The first thirty minutes of the Meridian V scrimmage were dedicated to setting up a rematch between "Cablecar" and Rustica. Yes, they were going with Cablecar until they came up with something better.
The rematch would take place at the next social event in two weeks. Although this current scrimmage against Meridian V was also at Rustica's arena, it was not part of any convention, thus the audience had significantly dwindled. No one knew or cared about Cablecar, and those who knew George Jang didn't like him.
Before the duel began, Caroline, Marvin, Ben, Renee, Bob, and Sienna gathered in the team room. Ben and Renee had finally freed up their schedule, which Marvin found a little suspicious. It seemed they were simply here because the attendance was a fraction of the usual. Were they avoiding someone? Renee's old teammates, perhaps?
"Jang uses some unorthodox tactics," Bob was saying. He had distanced himself a little from the others, clearly marking himself as the head of their circle. "He'll taunt you. You can't let any of it get to your head."
Caroline nodded.
"What's worse is, he's actually competent," Bob continued. "Your best bet is to disorient him. Stay in his blind spot, and it'll be smooth sailing."
Bob took a step back and the rest of them almost took it as a sign to disperse. However, Sienna nudged his shoulder and motioned to Marvin and Ben.
"Oh, right," Bob said. "I've got a little update about Theo."
Marvin's ears perked up. He'd disregarded Theo as a dead end these past weeks, but he was still as expectant as ever.
Unfortunately, what Bob said next made his previous statement rather exaggerated.
"He's still completely dark. But Marvin Yao himself—he went off the grid after the incident, but his NID traces before then are still easily accessible. I'll try to follow his tracks. See if I can find something on Theo or his other teammates that way."
Marvin should've felt excited, or at least grateful that Bob was going in this direction. But all he could feel was a strange, nervous tingling on the back of his neck. This was a lot of dedication from a relatively unfamiliar man. A lot.
Calm down. Bob just wants to help.
"You sure that's safe?" Ben asked.
"Yeah," Bob said. He laughed. "I mean, I assume you guys won't tell the Manhunters?"
The overconfidence was beginning to unnerve Marvin. Why was Bob so outspoken about corruption when the other teams only whispered of it? Was he part of some greater conspiracy?
There wasn't much time to contemplate that. Soon enough, Bob and Sienna left for the stands, and Caroline for the pilot's room. Ben and Renee attached Marvin's head to the mech, said some words of encouragement, then sent him on his way.
The arena was beginning to slip into a compartment of familiarity in Marvin's mind. It was a good feeling as he stepped onto the rough ground, took in the walls, the mostly empty stands, and his opponent.
Meridian V was a strange mech. It had a normal build, except its right arm tapered off into a giant crab claw. Marvin wanted to roll his eyes. There was no way people thought that was cool. The rest of the mech more or less resembled Marvin's own. It was even unpainted, meaning it was a prototype.
Marvin looked down to observe himself. His arm blades were still those clumsy, unfoldable things they had been in the Rustica fight, but he now had a 360 waist axis and a Maevis Converter. With the two paired together, he could generate massive amounts of power with every rotation of his body. Hopefully that would allow him to draw his swords faster. Saberstar had utilized a 360 waist axis as well, making Marvin feel right at home.
And one last addition. A simple switch tucked in the back left corner of his Core, which, once flipped, would prompt him to kneel and cut off his own arm. An automated forfeit. Caroline and Renee had made it almost too accessible—Marvin dearly hoped he wouldn't have to use it today.
He focused back on Meridian V. That claw was quite thick and was probably not going anywhere. However, it left Meridian's left side open. Marvin just had to find an opportunity to slip in, then puncture the mech anywhere fatal. Its armor was nowhere near as chunky as Rustica's.
"Caroline, is it?" George Jang bellowed from his mech.
Marvin didn't bother to nod. These pilots who reverted to taunting were embarrassments to the sport.
"You ever heard of paint?" George said. "That's gotta be the ugliest mech I've ever seen."
You hypocrite, Marvin thought. It didn't matter; he'd easily win this fight. In fact, as he analyzed it now, there was a chance he could end it within the first few seconds. Meridian V would not expect an attack from its right side. Marvin just had to get past the claw, pivot, and stab the enemy in the back.
"Pilots, prime your mechs!" Sienna announced.
"Enter your mechs!"
"On your mark, get set…"
Marvin launched forward as soon as Sienna pronounced the "t" in "fight." As expected, Meridian V wound its claw backwards, taken aback by surprise. One swing of the claw passed over Marvin's head. It opened, shooting two blades backwards, trying to catch Marvin.
No such luck—Marvin was already behind Meridian V. He jammed one saber into the ground and used his thrusters to pivot around that sword. He drew the other saber as he spun and pointed it upwards, ready to run it through the opponent's back.
However the moment the tip of his blade came within an inch of Meridian V's armor, the other mech's thrusters flared and it flew forwards, out of range. An automated response, most likely, along with the smooth 180 degree turn that followed.
"That was real cheap, Caroline," George said. "No wonder you beat Rustica."
Marvin forced himself not to feel disappointed. Fights never ended within the first few seconds anyway, no matter the skill gap between mechs.
Marvin and Meridian V charged, initiating a classic bout. Although the claw was new, Marvin was used to this stage of the fight. He dodged whenever he could, gauging the opponent, checking for patterns, looking for weak spots. George did the same, of course, but his inadequacy allowed Marvin to fall into a comfortable rhythm.
He really isn't that good, Marvin thought as he dodged the sixth claw snap. Same position, same speed, same step-back afterwards. It was like George was just executing a series of programs.
He probably is. Maybe all he does is press buttons and trash talk.
This seemed almost too easy. Marvin was certain he had a pattern down by now—Meridian V would snap its claw, step away, and then, instead of backing off like usual, Marvin would stay in pace and lunge forward. From there, there was a plethora of win conditions to take a hold of.
Meridian V performed a routine sweep and jab, which Marvin effortlessly dodged. If George was any good, he would've picked up on some of Marvin's habits, like how he usually sidestepped to the right, then boosted backwards. But if George noticed, he did not take advantage.
Just a routine program.
Marvin wondered if this was his "unorthodox" way of fighting. Make the opponent convinced they had him figured out, then switch something up.
Still, there was no harm in assuming the contrary. Marvin deflected a claw swing, spun, stabbed, and had his blade swatted away by the non-claw hand. He withdrew, waiting for the claw to approach and snap.
However, just then, Meridian V jumped backwards. Marvin lunged anyway by instinct, but the position of the claw was off. Instead of it being forward and a non-threat, it was reared back so that when Marvin was in range, it rammed into him. He tumbled backwards and readjusted to his feet with his thrusters.
Was that on purpose or just a random switchup? Marvin couldn't be bothered to decide, because right then George decided to start talking again.
"That was pathetic!" he said. He kept his distance and began circling.
Marvin waited, half to calm himself down, half to observe Meridian V a little closer. The key to winning was staring him in the face, he was sure of it. Plus, he was certain George would start yapping instead of attacking.
Marvin had heard all the trash talk before, especially the insults that pointed out his youth and his anti-socialness. He'd grown immune, and was actually a little curious to hear what George would say.
However, he didn't consider one fact.
"Caroline Sand," George called. "That's your full name, right? You went to Gregory High and got into the Entech-14, didn't you?"
So we're just doxing now? Marvin thought. Caroline had mentioned Entech-14 before during their noodle shop chats—it was one of the best engineering universities in the megacity.
"And you dropped out after two weeks, no?" George continued, still circling, each step resounding in the arena.
Marvin slowly slid his feet to keep facing his opponent. This was unorthodox, borderline illegal, even. He wanted to feel glad that at least George wasn't talking about him, but in truth, that made it all the more uncomfortable.
Caroline can't hear this, can she?
"Nothing happened in those two weeks," George said. "You attended your classes, studied, made friends. So why'd you drop out? Something outside of university?"
Marvin decided that he did not want to hear more about Caroline's life. He drew his sabers and ran at Meridian V.
Bait out the snap. That's all you need.
However, to Marvin's surprise, the jaws unhinged and folded backwards. Meridian V threw a punch with the flat of the claw. Marvin knew what was coming, but didn't have enough time to react. He unfolded his arm-shield and let the hit sink into the metal plate. He locked his leg joints, locked his arms, and held his ground.
Obviously, he knew what would come next. With no time to avoid it, he just had to mitigate the damage.
Meridian V's claw snapped shut. At the same, Marvin lifted his legs and kicked his 360 waist axis into high gear. The whirlwind of limbs tripped the opponent and they both crashed to the ground.
Marvin heard a rising buzz within him as the torque was converted into energy. He jabbed his elbows outwards and ripped free from the claws. Sparks flew and gears burst, and he couldn't tell who had lost more parts.
"Where the hell did you get a Maevis Converter?" George shouted as both mechs leapt to their feet. "Who'd you steal it from?"
Marvin grinned. All that taunting, for what?
"Or," George said, retreating backwards, "you've got some connections. Friends of the Sand family."
Marvin rushed at Meridian V, but it kept backing away. Both his swings missed.
"Friends of Mr. Sand, maybe," George said.
Marvin flung himself at Meridian V. Jumped over its claw swing, flipped, and jammed one saber into its shoulder. He let gravity do the rest of the work—as he fell, the sword carved a clean gash through the mech's shoulder blade. However, it didn't quite reach the motor. Marvin cursed as Meridian V retreated yet again, left arm still intact.
"Who were your parents, really?" George called. "How come they divorced so suddenly? How come there's next to no record of them? How come your father's registered in the Memory Bank?"
Marvin felt a chill go down his spine. Despite his mind screaming at him to keep attacking, he found himself stationary. Waiting for more.
"Don't worry, Caroline. You won't turn out like them," George said. "You won't become anything. You'll try your luck with mech-fighting, not make the next three Mecha Realms, then realize you need a change of career. But what then? You're already in your mid twenties and don't have a college degree. You'll end up slaving away in some factory, thinking every day about where you went wrong."
You'll never amount to anything as a mech pilot. You'll find a job you don't care about and slowly lose your passion over time. A life of wasted potential.
Those words might have been particularly harsh for Caroline, but they might as well have been for Marvin.
He clenched his fists and charged.
He was met with a flurry of snaps and punches. Swords sliced through thin air, dodges landed in poor spots. He backed off slightly, spinning his torso twice to generate power for the Maevis Converter. Then he charged and met the claw head-on, catching it with his shields. He prepared to push, but something suddenly sparked within him and his arms gave out.
Marvin's heart stopped. The converter had overheated.
Meridian V's claw slammed into Marvin's face. He skidded across the floor like a ragdoll, losing a few bolts. The opponent was there a millisecond later with another haymaker to the face. Marvin blocked the third punch, but Meridian V angled its claw down and snapped it shut, catching his leg. Then he was in the air, spinning once, twice, thrice, then chucked across the arena.
Marvin readjusted as quickly as possible, stabilizing himself with one violently wobbling saber. He had not recovered in time. Meridian V was in the air before he knew it, bearing down on him with those giant, metal jaws.
Thud.
The floor shook as three things hit it in unison. One: Meridian V's outstretched claw, hovering in the corner of Marvin's vision. It had missed him by a few inches.
Two: Marvin's right knee. It looked foreign, out of place. No such impact had caused it to move there.
And three: Marvin's right arm.
He realized that he had hit the switch to forfeit.