《Remnants》 Prologue Somehow I remember it all. The scorched fields, the black mask, the yellow concrete cascading to the ground, the blood. The day it all happened, it ended, it began, memories coming in waves forcing me to face horrors I tried so hard to put away. I was 6, yes that''s where the memories begin, I was 6. To young, far too young to understand or comprehend what I saw that day. Mi hermano, hermana, all of us playing on the uneven concrete of the school Americanos built for us. The ball, a ragged soccer ball with the white and black spots gone revealing the ugly brown underneath, slipped through my fingers and rolled out onto the dirt road. The black mask, the black car, go hand in hand as the arrival of one came with the arrival of the other. It drove up destroying my soccer ball and my life in the process, or did it help start my life? I mean if they had never come would I still be in the village? Some rice farmer working for the man? It is impossible to know if I would have shared that fate like my father, living just to please someone else. Knowing you¡¯re worth nothing more that than the few dollars you get a day from breaking your back in the mud. I guess for that I am thankful that I was able to get away, but I am never grateful for the black mask because in order to start my new life they tore my other one away, the good and the bad. The fire could be seen burning in the distance. The palace of yellow that all our hard earned money went to. You see my father worked everyday in the mud getting rice to feed our family and got paid no more than 3 or 4 dollars a day to pick thousands of grains, and then give that money back to get barely two hundred grains to feed us. That day when the palace fell it should have been a glorious day of my village finally earning its freedom from the man but it wasn¡¯t. Why wasn¡¯t it? What am I missing? Who burnt it down? It doesn¡¯t matter now I guess, all that does is the black car, the black mask. It came rumbling down the road about about 30 minutes after the fire started to burn and crushed my soccer ball before stopping in front of me and my siblings. Three, four, no three men with their black mask came out of the car. Two of them with large firearms, one a 20 gauge sleek automatic shotgun, Johnson¡¯s favorite, the other a standard issue Scar-H hollow point. I didn¡¯t know any of this at the time but remembering it now I realize what they were and even who was wielding them as they cut down my family tree. The last man standing in the back with his hands behind his back standing in a possession of power with a simple pistol sheathed at his side. We stood there looking up at them with wide eyes wondering what these gringos wanted with a small village like Cotui. The one in front of me, a burly man with big arms with giant veins and calves the size of telephone poles and an even bigger belly looked back at the man standing in power, a man slender and tall definitely older than the others with a ponytail coming down his neck, and said ¡°these too sir?¡± The man considered this for a second then looked at me through the giant dark pieces of glass that wouldn¡¯t let me see his eyes, but I could tell he was looking into my eyes. At that moment he assessed my soul as I stood their un-nerved while my siblings shook in their boots. He said in english which I didn¡¯t understand at the time ¡°yes, but leave the one in front of you alive, I think he could be useful.¡± Sounds of explosions rang out from their firearms with a flash of light blinding me, mi hermano, hermana, no...they fell. Fast, hard, hitting the ground with a deafening thud. Red sprayed across my face and my Aladdin T-shirt, Aladdin? Alibaba? Morgiana? No none of those, definitely Aladdin. There were no screams or cries just the silent drip of the blood streaming down my siblings bodies through the holes in their chest. But there was a scream, yes, a single scream, from behind the men, a woman''s scream. Mi Madre came running pushing against the men and trying to grab me and carry me to safety but, no, no she didn¡¯t get me to safety she fell like the rest. Her face went blank and eyes pale as the man in power simply put a hand against her and drained her essence, her life was being drained right in front of me as I watched her turned to dust, and blow away in the wind off to I hoped heaven. The man put black gloves on and came over kneeling before me. He took of his mask revealing his deep hazel eyes that glowed in a deadly way. He looked at me and said ¡°your family was weak, and unimportant. You however, you are strong. I feel a fire within you, and I saw it as my men cut your family to the ground and you didn¡¯t even flinch.¡± He put his hand on my shoulder ¡° you are better than them, and more powerful then your father. You are no longer his child, you are mine.¡± He reached behind him and pulled out a machete, my father''s machete. It¡¯s shiny silver face covered in blood, fresh, from what I can remember. If I had known at the time the horrors he would bring to my life in the future I would have taken that machete and spilled his blood upon my homeland, avenging the lives of Chammel, Chamilcha, Chicho, Fema, Chappa...but I couldn¡¯t, I didn¡¯t. I just stood there, unmoving and unsure of the things that I had seen, planted like a tree in this moment where I was on the cusp of greatness and the ultimate downfall of my spirit. He lead me to the SUV and helped me inside. We rode down the dirt road passing by makeshift houses and more black cars. Bullets flying, my countrymen dying in front of me. The river that ran through my village was dyed red with blood as bodies that I recognized flowed down it. Men with machetes running into men with black mask and being gunned down mercilessly and relentlessly as they tried to save our village from the men. As we rode we came to the clearing of the rice fields that spread for miles and I got my first clear view of the flames as they starting coming down the field. It was almost sanctifying as it burned away the old me making me someone new, someone I don¡¯t recognize even to this day. A man, not a man, the man. Stood with no mask with his back turned to me, his maroon blazer, black slacks, and maroon Nikes. He had his hands on his hips just enough that I could see the assortment of knives below on his leather belt, glistening their brass glow against against the flames. We drove onward for a couple of hours, I didn¡¯t speak, or make a sound, I couldn¡¯t think or move I was just stuck in this state of perpetual paralysis, I didn¡¯t even ponder what had happened, I was just...blank. We arrived at an airfield where a white jet awaited us. An emblem of a tiger with it¡¯s eyes ablaze was plastered on the side of the plane piercing my younger self with it¡¯s fiery eyes. I was lead into the jet taking each step like I was stepping on hot coals purifying me and making me new, but the thing that made me new, the real fire, was inside. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The interior was luxurious and beautiful, more beautiful than any house or place I had ever seen in my impoverished life. The seats were genuine fine brown leather, with mahogany tables and wood paneling. Fancy glass bottles filled with strange brown liquids, alcohol I suppose, were placed in compartments across the cabin. In the very back of the plane a curtain hung down impeding my view of what was beyond, all I could see was a faint blue glow creeping from the seams trying to get through and shed its ravenous light throughout the cabin. My ¡°father¡± led me to the curtain and opened it with a swift motion to reveal a extravagant metal chair with wires and cords going every which way leading into a headset glowing blue at the top the chair. I should have been reluctant, I should have run away, but no, no I was a fool, a kid, what could I have done to stop this chair, these men from taking everything away in as little as 30 seconds. They strapped me into the chair with leather straps around my legs and wrist. They tightened them a little tighter than I felt necessary but I had no idea what was going on. A man with turtle rim glasses and a lab coat stood near a computer hooked up to the machine. He was a squirrely looking man who had slicked back brown hair and and scruff on his chin. He couldn¡¯t have been more 30 years old and yet sleep deprivation made him look 20 years older with his saggy bags and grumpy demeanor. Joseph, yes his name was Joseph, he was my friend, my creator, but now he¡¯s...where is he? He pressed some buttons on the computer and looked to my ¡°father¡±. ¡°The machine is ready when you are commander, the output has hit the adequate 64% and we have enough joules to remove the 6 years requested.¡± ¡°Excellent¡± the commander said, ¡°give me a second to talk with the boy and then turn it on, I don¡¯t want anything left behind.¡± Joseph¡¯s face seemed disturbed for a second but said confidently ¡°Yes Commander King.¡± The commander looked me in the eyes once more as he had before and said to me the only thing I remembered of that day until now as things start coming back. ¡°You are my son, you are mine, you will show no mercy, and you will never give in, you are a weapon, a warrior, whose only purpose is to bring death to those who oppose our order. Welcome to the Wuxing order, Chanel son of King.¡± The machine whirred to life shedding blue light across the cabin and for the first time that day I screamed. They say there are two types of pain someone will feel in your life, physical and mental, well this machine made me feel both. I could feel, actually feel the memories, mi Hermano, mi hermana, madre, padre, all of it being sucked away to where I couldn''t find it. It wasn¡¯t buried somewhere in my mind it was gone. The took everything and everyone from me making me a blank canvas for whatever they wanted me to be. They wanted me, a six year old boy to be a killing machine that would do their bidding without question of cause, that day was the day I died, that was the day ordinance was born. Chapter 1 The fist came like lightning smashing the side of my face with relentless force. The pain came in a wave of heat that I could feel decimating my jaw, he definitely broke it, but it is my own fault for letting him get inside my defense and throwing me off guard. It¡¯s alright though, I have felt the pain before, a broken jaw isn¡¯t going to stop me from mercilessly beating him to dust. As quickly as the punch came I send two more back landing one directly into his ribs throwing him off guard and uppercutting his chin. He falls back a bit unexpectant of the pain he feels, I grab his arm breaking his elbow over my shoulder before sending a few more blows to his ribs. He cries out in pain a bit and clutches his side as he falls to the ground. Based on my hits and power I¡¯m guessing I broke at least 3 ribs. As I go in for the finisher, grabbing his midnight black shirt and readying my fist to connect with his jaw, a second punch much harder than the first sends me flying across the mat skidding on my shoulder across the floor. It doesn¡¯t feel broken but badly bruised, maybe a hairline fracture, not enough to make me stop fighting. The second man, a tall burly man comes at me with impossible speed for his weight. I am able to shift just fast enough that I block the blow from his foot heading towards my chest with my arms, the kick shatters my right forearm and sends me flying into a concrete column which I hit my back against with a thud. My arm is throbbing in pain definitely broken as the heat is more intense than the heat on my shoulder. The burly man laughs and smashes his fist into his open hand. ¡°Give it up little man,¡± the speedster giant yells at me, ¡°without a way to access the magoi in the air around you, your dead in the water against me.¡± Through blurry vision I can make out the outline of power that surrounds his body. It¡¯s a dark blue and that seems to almost shimmer, definitely a physical enhancement ward, only level one given the fact that with his current size he couldn¡¯t kick a hole through my body. Meaning he is weak compared to other mages. Unfortunately for me, I have no magoi so he holds the advantage, at least I want him to believe he does. I try to say something in response to him but the searing pain around my mouth doesn¡¯t allow me to do so. I begin to rise to my feet when I see the ward around his body grow brighter, he is about to charge me. His Magoi seems to focused on surrounding his hands and his legs given that those two places are the brightest with little dispersion among the other parts of his body. I start kick into my reserve energy and start running towards him at max speed. With my body mass and current condition I should be able to reach a maximum of seventeen kilos per hour, with his body weight of around 420 lbs with physical enhancements he can roughly travel twenty KPH if necessary. With my legs having taken minimal to no damage I should be in good condition as long as my left arm doesn¡¯t come in contact with anything. He begins to charge at me as well, putting his hands in an ¡°X¡± formation in front of him and focusing the large majority of his magoi, he obviously plans to be a battering ram. The second before he is able to make contact with me, I kick my right foot towards the ground as hard as I can, causing myself to roll violently to his left side. He continues forward, unable to control his momentum, and collides with the stone column, decimating it into chunks of rock and dust that fly across the room. He falls on the ground after impact, but after a couple of seconds stands once again with the only thing visible is the hue of his magoi through the dust. He created his own smoke screen, but he has the disadvantage of not being able to see me within it. I jump to my feet and notice a larger piece of stone that is broken off of the column. As I run into the smoke screen I grab the stone with my right hand. Based on what I can tell the smoke screen is about 20 feet wide, gives me a little bit of wiggle room but not much. Burly is swinging his hands wildly, lets magoi run from other parts of his body and be expelled from his hands as he swings. ¡°Come on Chanel,¡± he taunts, ¡°you really think a boy like you is worthy of the round table by hiding from an enemy.¡± I clench my jaw which only makes the pain worse, the anger within me begins to subside as I get a clear view of his head as he is walking around. I stay silent, and wait for my chance, when he within about five feet of me, we make eye contact. He sends s a fist towards my body, flowing with power, I dodge to the left with as he grazes my right shoulder. Using my right arm I grapple underneath is arm and use my legs to hoist myself up onto his shoulder. He begins to sag down a little from my weight but not enough to fall. His gaze meets mine as I hold the stone above his head. I don¡¯t smile, I don¡¯t grimace, I don¡¯t give any expression other than just a monotone glare at him. As if letting him know ¡°you were never even in the game.¡± He pleads for a second for me to show mercy, but I know he is just trying to reinforce his magoi around his head. Before he can even get out the ¡°please¡± I smash the stone into his forehead causing a cracking sound to come from his skull and blood to pour down his face. He screams for a second but I shove the stone in his mouth and palm strike it in deeper. His jaw unhinges and his teeth shatter as blood begins to come out of his mouth through the sides of the stone. He collapses to the ground, unconscious or dead I am not sure, It is not my job to care. The dust clears and I stand above him, bruised and broken, yet victorious. ¡°Enough¡± a loud booming voice proclaims. I look up and to my right to see a single light focused on the commander dressed in ceremonial robes a floor above me. He presses a button and the shades that cover the glass dissipate allowing natural light to flow in from the stained glass. I become illuminated with red and yellows and blues that come from a large stained glass window behind the commander featuring Achilles and Arthur hoisting the crucifix up into the air. Behind the commander is thirteen men all dressed in knights armor, but each is a bit different in color, size, and extravagance to show the difference of reputation between the knights. ¡°You have done well in the trial of combat and have become worthy to be proclaimed as a true knight before Arthur and the almighty God,¡± the commander says. He turns behind him to the thirteen knights, ¡°does any member of Arthur¡¯s court here object to one Chanel Aguilas¡¯s emmancipation into your order?¡± I can¡¯t make out the knights faces from where I am but I do see one, with armor blue like the sea and ordained with images of violent waves and dark storms, stand and approach the commander. ¡°We already know he is more than ready,¡± he turns to look at me, ¡°as soon as he completes his first quest he will be given full right to call himself a knight.¡± The blue knights teal hair shimmers in the light, he gives me a sly smile through piercing green eyes, his sarcastic nature can be discerned from a mile away. The commander opens a chest next to him and pulls out a set of armor, it is sleek and a grayish blackish color, unlike the other knights armor it is segmented for more mobility while giving up protection. ¡°Knight Andor,¡± the commander says to the teal knight, ¡°would you be so wise as to give the first honor to your new brother knight: prospect¡± ¡°It would be my dear honor to continue to look after Chanel¡± he says with his undying smirk. Andor has always been a little bit of a prick. He puts his hand over the shoulder plate and his teal magoi begins to shine around his body. The flow of magoi moves to his hand into a shimmering ball of energy he flows to a point that resembles a knife of glowing waves. He extends the knife towards the shoulder plate and begins to carve something I cannot make out from my position. As soon as he is done his body seems to condense into glowing water and flows down from the second floor onto the ground where he reforms into his human self. He struts over to be and as he approaches I kneel with my head bowed before him. ¡°NOW CHANEL!¡± he says in an obnoxiously booming voice, ¡°I ANDOR, nicknamed Poseidon, KNIGHT OF THE ROARING OCEAN! Extends the armor forward and it liquifies in his hands before leaping onto my body. It swirls around, completely immersing my body in its substance and then moves to my face where everything goes black, then an instant later my vision returns with a hood adorning my head. ¡°I NAME THEE...THE KNIGHT OF STRATEGIC COMBAT¡­ARES,¡± Andor yells out lifting his hands above him in an act of showmanship. ¡°RISE KNIGHT AND ACCEPT YOUR FATE!¡± I rise and look down at my body. My new armor is a grayish black that I saw before, it is segmented and extremely light to make up for my versatile movements. The knights and the commander stamp their different forms of weaponry against the ground as they greet me. I look to my shoulder plate and see the symbol of Arthur upon my shoulder, the golden excalibur shining against the gray. I turn my head to Andor and say: ¡°Glory to Arthur, King of Knights, and Achilles Eyre, founder of the wuxing order.¡± not have enough power to do much damage to him, but he felt it as I saw the ripple of my fist cover his face. I come down on my feet and immediately take off running to the other side of the room. He comes running after me leveling his head down hoping to ram me, but I have seen this trick before and can¡¯t be tricked by this again. I am going at roughly 23 mph and he is traveling at about 20 mph, with his mass of about 420 pounds hitting a solid object at that rate would cause a concussion even with his heightened rate of durability. I reach the concrete column on the other side of the room and quickly take my first step up the column gracefully letting the rate of momentum carry me up so I can land my second. I land my third step when I hear the rumble of his head slamming into the solid concrete shaking the structure and completely destroying the column itself. I jump doing a backflip in the air landing on my feet and putting my hand to the ground letting the energy flow out at the cushion onto the floor so I don¡¯t feel as much of the force. The man lays on the ground unconscious with blood coming from the cuts in his head. As soon as the match is over I feel all the pain I was suppressing for the battle and I let out a single tear, only one, to let me feel the pain and realize the reality around me before pushing the pain back down so I can relax and let my body heal. ¡°Well done,¡± a voice rings out from above me upon the balcony looking down upon the matt ¡°you moved a little slowly and let yourself take too many shots, but you recovered and made your move against them, the council and I deem you worthy of the honor of Garroter.¡± A small metal object is thrown down before me. It is a little wristlet shining in a silver glare with the symbol of my clan sculpted into it, the tiger¡¯s head with its eyes ablaze, and on the other side is the mark of being a Garroter. I place the trinket on my wrist and it glows in a blue light for a second as it seals itself next to my wrist and pops the other metal wristlet off showing my other rank. ¡°Thank you Father and council for your honorable decision,¡± I say in a respectful tone, ¡°I honor your decision and promise to make the clan proud and prove my devotion to our cause.¡± I kneel showing my allegiance. ¡°Report to my office to receive your first orders and partner in 24 hours.¡± Father says, ¡°you may go, Chanel son of King.¡± I walk to the side of the room where a large metal door slides open revealing a long grey hallway lined with men in black shirts. As I walk past, they kneel before me saying ¡°Garroter.¡± As soon as I reach the end, I open the door to find 12 men in clan armor, an armor made of the metal citadel sculpted to fit each of their bodies colored black with a gold outline around each piece of the armor. The symbol for the clan in in the right hand corner of each of their chest plates in gold along with their mask, all black with yellow glowing coming from the eye holes and a golden streak in different forms across their mask showing their membership to the Garroters. They form a circle around me and each take off their mask showing each of their faces of different colors and ethnicities. The one in front of me smiles widely and looks at me with deep blue eyes ¡°Chanel, with the confirmation of your wristlet we recognize that the council has made you a member of our group.¡± the people listening on around us cheer and holler in my honor, praising me for being the 13th, ¡°Welcome Garroter Chanel, the ordinance.¡± He hands me a uniform like his own and a mask with 2 gold stripes coming down each of the yellow eyes. I thank him and walk across the long lawn in the courtyard of our fortress to my house set near the the main commons area and the training grounds in the Latin district, people cheer as I pass telling me of the great honor I have received and the duty I am fulfilling to the world and calling me by my new name, Ordinance. The word Ordinance is a word of resourcefulness, replenishment. It¡¯s a name I did not expect to be given but I am thankful for it. I finally reach the house and walk inside and see that I am alone as my roommate is outside with the other Garroters. It''s a nice house, a simple up stairs and down stairs with the kitchen below and our room upstairs. The kitchen is simple only stocked with things we need and a small living room with a TV and a PSX, posters hang on the wall showing just how nerdy Davis is as he is the decorator. His favorite poster is one of a bunch of anime characters crying in an audience as Kaori and Kousei from your lie in April play on the piano and violin. I have told Davis to take it down but he insist it is a masterpiece of art and won¡¯t let it go. Other than that it is just a few posters of superheroes and the only poster I actually like of Troy and Abed from Community since we have always said, I am Abed and he really wants to be Troy. I walk upstairs to wood floors and mahogany paneling along the bottom half of the wall with the beige wall paint all across the room. A big window is in the back of the room giving a brilliant view of the valley below from the hilltop in which we established our pinnacle to our power, the fortress Eyre, named after our founder. It is a strategic place not only because invaders have to attack us at the place where we have the high ground but it also gives us a beautiful view of our dominion below. I sift through all the armor and clothing and come to the mask signifying my membership to the Gattorers. I smile and laugh a little, this is a moment I have been waiting to achieve since I was barely a boy and not only that I have finally reached this achievement but I am the youngest to ever do so. 19 years old, not even a man yet and I am honored with being a true warrior of The Wuxing clan. It is a true honor I wield with great respect, plus the valley girls love real warriors. I hear the door open behind me and turn to see Davis walking in. He looks at me and smiles widely while advancing towards me in a friendly manner, I think he wants a hug. He embraces me laughing, I grunt in pain as he squeezes almost every part of my body that has just been pummeled by a man with strength much greater than I. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Woah sorry bro,¡± he says as he steps back putting his hands up, ¡°forgot Johnson kinda kicked you into a wall, is it true that guy punched straight through that column?¡± He looks at me with wide eyes of bewilderment. Davis has always been obsessed with ¡°The Remnants¡± as the council calls them. Apparently remnants are people with extraordinary abilities, like someone who is able to run 20 mph when you weigh 420 pounds or being able to slam your hand through a 4 foot thick solid concrete column splitting it all the way through while only so much as breaking your hand. Yes these people are powerful, and yes Johnson definitely could have done a lot more damage to me but they come with a side effect. Remnants are known for having strange hallucinations and blackouts, most of them end up going crazy from the abilities affecting their brain. Most of them deal with this for about 3 or 4 months before going full on crazy from trying to comprehend the things they see. Honestly, I have never given them much of a thought. I am a strong believer in the fact that if you want to get something done it takes training, prowess, and analyzing every circumstance to make sure I am the one who walks away from the fight, not some power to preserve my mind into believing I¡¯m the best I can be because I drank some strange liquid or fell into a batch of chemicals like most ¡°superhumans¡± are made. I look at Davis as he is bouncing around giddy for details about the match. ¡°Yeah it¡¯s definitely true, He shattered most of the bones in my arm and bruised my back pretty bad. Also in the middle of the match he started flying and shooting fireballs from his eyes like a crazy dragon man!¡± I say shaking my hands in a sarcastic way then rolling my eyes at Davis. ¡°Are you serious?!¡± He looks at me with the most awestruck look on his face his mouth completely agape before, his demeanor changes, ¡°You know this uninterested douche bag routine may work well with the ladies and winning the admiration of all the younger recruits but with me, the leader of the Garroters and your best friend, I see right through it. You are the same guy who use to steal apples from old man Rico¡¯s orchard with me and free run across the valley to back here while he threatened to ¡®come after us with his Griffins¡¯,¡± Davis laughed in the way that was way to extravagant to be real. I smile a little remembering the times well before coming back to my senses and realizing that reminiscing about the past won¡¯t help me in the future especially with my first task or meeting my new partner. Davis lays down on his bed and opens up one of his favorite comics pretending to read I can tell from the fact that every few seconds he would look at me out of the corner of his eyes, also from the fact the comic is upside down. ¡°Oh come on, look around this room. Do you really expect me to be a fan of ¡®Remnants¡¯ when on my side of the room I have so much as an alarm clock, a few weapons, and some interesting literature,¡± I move my hand in a sweeping motion to highlight the books I had stacked in the corner, The Odyssey, The Iliad, The Art of War, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The battle of the Labyrinth. Compared to his side which was filled with comics and posters of guys in iron suits and shields that screamed American pride. I was always the type of person to try and find a way to keep everything nice and orderly, a clear room equals a clear mind. Davis¡¯s side looked like after the first two days of camp when you decide to give up on being organized and just throw your clothes in a general area around the bed. ¡°Says the one training day in and day out to try and make himself better than a remnant,¡± he says slyly thinking he has one upped me. ¡°I train everyday so that one day I can become a leader as great or hopefully better than my father.¡± I say trying to show him my dedication to the clan. ¡°Oh settle down King, you don¡¯t need to prove anything to me you¡¯re still that 10 year old kid who always told me we should see the world and discover the best warriors in the world and beat them all,¡± he turns and gives me a sideways look, ¡°actually you were kind of a messed up kid now that I think about it.¡± I laugh a good laugh to show him my agreement. ¡°Yeah you''re right, listen I got some time to kill before I go train with Tonga, Mortal Kombat?¡± He turns and smiles, ¡°You can¡¯t use Erron Black,¡± he says boldly knowing I use that character just to make him mad enough that he will storm out. ¡°No Liu Kang,¡± I counter with, knowing that that is the only character he knows how to use and can only spam one move where Liu Kang kicks you all over the place with great speed and dexterity that I have been trying to learn how to translate into real life. He frowns at me, ¡°This is why no one wants to play video games with you, you¡¯re a cocky douchebag.¡± He stands up and walks downstairs, I follow him down as he rants about how he doesn¡¯t spam Liu Kang and has a very clear strategy behind the way he uses the character. I sit on the couch downstairs and wait for him to put the game into the PSX. He turns on the tv and blue light fills the room hurting my eyes and causing me to have a major headache for unexplainable reasons. We sit and I massacre him for a couple of hours until I finally have to go. I step out into the cold fresh night moving past the assortment of buildings done in different styles to represent the different cultures of the people who have joined from across the world. I live in the Latin American section where there are a couple of palm trees and houses that look like they came straight out of a telenovela. I pass through the Asian district and enter into the dojo modeled after the training houses for the Samurai in Japan. A Dark skin colored man with a bald head and a stocky build stands in the middle of the dojo wearing his Garroter Armor and wielding a naginata. He spins it with grace completely focusing on the area around him, moving the weapon as an extension of his own being through the air slicing with such precision that they sharp edge of the blade is able to cut the air currents giving that nice satisfying ¡°SHHHHINK.¡± I stand before the entrance wearing for the first time my new gear strutting with the same pride as a rooster. ¡°May I enter the Dojo Tonga?¡± I say as I bow before the entrance. He sheaths his naginata and looks at me with his one brown one hazel eye. ¡°It¡¯s about time Ordinance,¡± he says looking halfway annoyed and excited at the chance to beat me like he does everyday, ¡°you¡¯re going to be late in my dojo after becoming a Garroter this morning?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Master Tonga I promise it won¡¯t happen again.¡± Tonga is a great man and an even greater warrior, he wants the best out of everybody so he is very intense but it helps us train to the best of our ability. ¡°Enter,¡± he states letting me enter into the dojo. He sits on the ground and closes his eyes. I can tell from his breathing pattern that he is meditating and trying to prepare his body for the first attack. This is a tradition between the two of us, an ancient form of samurai training that relaxes the body making it seem as if the person meditating is unaware or unprepared for an attack when it is actually the opposite. I stroll around the matt looking at the racks full of weapons, I come up to one with two war axes place in an X in their rack. I silently take them down along with a couple of throwing knives and place them in my belt. I am not really a weapons guy I usually prefer hand to hand combat but when I do use weapons I pretty much stick to knives and axes, those are the only things I really train with. I unsheath one of my knives and throw it with precision aimed right at Tonga¡¯s head. Based on the about of force and angle I¡¯m guessing the knife is traveling around 85 mph, but this doesn¡¯t seem to be a problem for Tonga as I am only 10 feet away and he catches the knife in his hand without even opening his eyes. He jumps up throwing the knife back in my direction. I dodge it as it skims past my ear and go into to strike my opponent. I come down with my hurt arm aiming for his chest thinking that the impact will cause a significant amount of pain as I put stress upon my hurt forearm, but as he grabs my fist and twist my arm I don¡¯t feel that much pain. I must have shown my surprise on my face because Tonga looks at me and says ¡°Your armor has stimulants in it to help bone growth and helps you keep fighting. It won¡¯t heal major wounds like fatal stabs or blows to the head but it will repair your bones fast enough to make a difference in the fight.¡± He doesn¡¯t hesitate after he is done speaking to send a punch straight to my nose causing an instant rush of blood along with a break to the bone. I stutter back a bit and wipe the blood away as Tonga puts his mask over his face, the glowing yellow eyes with the stripes going diagonally to make an X across his face. I do the same and notice that the mask has many different gadgets and modes like night vision and infrared. I get to sidetracked by the gadgets and don¡¯t notice the butt end of Tonga¡¯s naginata jamming into my rib cage and then he does a spiral kick flying through the air coming to take me out. I grab his foot before it connects with my face and slam him onto the ground causing a shock through his back. I land a flurry of punches to his abs, by this time a crowd has gathered to watch the encounter, but Tonga doesn¡¯t miss a step in this deadly dance. He quickly scissor kicks my legs apart taking apart my defensive stance then kicks off my chest allowing him room to get off the ground. I collect myself and unsheath my war axes assessing what my opponent¡¯s next move is going to be. He runs throwing a shuriken aiming right for my head that I quickly dodge hitting it away with one of my axes as he runs towards me with the blade aimed towards my chest. He tries to force the blade into my lower abdomen but I counter hooking the shaft of the weapon in my axe and sliding up allowing my elbow to connect with his face. Even through the fiberglass mask, I can tell he felt that as his head shifts back a bit and his legs get wobbly. He regains himself quicker than I can react and pushes his weight against me forcing me to the ground. He steps back a bit and I get back up. We exchange a few parrys as our blades cross satisfying the crowd with the elegance of our weapons. As the match continues, I feel my body feeling wobbly with exhaustion and Tonga makes his move. He goes for a Jab with the naginata right into my pelvis which I quickly block, but he wanted me to do this. He sidesteps in letting the naginata be thrown from his body and lands 6 punches right to my unprepared stomach before palm striking my face forcing my mask off my face. I fall to the ground feeling the hot coals of pain across my body, he gets on top of me and asks ¡®Do you concede?¡¯ I reply swiftly ¡°never, finish it,¡± with one stroke he strikes my nose again causing enough pain to render me unconscious. I wake up a few hours later with Tonga sitting over me eating an apple. The juice from each cut of the apple slices causes a single drip to fall upon my forehead, mixing with my headache giving me the sensation of water torture. I get up slowly, not having had time to suppress my pain so the waves feel immensely more powerful. ¡°You can stay sleeping on the mat if you want, you have to wake up in six hours for your meeting anyway,¡± Tonga says in a calm tone. ¡°It¡¯s 1:00?¡± I ask slowly getting to my feet and stretching to subside the pain. ¡°Indeed,¡± he replied, ¡°you told me to finish it, so I did. Your form was better than usual. You were able to guess most of my attacks and counter in your own way but you exerted too much, letting yourself get tired. You showed it enough that I knew I could use a big attack and you wouldn¡¯t be prepared. You have to breath, steady your breath.¡± He breathes slowly for a few minutes and I follow feeling the flow of oxygen put me at ease. ¡°Steadying your breath will help you focus and hide your exhaustion.¡± We bow to each other and I make the trip back to the Latin District in the courtyard. Each step feels like agony with the pressure on my ribs and face. Tonga definitely didn¡¯t pull any punches tonight. I walk across the courtyard with the spewing fountain and tiny houses that look like they hold hispanic drug lords before I stop a few 100 meters from my room seeing a figure run through the shadows of the district. I ready my mind analyzing every possible way the figure could attack me and I could defend. The figure stops for a minute and slowly steps into the light, it''s a woman wearing Garroter armor. Her long auburn hair set gracefully around her shoulders glistens in the moonlight. Her face is round and symmetrical with a few freckles across her nose barely visible off of her mocha skin. Her body type toned to a specific point showing that she has been training to be a warrior for a while. I freeze surprised to see her here and in Garroter armor. I think I had seen her around Eyre before but had never had a conversation with her. She turns noticing me for the first time, her eyes like emeralds shining brightly in the early dawn inviting you in and piercing through my soul. She gives me a slight smile then walks into one of the houses around the cul de sac structure where my house also resides. I finally thaw out and walk into my house and immediately hear the sound of Davis snoring upstairs. I steadily climb the stairs letting each step bring me closer to the drowsiness overtakes me and I crumble onto my bed where dreams take me away in almost an instant. Dreams of piercing Green eyes. I awake to Davis singing Adele at the top of his lungs while cooking pancakes in the kitchen. Dim night comes through the window and for a few seconds I still see the green eyes haunting my dreams before they disappear into the night. I get dressed and come downstairs to Davis telling me of new techniques he researched to dominate me in Mortal Kombat. I shove a few pancakes in my mouth to build up my stamina and give me some nutrients before the meeting. 5:30, I slept about 4 hours last night, more than usual. Davis wishes me luck as I step out the door. The morning air forces a yawn out of me as it feels somehow both cold and humid. I guess that¡¯s kinda the curse of being in Latin America. I head over to the main headquarters, a three story building in the northwest side of the 3 mile fortress, easily the most heavily fortified part of the the fortress. The building itself has a Greek architecture with giant white columns of marble and the triangular roof with the large bronze door leading within. As I walk into the building, the marble is everywhere and people are scurrying all about getting from one place to the next as if fate depends on it. In the center of the room, a 20 foot sculpture of Chandler Eyre, the founder, holding his signature Katana in front of his face. The blade is sharp enough to cut his gaze, piercing through the room through his empty marble eyes. Although his blade is made of marble it still feels sharp like a regular steel sword, this statue stays not only to remember our founder but also to show his prowess and power, even in death. I cringe a bit before head over to the left side of the room and head up the marble staircase to the balcony that forms a large rectangle looking down on the room. I walk three doors down then come to a wooden door with the words COMMANDER KING inscribed in a plaque on the door. I open the door into a small room with a woman sitting at a desk next to a door with glass that is obscured enough that only ripples of a silhouette can be seen inside. I sit down in a chair in front of the woman''s desk, she gives me a quick look then goes back to typing on her computer not giving me a second look. I close my eyes calming my nerves for the encounter ahead for what feels like 30 seconds when I am interrupted by the woman. ¡°Your father will see you now, Chanel,¡± she says looking at me with a fake smile. ¡°It¡¯s Ordinance now Ms. Alvarez,¡± I say as I stand up and walk to the door. I steady my breath as I put my hand on the knob of the door and slowly twist it hearing the click and slide of the lock. I enter the room, realizing I am entering the first moment of my new life. Chapter 2 The door opens and I find my father sitting at his large glass desk typing quickly on his keyboard like he is punishing it for working to slow. He barely notices me enter the room as his reading glasses are focused on the blue screen illuminating his face. His white ponytail comes down the back of his head giving him the look of an old wise master. I look around the office, which contains mostly large wooden shelves filled with everything from books to weapons of every kind from Katanas and spears, to 22 gauges, and desert eagles. Along the right wall, is three giant plexiglass windows looking down upon a factory producing all kinds of weapons and armor along with medicines and devices that defy logic and science. My father finally takes off his glasses stands up from his big brown leather lawyer chair, the BBLL, as I call it, and smiles at me. ¡°Please sit down, son,¡± he says gesturing to one of the seats in front of his desk, ¡°You want a scotch?¡± He walks over and opens a glass bottle filled with brown liquid from a small wooden table filled with bottles of liquor with different shades of brown. ¡°I¡¯m nineteen, Dad,¡± I say questionably. ¡°The drinking age in this fine country is eighteen,¡± he replied back smiling and taking a sip. ¡°Anyhow, I am getting off topic, we have much to discuss. Your partner should be here soon so we can talk about mission logistics then,¡± he sits down adjacent to me and gives me a deep look. Despite being a leader in our clan, he and I have always been close as father and son. He has always made sure I am safe and took me on many trips showing me exotic places and training me to be the best I can be. As fathers go he is a pretty great one, he is just strict and wants what is best for me along with the people of the clan which I respect. I know that if it came down to me or the clan he would chose the clan which I admire greatly for his devotion to the people. ¡°Is everything alright?¡± He looks at me with the same concerned eyes he gave me when I went into my first rank match. ¡°I¡¯m terrified to be honest,¡± I say allowing my nerves to flow freely, ¡°I am excited for the opportunity but there is so much at stake with this first mission especially with a new partner. I want to prove I am worthy of being one of the true warriors of the Wuxing but how do I know my partner isn''t going to screw up everything.¡± ¡°How do I know you won''t be the one screw things up, golden child?¡± A voice comes from behind me and I turn to see piercing emeralds staring at me. It''s the girl from the night before. What is she doing here? Could she be meeting with my father? As my mind races considering reasons why she is here. My father speaks first. ¡°Aw Frost great to see you here,¡± he stands up and walks over giving her a firm handshake and gesturing for me to greet her, ¡°Son, this is Rebecca Nutter, she is Frost, your new partner and a new Garroter. Frost this is my son, Chanel King...¡± ¡°Ordinance,¡± she interrupts, ¡°I know about the golden child, only a year younger than I and he gets the praise of being the youngest Garroter on the same day I receive the honor as well.¡± She sideways smiles at me then sticks out her hand. I shake it feeling her smooth skin with the tough calluses around her knuckles, she trains with daggers as I can tell from the calluses. ¡°See friends already, you will work great together,¡± my father says quickly patting us on the back, ¡°besides Frost is the first remnant to enter the Garroters, so you''re both golden children per say.¡± I feel my throats close up and my adrenaline pump quickly. ¡°I''m sorry you''re a remnant?¡± I exclaim trying to hide my apparent hesitation. ¡°You didn''t think we were all crazy did you?¡± She smiles slyly and I start to feel my hand get colder and colder until I can feel the frostbite penetrating my skin. I pull my hand away quickly and watch as the frost slowly goes away and my hand returns to normal. ¡°Yeah, she can control air pressure and create ice out of thin air. It''s quite impressive if I do say so myself.¡± My father said as he went to sit back down in his chair and sift through some documents on his computer. ¡°I can see that,¡± I glare at her before turning and sitting down in the chair I was in before. Frost comes and sits down next to me smiling widely like she has won a gold star. ¡°Now let''s get down to business shall we,¡± he turns his laptop towards the both of us showing us a city in Mozambique. ¡°This is Maputo, the capital city of Mozambique. The ruler Filipe Nyusi has been ruling the country since 2015. He''s mostly an okay ruler but he''s made some mistakes, and some enemies. He is one of our allies and we won''t allow attacks on him to be permitted. Our intelligence was confirmed that a group of rebels are planning to kill the president in two days time at his address to the public. The two of you are going to attend the president''s address and take out any member of the rebels who tries to make a move at the speech. Understood?¡± Frost and I nod our heads realizing this isn¡¯t a distraction mission like some I have gone on before, this is real. ¡°Good, you leave in five hours for Mozambique. I need y¡¯all to get your gear and head over there as soon as you are packed with the essentials, your armor, and weapons. Additional items will be waiting on the plane to help the mission go smoothly. Extraction will be at this point,¡± he says zooming in on a small marker in the middle of the jungle, ¡°I have loaded the info into your new wristlets. You must disband the rebels no matter how many there are and get to the extraction point in 48 hours. Casualties are not an issue, do whatever is necessary and kill anyone who gets in your way. No mercy.¡± He says sternly through the cadence of his voice. The wristlet on my arm buzzes and a small hologram comes up showing a map of the area we are going to and how to reach the extraction point, it looks like a see through google map. My father stands up and so do we ready to go. ¡°Frost will you wait outside for a second, I need to talk to my son and then y¡¯all are dismissed.¡± She nods and gives me one more look before thanking my father and leaves the room. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I ask. I see my father walk over to a small chest well lit in a case behind his desk. He opens the chest and pulls out a long machine that looks like it fits around the forearm. He walks over holding it in his hands with the grace of a baby bird. He presents it before me with pride. ¡°This is a device I created when I first became a true Garroter, every member gets to chose their keystone weapon. This one was mine. I hope you would like it to be yours.¡± He twist the device and it separates into two smaller pieces that he proceeds to latch to his arms. He presses a tiny black button on each side illuminating a tiny glass vial on each arm filled with a gold liquid. He holds out his hands and the liquid empties and two chinese officer swords appear made out of the liquid. I step back a little trying not to show my astonishment but I had never seen anything like it before, the swords were as detailed as a professional sword that would take years to make and yet they were made in mere seconds from this miracle liquid. He turns to a tiny wooden sculpture of a dragon next to his extensive self of alcohol and strikes with enough force to cut it in half. The swords then shrank down back into a liquid form and the vials are filled again. ¡°These vials are filled with citadel, the same metal lining your armor. It has special traits that when controlled allow the person to manipulate it in any way you want. The armbands have an interconnective system inside them that sends artificial neuron charges to the frontal cortex, you simply need to think of a weapon and the fluid is reactive enough to create it. With these you can create swords, daggers, throwing knives, any form of melee weapon and no matter where you throw it, it will always return to the vials in your arms.¡± He takes off the device and hands me each side. ¡°Here,¡± he says handing them to me, ¡°try it out.¡± I take them and latch them to my forearms, as soon as I press the buttons to turn them on I feel a rush of energy connecting to my frontal cortex. I simply think axe and a war axe is formed from the liquid into my hand almost exactly like the one I used yesterday just completely golden. I swing it around a bit to get a feel for the weight and balance then form a knife in my other hand. I send it flying, nailing it to the giant map of Eyre and the valley. With so much as a simple return thought the weapons decrease in size and liquidate filling the vials again. ¡°Thank you, Father,¡± I smile appreciative of the gift and fairly impressed with the applications of this device. From the outside looking in it may have seemed I wasn¡¯t happy about receiving the gift, but my father knows me well and understands that I don¡¯t always show my emotions out loud and I really do appreciate it. He pats my back and looks at me contemplating what to say next. ¡°I am very proud of you, Chanel. You have grown up so much and I can see you doing amazing things and maybe even being the leader of this whole fortress one day,¡± he puts his arm around me and I can feel the fear in his voice and in his eyes, ¡°Just please be careful. I know you are a warrior and can take care of yourself, but I...¡± his voice gets caught in his throat, ¡°thought I would never have a son until I had you. Keep yourself safe.¡± We hug for a while taking in the moment before he goes back to working at his desk I walk out the door and down the steps of marble mentally preparing what I need to pack for the trip. A soon as I step outside, I see Frost leaning her back against a column, she has her eyes closed breathing in the fresh air and letting her mocha skin glisten making all the guys in Eyre stumble when they see her. I start to walk down the steps past her when she opens her emerald eyes and stares at me. ¡°Hey Chanel,¡± she yells getting my attention. I stop in my tracks surprised to hear her use my real name instead of the name I was given. I turn towards her as she walks up nonchalantly with her hands in her pockets. ¡°What can I do for you, Frost,¡± I try and hide the fact that I am bothered by her using my name. ¡°Please Chanel, call me Becca,¡± she says, ¡°You and I are partners and are going to have to spend a lot of time together on missions and in training so there is no point in being formal with each other. Besides Frost and Ordinance, I mean there cool names but completely weird to just say normally like ¡®Hey Ordinance wanna go bowling later¡¯?¡± She made a sarcastic face but saw that I didn¡¯t find it funny so changed her attitude almost immediately. ¡°Our names are an honor I hold dearly. I have been wanting to receive one since my father told me the stories of earning the name Tundra. I don¡¯t see it as ¡®informal¡¯, I see it as respectful,¡± I exclaim trying to show her my seriousness and maturity in in the ways of the clan. She looks at me sternly her Emerald eyes trying hard to pierce through my defense. ¡°Look I don¡¯t know what your deal is but I just wanted to clear the air. I feel this tension between us and it may have been my fault but I don¡¯t want it to be that way. I have seen you fight and I respect the way you move and your devotion but I want to get to know you. I want to care about my partner not just feel like I¡¯m stuck with you.¡± At the mention of her saying she wants to care about me it makes my heart jump a bit in a way I don¡¯t really understand. I quickly push the feeling aside and focus on the matter at hand. ¡°Listen Frost, that''s noble and all but we have to stop rebels from overthrowing a country in less than a couple of days, we don¡¯t have time to worry about caring about each other. Do your job well and I¡¯ll do mine.¡± She looks at me sideways a little hurt by what I have just said. I don¡¯t have time to deal with this so I turn walking back towards my room showing I¡¯m done with the conversation when she yells at me a little louder than I would have liked. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Is it because I¡¯m a remnant you don¡¯t like me!¡± She exclaims with a tone of anger but almost desperation. I turn around giving her a look then proceed walking onward towards my room. Who does she think she is? Calling me by my name and saying it is out of respect? Yelling at me in front of everybody saying I hate remnants? I contemplate her mental ailments as I walk into my house. The house is completely empty with a note on the counter from Davis: Dear Ordinance/ Chanel, I wish you well on your first mission and hope you and your partner get along well. When you return just know that victory will be mine as I will be training my mind for the battle ahead in the virtual domain. Take lots of pictures and please try to not get hurt along the way. I am really proud of you bro and I know you are going to kill all those commies or whatever you are facing. I heard your partner is a remnant. Is that true? If so, when you get back I need full details on her powers, compatibility with her, and if you saw her suffer any hallucinations while on the journey. Also I will be expecting to hear how hot she is, because based on my knowledge I¡¯ve heard she is a real looker. Anyway I¡¯ll see you when you get back. Your friend, Davis/ Battleborn I laugh a little before going upstairs and grabbing a bag to put my stuff in. I look around my room trying hard to focus on packing but I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about my encounter with Fros...I mean Becca. Usually, I can be a jerk to someone and I don¡¯t even think twice about it but for some reason she is different. Why do I care that I snapped at her? Why should I care what she thinks? I look down and my wristlet and the time illuminates across the silverband, 8:00 am. I have about three hours before I need to get to the jet and take off. Seeing the little amount packing I have to do and given the time I have left I realize I have just enough time for one of my very important duties. I look around the room and gather a few items like my armor and phone, along with a few power bars just in case I get hungry along the ride. I quickly throw the items into my bag with more difficult than expected. I grab my grey zip up running jacket and throw it on along with the Citadel arm bands Father gave me. I walk over to a loose floorboard and look around instinctively even though I know for a fact no one is around and Davis wouldn¡¯t care if he saw me anyway. The floorboard comes up and a pair of sneakers with wires coming from the heel to a small remote with a bright red button on it lays carefully with the shoes. I take a small bag and gently place the sneakers in the bag. A smile creeps across my face as I remember the last time I did this and get excited at the thought. I head over to the window on the other side of the room, I open it and let the wind hit my face refreshing me in a way from the stress I endured this morning, I lay my back against the window sill and push my head through the window seeing the blue morning sky above me before skillfully bouncing up and climbing to the top of my tiny house. I look out in front me squinting my eyes thinking that will make me able to see the invisible barrier that surrounds all of Eyre. When I finally get a glance at the edge faintly glimmering I take the sneakers and again look around making sure none of my clansmen are looking at me chill on the roof. When the coast seems clear I tie up the sneakers and carefully place them on my feet being sure not to mess with any of the wiring. Davis has always been the type of guy to tinker with things and try and make weird looking devices. So last year when they replaced the old barrier with this new invisible one Davis realized we wouldn¡¯t be able to sneak out to the village anymore so he made each of us these special sneakers. They aren¡¯t a work of art or anything but they do allow us to get aloft long enough to get over the wall so it is a form of art in its own way. In the morning air, there are few people walking around Eyre as they are getting as much sleep as they can since today is off day. I have done this only a couple of times to prepare myself for the frightening exhilaration of the jets as they take me to the sky while rattling like they might explode at any moment. I plant my feet firmly getting into a squatting position then press the bright red button. Nothing. I look around and down at the sneakers wondering why the launch was postponed. I sit down on the roof getting ready to examine the boots when I hear a sputter come from underneath my feet and a flame. ¡°CRAP,¡± I yell accidently as I jump to my feet just as the sneakers send me into the air over the barrier but cause me to flip in the air to where it looks like my landing may be on my head. A branch is upside down a couple of feet ahead of me so I quickly shift my feet trying to stop my momentum and catch myself on the branch. My feet catch the branch but snap it instantly causing the sneakers to lose thrust and I start to fall roughly 30 feet. I see a tree as I¡¯m falling basically in slow motion and just on instinct think of a way to get to it. Suddenly a golden rope dart is thrust from my hands into the tree and I find myself swinging right into a tree. The impact comes swift and hard leaving me with a black eye but that is the most of the damage. I look down seeing I only have about 13 feet between me and the ground. I laugh with relief amazed at the innovation of the rope dart made of citadel. I silently thank my father for giving me these today not knowing that they would end up saving my life. I think knives and two knives form from the rope dart and I climb down the tree jamming the knives into the trunk until I finally reach the bottom. I check my wristlet once I reach the bottom and see that it is 8:10, that entire life threatening encounter took only 10 minutes. I even out my breathe laying my back against the trunk and wrap my head around what has just happened. After a couple of minutes, I return the knives to my arm bands, take off the sneakers, and put on my Nikes as I head down the steep incline to the village below. As is usual, the village is buzzing with activity as people scurry around, heading from one shop to the next speaking Spanish, more like yelling, and carrying large objects or slabs of meat. Motorcycles weave in and out of the people honking each chance they get just because they like the way it sounds. I walk across the main streets of the village heading to the town square. A large building with the flag of the clan hangs from the main building in the square. Behind the grayish brown building is a small set of metal rusted doors leading down into a cellar, guarded by two intimidating men. They give me a look trying to remain tough but look terrified recognizing me. I can see it through the dilation of the pupils and the drips of sweat streaming down their forehead. They open the doors letting me in, the morning light pierces through the dark cellar showing a set of old stairs leading down to ¡°the depths of hell¡± as the natives say. They close the doors behind me and leave me in the darkness, it gives me time as I walk down the hallway getting ready to be the person the people through the door ahead expect me to be. I emerge through the door into a terribly lit, rather large room filled with people screaming and throwing pesos through the air at a large area made for luchador matches with large cage around it. Two large men sweat and bleed onto the matt assessing their opponent and trying to land the strongest punch like any unskilled fighter would do. I walk up to the bar up at the back wall and pull off my hood to look at the large blackboard with the names of who is fighting today. A man with the name of ¡°Destructor¡± has four skulls next to his name meaning he is extremely deadly in the ring. ¡°Perfect!¡± I say. The bartender looks at me with a befuddled look and says under his breath ¡°Ares.¡± I look at the man and say ¡°Ponga mi nombre al lado de los Destructor.¡± The bartender quickly takes a piece of chalk and writes ¡°Ares¡± next to destructor. I thank him, laying a few pesos on the bar, and turn to see that the people have spread out making a lane for me to walk to the ring. The two men from the last match are pulled off the mat leaving bloodstains, I guess it was a tie. I take off my hood and shirt. I throw them to the side and enter the cage. A man in a bedazzled cowboy hat and sparkly clothes enters the area with a mic and starts yelling at the crowd in Spanish. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen of the great city of Comendador, we have a very special treat for you tonight. The legendary Ares, god of the ring, has come to take his title of back from the man who has claimed it in his absence. Can he do it? Is Ares no longer the god of this ring? We shall see. I give you Destructor!¡± A large muscular man enters the room and a spotlight catches him as he walks towards the ring. He looks like an hispanic bulldog where the wrinkles are just muscle. Any usual competitor would be terrified to fight this guy, but I am not a normal competitor. A few men pull up a rack of weapons to the bulldog and he grabs a fancy looking sword with one edge serrated, the kind of weapon chosen by an amateur who thinks a scary big weapon will help him in combat. I laugh and think Axes and two golden war axes come from my arm bands and appear in my hands. The room erupts in astonishment and wonder at the axes. The bulldog enters the cage and stands directly in front of me drooling on my nose. I push him back and he sneers at me with a look of death in his eye. He steps back allowing me to analyze him and find his weakness. He is muscular but not very free moving. He seems to be about 30 years old. Taking a hit from him will hurt a lot and stun me enough for him to get into my defense so I need to tire him out and strike. I need to be careful as well because a simple strike won¡¯t do much so I need to hit hard enough to do damage and force him to take the offensive trying to strike me down with his blade. I can attack when his defense is down. I wink at him from across the ring knowing that my plan will help me win this match today. He grunts angrily and starts towards me with his blade raised high to come down for a strong strike on my head. That was easy enough to get him on the defensive. I run quickly towards his exposed body and get a good slice across his rib cage and the back of his leg as I do a spiral swing spinning after the first strike to avoid his strike and attack the calf. He yells in pain but quickly recovers as blood spills onto the mat, he is tough I¡¯ll give him that. He turns swinging the sword in a circle trying to catch me off guard and take me out in one blow. I roll easily under his blade and kick out one of his legs taking him to the ground, I use the moment to straddle him and gain the advantage. I swing down an axe going for the kill but he swings his arm nailing me in the face forcing me off of him and causing the axes to go back into my arms. He scrambles quickly to his sword, but I am quicker. I sprint over just as he is about to get the blade and kick him in the face causing him to be dazed for a minute. I turn his body over to where he is laying on his back and start sending punches to his cranium. I feel his nose break and his body starts to crumble when he puts a hand onto my shoulder, this is what I was waiting for. I slip my hand to his shoulder and the other to his wrist and let my weight carry me to the ground. Bring my feet across his head forcing him into a locked armbar. He scrambles around trying to get free but it is too late. With one thrust, I hear his elbow snap and his arm goes limp under my pressure. The bulldog screams and I release my grip. The crowd wails in a craze of madness wishing for blood to be spilled and screaming my name ¡°ARES, ARES,ARES!¡± I turn towards the crowd taking the glory when I feel a sharp pain across my back, the crowd screams in horror as the bulldog has taken back his blade and has slashed me with the serrated edge causing a widespread wave of heat burning the skin off my back. I fall a bit and hear the sound of his blade coming to connect with my head. The pain doesn¡¯t stop me, I turn quickly dodging the attack and kick the blade out of his hand. I slam him again using my akimbo and boxing training to nail him all over his body causing ripples of pain to spread across my opponent. I summon a golden knife to my hand and and thrust it through his chin. His eyes go blank and dark. He crumbles to the ground and the match is over. The people cheer and their cries plus the adrenaline take the pain away that I feel in my back. I didn¡¯t want the match to end in this man''s death, but it was always a possibility. I have been trained my entire life to show no mercy and take out any opponent that stands in my way no matter what. To be honest, I don¡¯t feel anything for the man. The people who fight in this ring are the worst of the worst who are looking to gain respect so they can gain followers and exploit the village of their hard earned money. I am doing them a favor. I enter three more fights, winning each with a knockout as each competitor is scared to suffer the same fate as the first guy who fought me. As I am gathering my things to leave, a hooded figure pushes past me and steps into the cage. The room erupts in cheers as the figure steps into the cage. The figure calls the announcer into the ring and whispers something in his ear. He looks at her crazily then grabs the mic. ¡°Ares!¡± he yells into the mic, silencing the room. ¡°You have been challenged by Athena.¡± Everyone in the room looks at me with wide eyes, some excited to see a fight between Ares and this new competitor, some terrified thinking this could be the deadly match yet. The pride inside me swells and I don¡¯t let some guy call me out like this. I head towards the cage and step inside. The announcer announces details of the match but my eyes are locked on the hooded figure. I stare at the figure deeply trying to figure out who it could be. The announcer tells the figure ¡° Athena, take off the hoodie and get ready to fight.¡± She unzips her hoodie to reveal simple spandex and a icy blue sports bra against mocha skin. I look up at her face and see the small freckles, the symmetrical face, and the piercing Emerald eyes of Frost staring at me with a slight grin.