April 15, 2021. 04:00. Vancouver.
The elevator doors slide open with a ding. Flickering lights illuminate the hallway before us. I'm not sure what it is, but there's a certain tang of sweat and adrenaline that clings to the cool air down here. The kind of smell that clings to people who bleed for sport.
Our collection of guides wears heels that click softly against the concrete floor. They wear a variety of designer outfits—clearly dressed to impress. Sharp lines and dark colours define their dresses, jackets, and pants, accessorized by silver jewelry gleaming at the edges. One woman's gaze moves between me and Remi, curiosity and mischief dancing in her eyes.
"You're sure you don't wanna back out?" she smirks, her voice a mix of mockery and admiration. "Haha, I tease. Gotta say though, I respect it."
My expression doesn't change, except for my narrowing eyes. "So what's gonna happen down here?"
The woman laughs at my question. She throws her head back like she just told us the funniest joke in the world. "It wouldn't be fun if I told you, now would it?" She winks. "Just… stay sharp and try not to cry when you're thrown in the ring. You'll do fine... maybe… probably."
I raise an eyebrow. "Real comforting."
"Nah, we got this." Remi nudges me on the shoulder and continues walking down the hallway.
Eventually, the women lead us into a stark locker room before heading back. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a pale glow on nearby Dead Kings guards lingering in the corners. Their eyes jump from Remi to me, and then back to Remi.
There is tension in the room, one born from unknown faces and uncertain feelings towards both parties. Are we still enemies? Does Remi's ridiculous ego-laced hate boner still drive this relationship? I have no damn clue. The guards exchange glances and low murmurs with one another. One of them is a wiry man with a scar slicing through his eyebrow. He snorts softly and wraps his hand around another's ear.
"Didn't think Remi was actually for real. Guess I was wrong." His voice is faint, but just audible enough that I can still hear him despite the ridiculous noise above us.
Another Dead King, broader than the others, smiles politely and steps forward. His smile is one of approval and he quickly nods at me and Remi. "Highkey respect. No one's done this in a while. Good luck, you're gonna need it."
Remi folds his arms and flashes a cocky grin. "Nah dawg, we got this in the bag."
I roll my eyes but say nothing, my focus is instead on the body language of the guards. There's no malice, no hidden threat—just a mix of respect and amusement. Odd, considering how earlier tonight we almost flatlined each other, but Blake's word is the law here.
The broad guard reaches into a nearby cooler and pulls out two cans. Familiar brightly coloured labels stand out in the grim surroundings as he holds them out for us.
"You'll want these. Trust me."
Remi snatches one without hesitation. He pops it open with a hiss and takes a long drink before throwing it away. "Shit broski, don't gotta tell me twice."
I eye the can warily. I only drink these when I'm in dire need at the gym or on the job. "You're giving us an energy drink… at four in the morning?" My initial thoughts suggest they want to poison us, but the absurdity of the situation makes me dismiss the idea almost instantly. "What the fuck…"
The guard chuckles. "It'll keep you on your feet. Don't worry, it's clean. But if you skip it... well, don't complain when you drop in the first ten seconds."
My brow furrows. "First ten seconds?"
"The gauntlet is gonna hit you fast and hard. You're gonna need all the help you can get."
I hesitate, glancing at the can in his hand. It's morning, I'm tired as shit, and caffeine may be entering my system. Just how bad is the gauntlet? Then again, I'd rather have a slightly messed up sleep schedule instead of a trip to the hospital. "Fine." I grab the can, crack it open, and take a sip.
And then, my senses kick into overdrive, my head simultaneously clearing and filling with a buzzing noise. "OH FUC—" The taste is sharp and artificial. It's like someone blended citrus with battery acid. I cough and my eye twitches. "This tastes like shit!" I shudder with newfound energy.
"Better shit than injured or dead." The guard quips, earning a laugh from his peers.
"What the hell did you mix with this?" I stare at him in disbelief. "There's no way this is from the store."
"It's our secret mix."
"It's fucking gasoline." I stick my tongue out and fight the urge to retch. "Do I smell… pre-workout?" I blink and sniff my can. Did these dumbasses mix some unholy abomination in this basement?
"Anyways, once you finish that, pass us your gear." The broad Dead King offers us his hand, beckoning for our equipment.
"Wait, you want our gear?" I freeze in place, my free hand gripping my duffle bag tightly.
"Gauntlet rules. No weapons or gadgets."
"You're kidding me." I finish my can and throw it in a nearby garbage bin.
"Nope, we'll make sure your gear is here. Trust me, Blake won't let us screw this up."
My eyes narrow, scanning him for any sign of deceit. Calm expression and firm tone. The other guards nod in agreement, their confidence unwavering.
"This is bullshit," I mutter, my grip tightening on my drink. "So I bring in absolutely nothing?"
"Rules are rules, miss." The guard's tone is even and his stance remains solid. "Trust me, you'll get why once you're in there." Either they're decent at lying or they're serious, there's nothing about their body language that tells me of obvious lying or ulterior motives. In either case, I'm not exactly in a position to argue.
Remi shrugs and sets his things down. "Aight, no big deal." He hands over several pocket knives.
I sigh as Remi surrenders his items temporarily. Reluctantly, I set my bag, pouch, and other items down. My jaw tightens as I remove my knife and pistol, my last remaining defence. I gently arrange everything into a neat pile on the side of the room. One of the Dead Kings whistles a low tune, eyeing my inventory.
"This better be worth it." I glare at the Dead Kings and then step away from the pile. "Touch any of my shit and I cut your fucking balls off."
The guards laugh, a mixture of mostly humour and a little fear. They shuffle aside and gesture toward the other side of the locker room. Remi and I move past them, making our way to the exit doors. They offer parting words laced with a mix of encouragement and teasing.
"Good luck out there."
"If you make it through, drinks are on us."
"We'll be waiting!"
I scowl, but Remi gives them a thumbs-up. "Appreciate it, chooms!"
"If my gear gets stolen, I swear to God…" I mutter under my breath while shaking my head. We enter a corridor that is almost entirely dark, except for a massive light at the end of the tunnel. Chanting and cheers mask any noise the doors make as the Dead Kings behind us close them.
Remi leans close to me, cupping his hands around his mouth. The noise of the area ahead is so loud that I can barely hear him shouting. "I bet it'll be like an obstacle course! Shit like, making us run through fire or dodge bullets… or something like that! That'd be hella sick!"
I shake my head. "There's no way it's gonna be that simple!" I attempt shout-replying in return, hardly able to hear my voice as we approach the light.
"Y'know, whatever this is, it's gotta mean somethin' crazy! Word's got history—like Middle Ages knights or some shit! Trial by combat and all that stuff!"
I blink, genuinely surprised. "Since when did you read up on history?! Didn't think you to be a history guy!"
Remi smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "Hey, gotta know some words to write good lyrics! Can't spit bars if I don't got bars, feel me?"
"What the hell does 'don't got bars' even mean?!" I look at him with confusion but we arrive at the end of the tunnel before we can continue.
We step out into an arena that immediately takes me aback. Huge blinding spotlights overhead flood a sand-filled arena with harsh light while a sea of bodies on the bleachers screams their lungs off. I squint, shielding my eyes as I take in more of the scene: stone walls arranged like cover in a war zone, battered old cars scattered around with dents and scrapes, and jagged terrain.
"The hell!? This is straight-up a battlefield!" I shout, walking toward a man in a suit and tie waving at us standing in the middle of the area. And a massive marshmallow…?
Remi trails after me, looking around the area. "Ayoooo, they went all out! That's crazy, dawg!"
As we get closer, I'm left speechless, mouth wide open. What the hell? It's not the terrain that confuses me or the setting—it's Blake, he's standing in the center of the arena, except he's no longer the black mechanical hulk of power. Upon closer inspection, his cybernetic frame is decked out in comically oversized white padding, duct tape holds layers of foam and rubber in place over his body like a DIY suit of armour.
Remi and I get closer to Blake, my mouth is finally able to form words. "What in the actual fuck am I looking at?"
"Holy shit," Remi breathes, eyes wide. "He's the challenge?!"
Blake grins at our expressions, his red cybernetic eyes glowing faintly under the spotlights. "What, expecting something else?" His booming laugh echoes through the arena as he takes a heavy step forward, to us. "Bet you weren't expecting me to be the boss battle, huh?"
Blake stops a few feet away from us. He looms over us like a damn titan. "Rules are simple. Two minutes. All you gotta do is survive without getting knocked out—or better yet, get me to tap out. That's the gauntlet."
Remi takes a step back, confidence faltering as he glances around the arena. He looks at Blake from head to toe, taking in the sheer size and strength of difference. "Uh… yeah. Sure. Easy."
I don't respond immediately. Instead, my mind is already racing as I study the terrain, noting potential hiding spots and cover. Two minutes. That's… a long time.
Blake taps his cushioned fist against his body. "To make it fair, I've padded myself up. Can't have you two dying on me, now can I?" His gaze then flicks to me, his grin widening. "By the way, I don't think I ever caught your name."
I stop analyzing the area, freezing on the spot thanks to the question. Gina is clearly a no, but if I gave him Artemis… no, that's going to complicate my work as a freelancing assassin. I rake my memories for anything to use as inspiration. Think, think, think… what can I use… OH! After a brief moment of hesitation, I smile and answer, "Lily. Let's just use that, for now." My mother's favourite flower.
Blake tilts his head slightly, confusion written on his face because of how long I took to answer, but he nods in the end. "Lily, huh? Fair enough. You're mysterious—I like that." He waves over a few Dead Kings standing nearby, who quickly exchange words and spread out across the arena.
Blake then strolls back to the other side of the arena, far away from us. The Dead Kings' MC steps forward, holding a microphone that crackles slightly as he speaks with intense enthusiasm.
"Alright, chooms, listen up! Tonight's entertainment is gonna be legendary! You know what time it is, and you know what you came for! So let's get right into it!" The crowd explodes into cheering that I thought couldn't get any louder. Guns fire off in the distance and I'm pretty sure fireworks are exploding somewhere in the upper floors.
Not letting the hype die, the MC points over at Blake and the lights focus on him as the introduction commences. This is fucking ridiculous, it's like I'm watching a boxing match. "On one side, we've got our fearless leader, the one, the only, the founder of our happy family… Blake Cunningham!" The crowd erupts into cheers. "Long may he reign!" Blake smirks at both me and Remi, lightly smacking his padded fists together. "It's been months since someone decided to enter the gauntlet, and for good reason! It's the best way to end up in a wheelchair!"
With a smirk and a flex of the robot-padded biceps, Blake furthers the crowd hype. "Baby, you know it!" He points at the crowd and does another ridiculous superhero-esque pose.
"And on the other side…" The MC gestures dramatically toward myself and Remi, the lights immediately jump from Blake to us. "We've got a challenger duo! First up, you know him, you 'love' him—the man who's about to fill AXIS's shoes: Remi!" Remi kisses his fist and sticks it out into the air. Jesus Christ, save me. "And boy, do we have some heated history with this young buck! Like, seriously, pissing off AXIS and practically throwing fists at everyone he can see! The balls of this young Vancouverite! But tonight, things are gonna change, and we're all for it, if he can handle the consequences!"
The crowd cheers and boos at Remi, which only furthers the excitement. Remi strikes a peace sign into the air and waves it at those who cheer, while his other hand forms a middle finger to those who disapprove of him. The MC laughs and coughs into the microphone momentarily at the display of audacity and then points to me.
"But alongside the blabbermouth, we have a mysterious new gunwoman! Someone, who has already impressed Blake with her lightning reflexes, and disarmed one of our soldiers in one move! A cunning and dazzling sassy beauty in that hoodie! A woman that no one here knows at all! Going by a mysterious name and not much else to work off of, please welcome… Lily!" The crowd cheers and claps in my direction. Though I try to keep my face neutral, my lips twitch involuntarily. Internally I'm cringing, I love being admired and all, but this isn't my preferred field of fame.
Remi nudges my side. "C'mon, brah! Smile!"
"Hell no," I glance at him, arching a brow. I allow for little expression on my face and speak with a low tone, wary of this possibly being live-streamed all over the media. "Let's get this over with." I just hope this won't be enough to screw me over in the future.
"Aight, suit yourself!"
The MC leans into the microphone, a grin audible even through just his voice. "Contestants, any last words before we start?"
Blake waves from his corner. "Hah! Good luck, you'll need it!" He winks at us, and I roll my eyes in return.
Remi grins, his confidence slowly returning. "Oh, don't worry, big man! We're winning this!" Remi then quickly grabs me by the shoulder, rasping into my ear. "Oh, by the way, you got a game plan? He seems kinda big, ain't no way he moves well, right?"
I simply nod, my lips pressed into a thin line. "Yeah, someone of his size and bulk… he's gotta have issues maneuvering around. I got an idea." The confidence is clear in my voice. With what I know from Azure and my brief self-study of cybernetics in the past, I should be able to at least hold on for a bit. Truth be told, I've never actually fought a cyborg, so this is gonna be a first, even for me. But surely it won't be that bad, I think.
"Sick, I'll follow your lead."
The MC smirks at us. "Alright, you two, whatever you're planning, hopefully, it works!" He laughs wholeheartedly and then gestures at the rest of the crowd. "And folks, you heard it here first! They're ready to go! Now, as a reminder for all! 2 minutes to either survive Blake's onslaught or to get him to tap out! With that being said… let's get this show on the road!"
The MC pulls out a phone and taps once on the screen. "ANDDDDD, GO!" Horns blare, drowning out everything but the deafening cheers and screams.
I take in a deep breath and ready myself for Blake's… heavy footsteps… thudding against the sand at surprising breakneck speed. Oh, he's fast… WAY TOO FAST FOR HIS SIZE. Panic quickly sets in my caffeinated system and I urgently grab Remi by the arm, screaming in his face. "REMI, I MADE A MISTAKE!"
"Wait, what? I thought you said we had a plan!?" Remi looks at me, absolutely dumbfounded.
Before I can respond, Blake closes the distance in seconds. He looks at us with a crazed look in his eye. He winds up his left arm, readying himself as he's about to swing. "Helloooo!" His face is demonic, and I realize I've severely underestimated him.
Fuck.