To the horror of Team New York and every other beta tester around the world, yet another sinister aspect of the game had been revealed; the contact lenses that were burned into their retinas were also bombs that could be detonated at any time.
'How am I alive then?' Ky wondered. He remembered the time the game attempted to force him to take his own life, only for that voice to intervene. 'Content updates– maybe the content updates changed the way things work after people survived the first purge. They're using the tournament as a second purge.' Ky presented his theory in his own mind, though whether or not this theory was accurate or not was to be determined. 'But if that's the case... why purge your strongest players?' As Ky found himself lost in thought, the text began flashing in his field of vision. It was as if the game was trying yet again to distract him with shiny new rewards.
[Level Up!]
As Team Los Angeles's bodies lay unmoving, being cleaned up by the tournament's crew, the members of Team New York were rewarded handsomely for their participation. However, unlike before, there wasn't a rush of dopamine upon seeing one's stats progress nor was there any joy in unlocking a new ability. The only thing felt by those who valued life was guilt. Even those who didn't value life in the same way, such as Novacaine and Mania, felt some sort of disdain for the way the game operated. The discomfort one felt knowing that their eyes could explode at any moment transcended any sort of moral compass.
[Level 5!]
[ATK - 6 -> [ATK - 7]
[AGL - 7] -> [AGL - 8]
[TNQ - 15] -> [TNQ 17]
[DEF - 8] -> [DEF - 9]
[VIT - 4] -> [VIT - 5]
[New Passive Unlocked!]
[Spatial Construction - Allows the user to manipulate constructs made from spatial energy]
[New Ability Unlocked!]
[Spatial Construct: Small Weapons - Allows the user to create knives, daggers, or any other small, single-handed weapon out of spatial energy.]
[Spatial Construct: Small Projectiles - Allows the user to create small projectiles out of spatial energy.]
Despite unlocking all sorts of new abilities, Ky could not shake the feeling of disgust building within him. 'I killed them.' he thought. Of course, it was truly the game that took the lives of Team Los Angeles, but he played a role in their murder. 'But what other choice do I have? It's kill or be killed.' Ky thought back at Spectre and what he said just a few moments ago. 'If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't want him feeling sorry for himself. If I don't win, then he died for nothing.'
Professor Anarchy, taking the role of the team's leader, stood in front of his team and spoke the first words that came to his mind. "Many of us, including myself, find what just transpired horrifying. I know for myself, that seeing that child die in such a way was heartwrenching. No child deserves to die, not one. Nonetheless, we cannot stand here and sulk. We cannot sit idly and think about what could have been! We are the survivors! We must focus on what is ahead of us, not on what is behind us. I understand for some of you, members of Team LA were formidable foes, rivals, and perhaps unlikely confidants; but all of that must be forgotten if you want to live. Raise your heads. Never forget this feeling and use that to fuel yourself to become more powerful! In doing so, we will be victorious. We will return home to our loved ones, our friends, or whatever else it is that awaits your return in New York. We will win."
Professor Anarchy's resolve was at full display; it was oddly contagious in a way, inspiring his team despite its bleakness. They knew he was right. Unless they wanted to end up like their West Coast contemporaries, they needed to stay focused.
"Come now, we must clear the stage for the next competitors and prepare ourselves both mentally and physically for the next phase."
Team New York once again found themselves inside their personal waiting room, watching one of the screens that showcased the next two teams going at it. Gangnam-gu, Korea was up against Shibuya, Japan. Despite these two teams being powerful in their own right, Team New York didn't have an interest in watching them fight. Not a soul in the room was watching the television screen, they were all too lost in their own heads.
The room had been silent for over half an hour.
The Blur, with clean hands that still reeked of blood, imagined the crimson life essence dripping from his hands as they did after his fight with Echo. He couldn't stop shaking and he'd become unresponsive. He tried to remember what happened, but it was as if he'd blacked out the moment he thought he saw Black Haze, only to regain consciousness the moment the announcer's countdown ended.
Infinite was near his buddy, but at the same time, he was giving him space. He tried talking to him, to comfort him, but the Blur acted as if he were the only one in the room. As Infinite leaned against one of the walls with his arms crossed, he thought about the child he faced in the tournament. The child was lost, yet Infinite felt that he could have gotten through to him and brought him toward the light, perhaps becoming a mentor of sorts. The only thing Infinite could do for him then was scrape his brains off the grass.
Fixer, the boy genius, also thought about Kapow. They weren't too far in age and seeing a young boy such as himself die in such a gruesome manner made him realize just how serious the game was. If things had gone differently, it would be his brains splattered on the stage. However, Fixer wasn't just sitting idly, he was working out ways to somehow remove the contact lenses from their irises, wanting to get rid of the curse of being a beta tester. His power was the ability to create anything he could imagine if given the right tools; however, when it came to brainstorming ideas for removing the lenses, it was as if he had a mental block.
Perhaps the game was interfering once again.
Flora and Lady Luck were the only two in a pair, sitting next to each other without saying a word. They both considered themselves to be more so on the side of Chaos, but despite that, what had just transpired was still horrifying. They pictured not only themselves as potential future victims of the game but each other. To lose their best friend, their partner in crime, wouldn't be a life worth living for either of them.
Mania, despite being as far leaning on the Chaos spectrum as one could be, felt fear inside of himself for the first time since he discovered his new abilities. Like any other young adult, he too feared death. He was just better at hiding it beneath his reaper-esque facade.
Celsius, for once, wasn't thinking about Tempo at all. The only thing on his mind was winning. Out of everyone on the team, he took Professor Anarchy's speech the hardest. If they wanted to live, there wasn't any room to be second place anymore. They needed to become the strongest region in the world.
Of course, the Professor himself kept a cool head and sat idly with a clear mind on the floor in the center of the room. This was his way of coping, emptying his mind of all thoughts.
Novacaine– well– he was just being Novacaine.
And Tempo, the supposed only hope for humanity, stood at the back of the room watching everyone else. 'I won't let any of them die.' he told himself. Even though they weren't all close to each other, they were still teammates.
Celsius approached Tempo, his eyes lacking any of the light that was there previously. "Hey." he said quietly. "What's up?" Tempo muttered with a nod.
"Let's train. I want to try something out. It beats sitting on our asses." Celsius challenged his rival, though this time there was no smile nor was that obsessive attitude present. His goal wasn't to beat Tempo or become better than him. He wanted to grow stronger with him.
Tempo breathed through his nose playfully. "I'm down, but where are we supposed to fight without causing damage?"
Surprisingly, the most unlikely of the bunch had a solution. "We can train inside of my Hades Realm." said Mania.
"That sounds like the absolute worst idea imaginable!" Fixer chimed in with false enthusiasm.
"If you're afraid I'll make you rip your faces off, that's not how it works. It basically turns any area of my choosing into a domain that I have full control over. Of course, I can make you rip your faces off, but I won't. If I want to win, I need you all to reach my level."
Mania, to say the least, was scary. However, the team knew they had no other choice. The other teams were likely doing what they could to grow more powerful as well. "I'm in." said Infinite, which then influenced everyone else to join.
"Me too."
"I guess."
"Fine."
"If you say so."
"Alright."
"Well, if everyone else is going to."
Novacaine didn't say anything, but he stood up with everyone else. All that was left was the Blur. Tempo, Celsius, and Infinite approached him and crouched down to his level. "Hey, c'mon. Let's train." Despite his friends being there for him, the Blur was still unresponsive.
"Let's just give him some space, guys." Infinite instructed the other two.
Everyone but Infinite huddled around Mania with determination scribbled across all of their faces. "Are you all ready?" he asked, getting a nod from everyone. "By the way, gravity is doubled."
"Wait what?"
Before anyone could back out, Mania waved his hands in front of him and Team New York was transferred to another realm.