Glax dashed into the ruins of the main building, and plunged into semi-darkness.
At a glance, he could see worn paintings on the walls, between the once-majestic columns, but he had no time to see the details. At that moment he needed to focus more on survival, and trying to understand the world around him would have to wait.
He needed to think of a way to get rid of Proctius and get the machine back.
Or would he be better off figuring out how to end his participation in the tournament? Besides, now he had to find Rasmus and...
DOOOMMMM DOOOMMMM
'But what is that bastard doing?!' The banging of metal was unmistakable. 'Son of a syphilitic mother! He's destroying the machine!' The thought made him freeze in place.
Only an ignorant person would think of destroying that fantastic machine, and that was what was happening now.
Even his survival instinct failed at that moment. A person of common sense would also prevent an ignorant person from destroying Michelangelo's David.
A little confused, he was unable to retrace his steps back where he came from, but the sounds that came from outside guided him. Climbing up a narrow staircase, Glax found himself reaching the roof of the building. He walked through the thick stone beams, ignoring the holes in the ceiling, and arriving at the facade of the monumental building.
"Proctius! STOP!"
"Are you crazy?!" The warrior barely looked at him, while with a large stone he employed himself to slam the metal crustacean.
Glax's heart sank.
The upper part was very resistant, but the legs were more susceptible. And Proctius was crippling the machine with blows to the joints. "This thing is more dangerous than you can imagine, kid."
"STOP! You are destroying something important! This... needs to be studied by the… wise men! You don't even know what you're doing!" Not even Glax knew what he was talking about. It just seemed like a good guess to suppose they had no idea what they were dealing with, from Proctius' words.
After two more strokes that made the crab tilt to the right with a kind of metallic groan, Proctius hesitated with the stone in his hand.
"Do you know anything about this? Were you riding it? Is there life in it? Is he like the others?"
'If I only knew...' Still, he lied. "No. I think this is special. Come on... Let's make a truce to talk, okay? We may even fight tomorrow, but... Drop that stone. Stop destroying that machine. Someone is going to be furious if they know we act like idiots about this thing. This is a treasure. A missing link."
"Missing link?" Of course, the bald warrior didn't understand the term.
"Wise men must decide what to do with it afterwards. This is certainly dangerous, but destroying it without understanding it is a big waste."
"You are strange, Glax of Valosia."
"You don't even guess how much."
"What?"
"Nothing, forget it. Dude, since we're talking... How many of us are still remaining? Isn't it time to end this tournament? Ring the bell and such?" Glax remembered Rasmus's words.
"Are you afraid to face me?" Proctius laughed mockingly, sitting on the marble steps. He was still looking suspiciously at the metallic creature, but he seemed aware that it was going nowhere. He showed no fear of Glax, and even relaxed, examining some injuries on his body.
"Fear?" Even Glax knew that a show of weakness was unthinkable. "I can respect a warrior who, in addition to strength, shows intelligence. Even an animal has the strength and fury to kill. I'm not the strongest here, but look how far I've come."
Nothing like nudging a man's pride ... Proctius stretched his torso, pretending to stretch.
"You are right, Glax. How many necklaces do you have now?"
"Eighteen," lied Glax, counting on the night and the distance to cover up the truth. "And you?"
"Seventeen," Proctius also lied.
"Did you kill the guys back there?" Glax asked casually, wanting to know about Rasmus.
"Your friend disappeared, don't you remember? I lost him. I'm tired of this game. Do you have anything to eat with you?"
"No." This time it was true. Glax was also hungry. He didn't trust Proctius and knew that the opposite was true. He decided to risk a maneuver.
"As soon as I can, I will ring the bell. I want to take this machine from the island to find out what it is. Someone told me that the game is over when the bell is rung. It is true?"
Of course, nobody had said anything like that, but Proctius had no way of knowing. Glax wanted to test his theory.
"Who told you to do this? Yes, the game is over. And the guy who rings the bell first is the biggest coward ever."
"Of course not, Proctius," he replied promptly, with a hint of cynicism. "If the one with the most necklaces rings the bell, he is very sure of his victory. Of course, if he is disproved by a guy who has more necklaces than him, that would be shameful, but if he is sure he has more than everyone else standing, what's wrong? Or is there any pleasure in murdering clan brothers when your point has already been proven?"
"Do you have just one necklace more than me? Really?" Proctius asked. "And do you really think about ringing the bell?"
"I would just be ashamed if you could get more necklaces before I got to the bell..."
"You're lying. I counted the dead in the tower. You have at least 21 necklaces."
"Not all the guys in the tower had necklaces, man. I shared the necklaces with Rasmus, and there were only 8. After all, I didn't do everything myself," again he lied. "Rasmus got 16, and I got 10, so far..." Up there, he looked at the horizon, looking for a sign of where the bell might be. Then he saw a spot of light on his right, and supposed it was the place he was looking for.
"You are lying." Proctius insisted, this time laughing. Glax grabbed the dirty rags he had mixed with the necklaces, and tossed it to the warrior, who caught them in the air in a reflexive act.
"What is it?!"
"War craft. Don't be hurt. I am explaining this because of our impasse. You won't be able to get me up here. I'll also have a hard time getting down if you stay like a watchdog down there. But there are at least 4 more guys to share the rest of the necklaces. They all have a chance to pass our number. And the first one to get there will be sure to have more than everyone else. I don't mind being placed last among the six winners, as I will have my fair share. I'm rooting for Rasmus, who is smart enough to ring the bell once he has beaten just one more opponent. If I don't win the Games, I'm sure he will be the Big Winner."
Proctius took a moment to think about everything that Glax had said. Glax sat on the cold rock, watching the sunrise that cold morning, wishing he could be in his warm bed with Sienna... But with the harsh certainty that Sienna and his past like Matt had been left behind forever.
He watched Proctius fidgeted and grunted his considerations to himself, standing up and glaring at Glax. The machine seemed to be a thing of the past for him.
"You are strange, Glax de Valosia," repeated Proctius, starting to walk away from the building. "We'll see you on the way back."
"Yes, Proctius. You don't even know how weird I am," Glax nodded to the warrior, following him with his eyes. His strategy had worked, taking Proctius away from the machine.
Just to make sure he was really gone, Glax got down and went back to the pitiful machine.
A feeling of irremediable helplessness hit him when he saw that the ichor was leaking under the scout's shell, wetting the floor. He put his hand up and felt the warm liquid drain from his fingers.
Putting on his lips, the bitter, metallic taste was unpleasant and burned on his skin, more than gasoline. He tried to climb on the machine, but it tipped to the side with the sway, with a big thud. It looked like an agonizing animal.
Glax reached for the vial, realizing that it wasn't completely damaged, but its connection to the rest of the structure was. He carefully removed it, trying not to lose any of its contents.
The light went out immediately. The machine was now a carcass of noble and twisted metals, without its primary fuel and source of power.
Glax felt himself holding a human heart in his hands.
In the distance, he heard the bell ring several times, echoing across the island.
BLEM BLEM BLEM!
Who had it been? Proctius or Rasmus?