Location: The Crucible Grounds - Arena Floor
Time: Present Day - Tournament Finals
The OSI agents forced Leo Jerkins to his knees, his body slamming against the cracked arena floor. The crowd watched in stunned silence, their breath caught in their throats. The red dots on his face and body remained fixed, unwavering.
Slate stood over him, his expression one of cold triumph mixed with barely contained fury. His voice carried a note of venomous satisfaction.
"You thought you were really smart, didn't you? That your masquerading would go unpunished, huh, kid?"
Leo's expression remained calm, almost bored. His gaze was fixed on the ground, his body still.
The crowd's whispers rose and fell like waves.
"No way in hell that psycho killer would be caught in such a sorry, shitty manner. This smells like some script or something."
"Probably. Doesn't look right to me. Something's off."
A third spectator shook his head slowly. "If this is real, then the world is even crazier than I thought."
---
VIP Section
Michael Snovidenie's voice carried a note of doubtful curiosity. "Quantum Flow Adept, what is going on here?"
Brenda's expression remained unreadable, her gaze fixed on the arena below. She didn't respond, her silence a wall that Michael's words could not breach.
Michael's brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
---
Slate's boot connected with Leo's side, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his body. Leo didn't retaliate. He didn't even flinch. His expression remained unchanged, his gaze fixed on the ground.
Slate's voice carried a note of barely contained rage, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Do you know how hard it was for me to get where I reached? Four years! Four years scrubbing toilets and bathrooms of those lousy cooperate wankers. Pleasing them in the corridors. Sacrificing my own daughter to one of them, just to be given a chauffeur job."
His voice cracked with emotion, his eyes blazing with cold fury.
"I worked hard in that job for that old fox—now dead—Theorder Halvern, to notice me. And then... I don't know the type of shit that changed me, both inside and out. The things I did for that man to climb my way all the way to the position of being a cop and chief."
He paused, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper.
"Those types of people aren't to be fucked with. And you did. You accomplished what you did, kid. I'll give you that. But all my years of hard-earned work—all of it—got ruined by you. Azaqor. What even was that sick mask you hid yourself with?"
His hand shot out, grabbing Leo's face, his fingers digging into his skin.
"Only cowards who know they're doing sick shit hide in masks. And I suspect you're wearing those silicon masks that you—"
He tried to tear it off. His fingers clawed at Leo's face, scratching and pulling.
Nothing happened.
Leo's expression remained calm, his gaze fixed on the ground.
Slate's frustration grew, his movements becoming more frantic. "No! This can't be! I just know you are him! You want to play with me? Because I tell you, I'm not in the mood!"
The crowd's reaction was immediate—a mixture of disappointment and mockery.
"Look at him. All that talk, and he can't even prove it."
"Pathetic. He's just grasping at straws."
"Maybe he's wrong. Maybe Leo Jerkins is just Leo Jerkins."
---
VIP Section
Isha Patel shook her head dramatically, her voice carrying a note of theatrical amusement. "My, my. These mortals sure are the butt of the jokes of society."
Valerik's voice carried a note of cold cynicism. "What do you expect from a human? They all think, feel, and act based on repulsive tendencies. That's what makes them easier to distract and control."
He turned to Jericho, his voice carrying a note of dramatic mockery.
"I'm just going to sit here and watch as your brother's family name is tarnished for the world to see. That's quite the dilemma, isn't it?"
Nikolai Morozov leaned forward, his voice carrying a note of provoking amusement. "Don't be hard on the fellow, Valerik. He's probably pissing in his pants right now. You trying to steer him to go out and fight that old guy? He's just like the rest of them—a defect who never fully formed resonance with his aethernova. A headless moron."
His smirk was sharp, cutting.
Jericho's hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. His jaw was tight, his eyes blazing with cold fury.
Nikolai's voice carried a note of mock surprise. "What's this? Upset? Well, too bad if you can't handle the truth."
Valerik's voice carried a note of protective threat. "You want to go, Nikolai?"
The two men stared at each other, their bodies coiled like springs.
Brenna's voice cut through the tension, calm and measured. "I've heard this Elijah was part of a secret Sutran project. Him being that Azaqor fellow just doesn't add up. And what's more, I don't think that would cause him to be a public enemy of the Sutrans."
She paused, her voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur.
"Something else might be the cause of them being stirred up. My elder sister probably knows what it is. And if he's the threat they portray him as, then he certainly isn't this Leo kid."
Eugene Torrent's voice carried a note of cold suspicion. "I doubt that would be the case. I've been feeling suspicious of this Leo Jerkins kid. For two years, he couldn't even revolve his core. Then, in one day, he could. And he pulled off great achievements in that pocket space tournament. All of it doesn't add up at all."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"You and I both know what is within those types of regions. This kid even making it out alive there was something not in the realm of possibility."
Brenna's voice carried a note of thoughtful consideration. "I don't know the real truth. All these assumptions won't do any of us good. Who knows? Maybe he had some Veil charm that aided him. Within the Sutran, plenty of them exist to ward off those creatures."
Eugene's jaw tightened. "I don't care about the real truth or all that. What I have left is boiling fury. And I know just who must pay for it."
His gaze shifted to Grace, his eyes blazing with cold fury.
Grace noticed. Her lips curved into a small, cheeky smile—a split-second gesture that Eugene caught. His expression shifted to one of barely contained rage.
She's mocking me, he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of dark promise. She will pay.
---
Slate's expression shifted from fury to frustration to something approaching madness. His hands trembled, his voice carrying a note of desperate rage.
"I've been so pumped for all of this, Elijah! And you're trying to play sick mind games? I'm not in the mood for it!"
His hands moved in frantic gestures, his voice rising with each word.
"And it appears that you won't listen to me right now because you have this ego in you, huh? See me like someone not worth your time, huh? Because I was just one of many long list of your victims. Why would you bother with someone you already beat?"
His voice dropped to a cold, venomous whisper.
"Only people from the Halverns are worth your time, huh?"
His gaze shifted to Chloe, then to Grace.
"I heard you and Miss Chloe here were quite a thing."
---
His hand reached into his pocket, emerging with a device—small, sleek, its surface pulsing with a faint, dark light. The air around it shimmered with a crackling energy, like the edge of a storm.
He pointed it at Chloe.
A bolt of dark, crackling energy erupted from the device, striking Chloe's chest. Her body convulsed, her aethernova suit flickering wildly before going dark. She collapsed, her body limp.
Grace's eyes widened. She tried to move.
But Slate was faster.
The second bolt struck her, the dark energy wrapping around her like a living shadow. Her body convulsed, her aethernova suit failing. She collapsed to the ground, her body limp and broken.
Slate's expression shifted to one of cold triumph.
His voice carried a note of dark satisfaction.
"Let's see how long you can keep up that act now."
---
The arena fell into a heavy, expectant silence. Chloe and Grace lay on the ground, their bodies broken, their aethernova suits flickering weakly.
Slate stood over them, his expression one of cold triumph.
The crowd watched with bated breath, their voices lost in the stillness.
And somewhere in the shadows, Brenda's lips curved into a thin smile.
Interesting, she thought. Very interesting indeed.