls around his mind.

Or do something with the powers he was given.

It’d be easy to make the Slaver King forget about the young woman and move on with his day.

What if the king realized something was amiss later?

The man was a Slaver King over Level 50.

Cal hadn’t risked probing deeper to get a full profile of the man’s class, Skills and other abilities.

Some people said that there was a Skill or spell for everything. He wasn’t inclined to argue against that hypothesis.

Perhaps a distraction.

A convoluted chain of events beginning with a slight nudge or a loosened screw or a suddenly enraged arena monster that eventually led to the Slaver King being called away to deal with the problem.

Or he could do the equivalent of pulling the smoke alarm for the high-rise building.

Force everyone to evacuate.

Yeah, he thought, that should be okay.

Right, once he was done with that he had to take a quick trip out to the ranger base camp to pick up the items he had requested.