“Good morning, Miss Calista Medley. It is now 6:15 in the morning of January 20^th, 2350 in the city of Washington D.C. The USCT’s TelePortation is scheduled at 8:00 AM in TelePort 7 in the Travel District.”


    ===


    The triple-decker Air-Bus carrying the 150 members of the USCT smoothly approached the heart of LA, which held the large expanse of area that was the Arena. Of course, there were dozens of different fighting arenas and many different buildings that made up the venues for the international tournament.


    The jewel of the Arena was the massive cylinder that held most facilities for both competitors and fans. The battle maps, Sky-Coasters, food courts, and more were held in the monolith of a building, where monstrous-sized crowds gathered to see their favorite country teams. Hundreds of country flags decorated the building like a multicolored streamer wrapped around the body. The American flag was at the very top, enlarged so everyone could see it waving.


    Calista’s green eyes sparkled in admiration and awe. LA was a lot more beautiful than she ever imagined. Even the virtual visits didn’t do it justice. And the festive, bustling environment of the tournament made it even better. People crowded in the streets and flanked the bus, blocked off by invisible barriers, waving flags and projecting freeze shots of their favorite fighters.


    As they passed, to her shock, Calista saw a group of girls who… reminded her of her old friends. They couldn’t be older than 15. The way they dressed and fangirl-squealed was so… Socializer-like of them. One of them projected a freeze shot of Harrison, screaming like a banshee.


    Ah. Of course.


    “Hey, Medley, there’s your crowd,” a voice commented behind her. She turned, seeing Hillary smirking at her from the other row of seats. “You don’t want to give your friends a hello? They might want to know how GP it is to be around Harrison all the time.”


    She rolled her eyes, ignoring the snickering. She hoped she got another opportunity to kick the glitch out of her. She would have to train a lot harder, though. Hillary had treated her like a child’s game, severely underestimating her skill. Now that she knew Calista was serious, she would be a lot more prepared.


    The Air-Bus stopped in front of one of the many lanes leading into Opening Ceremony tent, which was only set up for the night and would be taken down once the ceremony was over. The lane they stopped at was assigned to ‘Team USA’. Lisa turned to the students, standing at the front of the bus. “Student Coaches will line up and file out. Favorites come next, in order of Guild. Same goes for non-Favorite Guild members. The rest of you will file out in order of rank.”


    Harrison lined up behind all nine of his comrades. After a few moments, they were directed to disembark the Air-Bus. Calista grew nervous when the cheers outside, muted by the soundproof walls of the vehicle, grew more intense. Through the one-way window, there were scores of reporters, flying Pets, and lights waiting for them. Some Pets flitted to the window, trying to get freeze shots inside, but they wouldn’t be able to see through.


    The team was dressed in their brand-new USA combat suits. They wouldn’t actually be using them today, but the entrance to the Arena always had the suit presentation. They were all in blue and red, the USA flag on their shoulder pads. Guild members didn’t have their patches on anymore; instead, they had a badge on the right chest. SCs and Favorites had an additional badge below with either ‘SC’ or ‘F’ engraved.


    The more people walked out, the worse Calista felt. With all the backlash surrounding her, she wasn’t sure how they would receive her. No one truly knew how hard she’d worked in the academy, and the reporters had pretty negative opinions about her making the team.


    Sure, that fan that came up to her the previous day had lifted her spirits, but she was probably part of a tiny minority. She was the only one that had recognized her, or not given her the stink eye.


    “Here.” Lílitha held out a glass with strange brown liquid.


    Calista took it hesitantly. “What is it?”


    “Panic tonic. You look like you’re about to die.”


    “Oh. Um… AIDA, could you make that a raspberry flavor, please?” she asked.


    The liquid turned pink and Calista gulped it down. She took a breath and tried to calm her shot nerves. Looking at Lílitha again, the little woman was staring at her with slight ridicule. “What?” she asked.


    “Does everything have to be pink with you?”


    “The regular one is uber-nasty. I can’t drink that.”


    Lílitha only shook her head. “Alright. Anyway. When you get out there, please do not model, pose, or flirt with any of the Pets. Just keep your eyes forward, ignore the reporters, and look casual.”


    “So candid shots only?”


    “Exactly. No posing or anything. This is not a runway or a Miss Milky Way red carpet. Okay?”


    Calista scoffed. “For your information, Lílitha, I’m not always looking for attention. I’m not as vain as you think I am.”


    “Calista, I have seen you check yourself out in the reflection of your spoon.”


    The girl silenced. She had a point. “Force of habit,” she muttered.


    “Look, it’s not just you. It’s normal to like this part of the job. All this glamorous attention, people screaming when they see you… it’s a lot to take in. You either panic and throw up in front of everyone, or you embrace it and start showing off. But as fighters, it’s best to keep our cool and act like we don’t care. Keep the neutrality.”


    “Harrison likes to-”


    “Harrison is Harrison, and who he is, is arrogant. But he has some room to be arrogant. You don’t.”


    Calista blew out another breath. “Got it. Don’t look or talk at anyone, don’t pose, just keep going, right?”


    “No smiling, either. Don’t look miserable, but don’t smile. All neutral.”


    “Okay. No smiling.”


    “You can pose all you want at the shot sessions we’ll have later. Knowing you, you’ll love that part.”


    She didn’t admit it out loud, but that sounded stellar. She couldn’t wait to see how awesome she looked.


    The Favorites then left the bus together, Lílitha and Calista walking side-by-side at the back. The full volume of the cheers hit Calista’s ears, overwhelming her slightly. The suit detected the reaction and provided her with mild soundproofing to relieve her. She could also hear the Versus Games anthem echoing across the sky.


    The attention was overwhelming. Voices overlapping one another, fans screaming their throats out, lights and holograms and Pets everywhere. Many of them flew up close to catch Calista’s face. Following Lílitha’s advice, she kept her expression neutral and didn’t spare them a glance.


    She couldn’t help looking at the lucky fans at the front of the barrier, though. Most were cheering for the more famous fighters like Rosalina or even Lílitha. A few at the front booed Calista upon seeing her, bringing down her spirits.


    “Ignore them,” Lílitha said to her through their earpieces. “They’re not worth it.”


    As they approached the door, Calista found another group of young teens screaming, one of them waving directly at her. She nearly stopped, not expecting to have any fans in the crowd. The teens all looked the Socializer type, with the same fashion style and disposition she had before the academy.


    This was the second time she saw someone so excited to see her in this world. Were Socializers starting to take an interest because of her?


    She couldn’t help smiling kindly and waving as she passed the group. They screamed even louder, jumping with joy. Lílitha quickly stretched her hand out and pulled Calista’s wrist down. “No waving. What did I just say?”


    “They were so cute.”


    “Ugh.” Lílitha tried to hide her frustration. “You are not helping your case here.”


    They finally entered the circular tent. It was huge, with monstrously high, domed, transparent ceilings and warm lights filling the room. Voices echoed and bounced off the walls. The 32 teams all converged, their lines pointing at the large circle stage in the middle of the hall. From a bird’s eye view, their lined-up teams formed a star, which would be freeze-shot as tradition.


    There were all sorts of colors present. Many teams shared USA’s colors, but they could still be singled out. England’s suits were mainly blue, but had more white than red accents. France’s suits were white with blue and red sleeves, matching their flag.


    Then there were the others— Brazil proudly boasted their green and yellow. Canada was decked out in red and white. Ukraine looked amazing in blue and yellow.


    “What’s that country?” Calista eyed a blue and white team. “Argentina?”


    “No, Argentina’s over there.” Lílitha pointed at a different team wearing blue suits with white and gold accents. “That’s… Guatemala.”


    “What about that one?” She pointed at another team with white suits, but they had blue diagonal stripes.


    “Uruguay.”


    Impressed, Calista said, “You’re good.”


    “No, I’m just looking at the flags up there.” Lílitha pointed to the hologram flags above each archway, which had the country names below.


    A Mercearthian man’s hologram appeared on the stage, towering over everyone like a giant. He spoke, his voice resonating through the room, but in an alien language. Calista’s translator activated so she could understand him.


    “May I have your attention, please?” The room quieted. All eyes were now on the man.


    “Welcome, Versus fighters of Earth, to the 2350 Versus International Preliminary Games!” Cheers followed, then he spoke again. “For those uninformed, I am Secondary Chairman of the Versus Interplanetary Peacekeeping Games, Halo Charrier. I am very, very excited for this year’s games. The prelims are criminally underrated, in my opinion. So much happens in this weeklong tournament on every planet, but compared to the Interplanetaries, not much is heard. I hope, that with many interesting contenders in the teams this year, this stage can shine through.” They applauded again.


    “With this new Versus year comes a new era. Primary Chairman of the Versus Games, Waelon Gaillart, has stepped down from his position, ending his term from 2330. For the next twenty years, we will now be under the gracious leadership of a new Versus head, who will surely preserve the Versus Peace Treaty and be the glue that holds all our planets together in this Utopia. Please welcome our new Primary Chairwoman… Bethanii Cheline, born and raised in Briegua, Planet Paeseo. This also marks an important moment in history, as she is the first female Paeseoan, and the first Paeseoan overall, to be Versus Leader. Let’s give her a hand.”


    The mentioned woman’s hologram appeared next to Halo’s. “Thank you, Halo,” said the woman, her speech also translated. She flashed the kind smile Paeseoans were known for. “Welcome, brave fighters. I am very honored to have this position, and to serve as Versus Leader for the next two Earthian decades. As I do with all the other planets, I see many capable, determined contenders among all of you here on Earth. I am excited to see the competition from a different perspective.”


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Calista heard muttering behind her and turned, noticing Lílitha frowning slightly. “Something wrong?” she asked.


    “I know this woman,” Lílitha said. “I can’t place her, but… her face…”


    “You know her personally?”


    “No, I just know her face from somewhere…” She shook her head.


    “Oh. Well, maybe you’ll remember later.”


    “It’s not a good feeling, though.”


    “What do you mean?”


    Lílitha’s black marble eyes narrowed. “I feel like… I don’t know. Something about her that feels off. I just know her face…” She then dismissed the topic, adopting a neutral expression. “Never mind. Sorry.”


    “I’m especially excited to see which one of you will be the lucky 150 that will represent Planet Earth in the main competition. At the end of the week, we’ll know who is the best of the planet this year! Have a wonderful preliminary tournament, and enjoy the Games!” Bethanii concluded.


    Digital confetti and glitter rained down as the Earth Planetary Anthem played, mixed with cheering and applause. The anthem faded into rhythmic drums and bells, quieting the crowd, and the stage platform lowered into the floor. Dancers then started appearing out of the hole, all of them flipping and cartwheeling into place like popcorn kernels. They were all humans of different nationalities, wearing different outfits and colors, representing each country. The platform rose back into place, giving them their stage.


    “Whoa,” Calista said, watching the dancers move their bodies so flexibly that she wondered if they were only half-Earthian. They spun, flipped, and stretched gracefully, never missing a beat. The soundtrack changed every minute, representing a different country’s culture, and a dancer would take a turn in the center, bringing cheers from their country’s crowd.


    “Very different from holo-dancers, aren’t they?” Lílitha said, clapping for the performance.


    “Yeah… they’re amazing!” Calista moved her hips to the rhythm.


    The dance concluded with the smiling dancers forming a giant pyramid, USA’s dancer at the top, being the host country. The venue burst into loud applause and the dancers all bowed, maintaining their pyramid as the platform below them lowered them out of sight.


    “Thank you for your attention. Please follow your respective leaders out of the lobby to the Quarters, where you will receive your dormitory assignments.”


    The teams slowly filed out of the tent, the room full of excited chatter. Calista was once again tempted to wave at the screaming fans flanking them, but decided to follow Lílitha’s advice. She stole a glance at the Mexican team on their right, who wore green and red suits, though the crowd obstructed most of them. On their left was the Canadian team.


    Calista wondered who she would wind up fighting. Who could eliminate her during the prelim rounds? Or… maybe she’d eliminate one of them. There was a chance. Chaos Rounds were full of surprises.


    Just as they were reaching the hotels, which were numerous buildings in a square surrounding a large park, connected by bridges, they heard a large crowd shouting nearby. When the fighters noticed they weren’t cheering, but chanting angrily, they all paused their walk, looking over curiously.


    Calista had to stand on her tiptoes to see above all the tall fighters. It took her a moment to realize what the rowdy crowd near the hotels was doing.


    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lílitha said, having stretched her legs so she could see above the crowd.


    Calista’s face heated up. They were protesters— Socializer protesters. There was no mistaking the eye-catching, brightly colorful hair and clothing they’d chosen, as well as the face paint they’d printed on. Their faces bore colors of red and black, which was common for them to wear in anti-Versus protests; red for blood and black for death.


    The most attention-garnering element were the projections they had magnified so everyone could see them. Besides the predictable ones like ‘MURDERERS’, ‘RAGERS’, ‘WAR MONKEYS’, and the like, there were projections of faces— her face.


    Calista standing on a pile of dead bodies, covered in blood. Calista choking an innocent Socializer and lifting her in the air. Calista raising her fist against her own mother, who cowered in the corner. The images were too outrageous to ignore.


    Lílitha retracted to her normal size and gripped Calista’s arm, pulling her to continue walking. “Don’t look. It’s what they want.”


    “They made those… they made me look like…”


    “Forget it. They want attention, so let’s not give it.”


    “WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE, CALISTA MEDLEY!” a girl screamed. While the other country teams were confused, having no idea what this was about, almost all of Team USA turned to look at Calista, who was pushing through the stopped crowd towards the hotels with Lílitha. Harrison also rushed to her side, hoping to shield her from the protesters’ sight.


    Reporters were quick to send their Pets to the barrier blocking the protesters, zooming in on the projections and their painted faces. Calista ducked her head, hoping they wouldn’t turn on her.


    “Loyalty means nothing to you,


    Nothing next to filthy fame!


    After they give a beating to you,


    You’ll wish you stayed in your lane!


    We know who you are, Medley,


    A snake who charmed us with your light!


    Now that you’ve shed that skin, Cali,


    You’ll never be a SociaLight!”


    “Socializers are very creative, aren’t they?” Hillary Kaye’s voice said from behind as they finally entered the hotel. “That’s admittedly a clever chant.”


    “Maybe her call sign should be Snakeskin,” Rosalina remarked, brushing past the human girl as she went up to the assignment kiosk in the center, receiving her room number and access.


    “Calista ‘Snakeskin’ Medley. Nice ring. Maybe you can peel off that fake skin of yours after all that work you had done.” Hillary giggled as she also passed Calista, Bark at her side, remaining silent.


    “You okay?” Harrison asked. “I know that could’ve been a bit…”


    “I’m fine.” Calista fake-smiled, a lump tightening her throat. She glanced at the other country teams pouring in. Most of them hadn’t noticed her, mostly laughing about the incident, but there were a few eyes on her.


    She didn’t think they’d actually come here and do this. She was better off being an unknown fighter with only rumors under her name that most of the world didn’t care about. Now that these people were here…


    ===


    Calista was brought some comfort when she reached her hotel room. The rooms were even fancier than the dorms at the academy; each of them had their very own in their respective country’s building. The room was large and spacious, with a queen-sized sleep capsule; a large clothing storage for her new outfits, which she would definitely buy during the trip; a nice, big HARP corner; a study area; and a personal CDSim with the basic functions she’d need for a good workout or brief training session.


    Calista sat at her comfy armchair, which was placed in front of a digital fireplace burning in hot pink. She’d wasted no time in decking her entire room out in shades of her favorite colors. Her walls were pastel pink, the curtains white, and her sleep capsule matched her capsule back home in Indiana.


    She stared at the fake pink flames, still seeing the horrible images the protesters were showing her. She kept thinking back to the first time she’d talked to her mother since she went to Fistborn, during Thanksgiving break, when Jennifer had jumped away in fear simply because she’d raised her voice out of frustration. It hurt her like a stab to the stomach. Did Jennifer really think she’d hurt her, as the protesters portrayed in their projections?


    “Camelithia Courier and Belinda Adenifi have requested to enter,” said the AIDA.


    “Let them in.”


    They entered, dressed in their formal school uniforms, without their Guild identification. “Hey,” said Cam. “Are you feeling alright?”


    “I’m fine, I guess. Just dealing with it. Fireplace off.” The flames flickered away. “Why are you guys in uniform?”


    “They always hold a social dinner for the teams to fraternize,” said Camelithia. “It’s appropriate to wear your uniform. You should come with us. It’s good to establish some friendly relationships with the other fighters. If we get on the planet team, any one of them could be our new teammates.”


    “I don’t feel like it.”


    “Since when do you not like… well, socializing? It’ll be fun! Most of them don’t know who you are.”


    “If enough of those ex-fans of mine come around, they just might.”


    “Well, then, don’t let that be your introduction. This is your chance to introduce yourself as you,” said Belinda. “And by really getting to know you, they might decrease their urge to try and specifically eliminate you tomorrow.”


    “Or it’ll make them hate me more.”


    “Come on, Cali. Please?” Cam said, giving her puppy eyes, which were made more adorable by her pink, sparkly, rhombus irises.


    She looked at the two, then sighed, rising from the chair. “Alright, fine.” She changed into her uniform and followed them out.


    The dinner was held in a large room on the first floor, next to the lobby. All the fighters were dressed in their uniforms. Some countries’ uniforms were similar or equal to Fistborn’s in terms of design, while many others took on a more modern, non-traditional feel. Kenya had colorful shirts and pants, allowing their students to wear jewelry. Germany’s students only wore matching jackets, using any pants or skirts they wanted. Switzerland had full body suits that were red at the top, then gradually turned white towards the bottom.


    “Where do we sit?” Calista asked Cam.


    “Wherever our names are… there.” They went over to a table where their names were hovering. Calista sat next to Belinda. On her right was a human boy from Mexico, who looked a bit younger than her. On Cam’s left was an older Martian girl from Italy.


    They ordered their meals, which promptly appeared before them. Calista glanced around, nervously nibbling on the salad she’d ordered. “What do we do?” she whispered to Belinda.


    “We just… talk, I suppose.”


    “Okay…” Calista was usually good at starting up conversation, but with the current circumstances, she wasn’t sure about talking to these people. She pushed down every Socializer instinct she had.


    The Mexican boy noticed her fidgeting and smiled charmingly. “Hi,” he said, his mouth pronouncing the word in Spanish.


    “Hey,” she said awkwardly.


    “I’m Javier Monterrey; Sodio Fighting School.” He shook her hand. “American, right?”


    “Yeah. I’m Calista Medley. From Fistborn Academy.”


    “A pleasure. You’re pretty lucky. I hear Fistborn’s a great school.”


    Relieved by the boy’s amiable approach, she relaxed a bit. “Yeah, it is. I’ve learned a lot.”


    “I imagine. If you’re here, you’re a good fighter.”


    “Thank you. Are you here for the first time, too?”


    “Yeah. My brother’s here, too, he’s…” He looked around until he spotted his family member. “There he is. Daniel.” He waved to an older boy a few tables away. Calista also waved politely. “He’s been here before; it’s his second year. He didn’t make the Earth team, though, so he’s trying again.”


    “I hope I get on the team, too.”


    “You’ve made it this far. I feel like us humans aren’t taken as seriously, don’t you think? But, hey, you saw those dancers. We can do a lot. I suppose we just need to show it off more.”


    A ding sounded and the lights flashed. Everyone rose from their tables. “Uh, what happened?” Calista asked.


    “This works like a speed date,” Cam explained. “We go to different tables to meet everyone.”


    “Oh.” Calista smiled at Javier and shook his hand. “Nice meeting you.”


    “Good luck.”


    Calista followed the girls to another table, but someone took the last seat before she could. Cam looked at the man; a Mercearthian from Canada. “Um… excuse me? My friend was about to sit there.”


    He didn’t spare her a glance. “She can sit somewhere else.”


    Cam was indignant, but Calista stopped her. “It’s fine, Cam. I’ll go somewhere else.” She didn’t want to make a scene over a chair.


    She sat at a nearby table, freezing immediately when she saw Rosalina at the other side. The woman either didn’t notice her or didn’t care, talking to a Klausian man from Belgium. Calista’s meal appeared before her so she could continue. “Hello, everyone,” she greeted politely.


    Most of the fighters took notice and returned the ‘hello’. “I’ve seen your face before,” a Martian girl from France said. She turned to her friend, asking her something. The translator was disabled to keep her question private.


    The other girl shrugged and shook her head cluelessly, glancing at Calista. The Martian girl rolled her eyes. “Where have I seen you?” she asked Calista.


    “Um…” She really hoped they wouldn’t recall the face on the huge projections. Hopefully, France’s team had been too far to get a clear view. “Maybe in the lobby earlier?” she said. She glanced at Rosalina, who continued her conversation with the Belgian.


    “Anyway. You’re American?” the girl asked.


    “Mm-hmm.”


    “Cool. Is it your first time?”


    “Yeah. My first year at my school, too.”


    “Wow. Good job. Getting on the team that fast is always a good look.”


    The conversation with the French student was pleasant, though she kept trying to figure out where’d she’d seen Calista’s face. Thankfully, the lights blinked before she could remember.


    Calista tried to reunite with Cam and Belinda, but the former found an old friend of hers on the British team, choosing to sit with her for the round. Belinda and Calista went to a different table, since the other was occupied.


    This table was a bit more awkward. They all happened to be from the ‘higher’ species, like Voraxians and Emitonians. Being the only human there, Calista felt slightly threatened. They were all standoffish and hardly paid her and Belinda any mind.


    The girls then reunited with Cam, who brought her friend, a Seeyastearthian girl. “Girls, this is my bestie, Ethel. We grew up in Manchester together. Ethel, these are Belinda and Calista.”


    “Nice to meet you.” The girl shook their hands. “I’m with a group of mates at a table, do you girls want to join?”


    “Please,” Belinda said.


    They arrived at Ethel’s table, which was full of British students. “Everyone, these are my besties from America,” Cam said, presenting the two. “This is Belinda, and that’s Calista.”


    “Calista?” A Mercurian girl eyed the Earthian. “Isn’t that the girl those yellers were singing about?”


    Glitches. Calista paused from eating.


    “So, Calista here’s in her first year,” Camelithia began, trying to change the subject, but to no avail.


    “What were they singing about you for?” the Mercurian girl asked.


    “I looked her up,” said a mousy-face Earthian boy. “She was a Socializer, apparently. Used to run a little channel up until now, when she went to her academy.”


    All eyes were on her now. Calista’s throat was dry. She glanced at Cam for help, but it seemed that even her outgoing self couldn’t find a way to take attention off the subject.


    “A Socializer? How’d you get in?” another boy asked.


    Calista found her voice and cleared her throat. “Um… by training?” She drank her water.


    “Well, everyone trains. I imagine you didn’t train for a while if you were a Socializer,” said the Mercurian girl.


    “W-well… I started training when I realized that I… I didn’t want to have a channel anymore. I want to fight and work towards a goal.” Calista wrung her hands below the table.


    “I reckon your mum wasn’t happy about your sudden career change,” said the human boy, who Calista spitefully dubbed ‘Mouseface’ in her head. “I’ve heard that American Socializers really don’t take kindly to the Games.”


    “Obviously not, Sherlock. You saw those people with their projections and their masks. Quite scandalous,” said another girl, raising her brows at Calista.


    “Yeah, that’s true… but…” She cleared her throat. “Um, there’s actually a group of Socializers that are into the Versus. But they’re not as popular.”


    “Everyone…” Cam raised a brow. “She’s here now, she’s worked hard, and she’s a fighter now. I hardly think her past or her family is any of your business.”


    Awkward silence.


    “Anyway… Ethel, we still haven’t finished catching up. What have you been up to with all of… these people?” She gave the rest of the table the stink eye.


    Camelithia successfully shifted the conversation for the rest of the round, but the damage was done. Calista could see the contempt and disgust in the other students’ eyes. Thanks to those brainless idiots, her image was already ruined.


    She hoped they would dub her a weak target and decide to ignore her during the rounds. If she had this many people coming after her, she’d be eliminated in seconds, along with her dream of representing Earth.