63.
Sixteen Souls
Grayson Lee, Roufas Ernst, and Xarles Klavier Van Kaen stood within the
tournament complex, just outside of the doors to the observation tower. New belts
decorated Van Kaen’s waist, and his skin remained as scarred and purple as ever,
despite the fact that he'd just undergone some new maintenance. He’d just
finished vaporizing a pile of the tournament’s elite guards, ensuring that no
one would notice their smooth infiltration.
Grayson turned to address his associates. "Ready to meet the committee,
gentlemen?"
"Wait, Grayson." Roufas held his hand up. "What exactly
are you planning to do in there?"
"I'm sure you already know the answer to that question," Grayson
replied flatly.
Roufas let out a tired sigh. "Bruce was much too clumsy. He caused
far more commotion than was needed, which is why we had to waste time suppressing
all the guards and dismantling the alarm system out here. We need to watch how
we handle things from here on out, Grayson. What if we caused too much commotion
and forced them to stop the tournament? At this point, another small error
could throw our whole operation off-kilter."
Grayson smirked. "Save your breath, dear Roufas. I am well aware
of your concerns."
"Hold on, Grayson!" Roufas shouted, then reached out
and firmly gripped his ally's shoulder. Van Kaen flinched as he felt the
violinist's powerful aura rise. "If you’re planning to do something we
haven’t worked into the plan, I need to know."
"Well, that depends," Grayson said. "How does the Daughter
fit into our plans?"
"You’re still upset over that?" Roufas asked. "She isn’t
a target you can just kill and get rid of. We need her alive – that’s the problem."
"Is it?" Grayson turned around to stare at his ally. "Is
that really all you thought about when you saw her in the flesh? You didn’t think
about something else...someone else?"
"Grayson, what's going on?" Roufas asked. "This isn't like
you."
"I should ask you the same thing. How long has it been since your
hands tasted blood?" Grayson retorted. "But so be it. Let us continue
with your genius plan."
Roufas stared at Grayson for a long moment, and then finally let go of his
arm. "Go, then. Van Kaen, follow us."
"By all means," Grayson opened the door with a twisted grin. "After
you, sir."
Roufas slowly walked through, followed by Van Kaen, and then Grayson,
who eyed his mentor with a smirk of contempt. Inside, they found a small elevator
that quietly carried them up to the committee room. Within, the five executives
were huddled at the least damaged part of the room, furiously tapping at their
handheld devices. Their expensive clothes were singed and wet, just like the
rest of the room.
"Curses!" The fattest committee member tossed his device across
the room. "The darn thing's useless!"
"Mine doesn't work either! It’s those stupid psynergy barriers
they put up!" A well-to-do woman with a ring on every finger shouted.
"What should we do?!"
"Maybe we should try to escape," another suggested.
"It's not like the doors are locked, right?"
"You fool!" the fat man shouted in a hoarse voice. "Are
you out of your mind? They probably have the whole place under control now!
Besides, they won't kill us. We still have our trump card."
"You're right," a woman with thistle-shaped hair agreed.
"They won't kill us if they don’t know where the clock is."
"Wait a second, everyone," another man said as he finally
noticed the trio who had quietly stepped into the room. "Who are they?"
"My name is Grayson Lee." Grayson stepped out of the elevator
and smiled warmly at the five. "I am a member of the Dark Zodiacs."
"You!" the fat man shouted, throwing a decrepit pale arm out
toward the Snake. "You're all going to pay for this, you, you...terrorists!"
"Do I instill terror in you?" Grayson's smile took a sadistic
turn as he cocked his head to the side and studied the old man. "Do I make
you feel insecure? Like a defenseless little puppy?"
"N...no..." the fat man answered, attempting to stand his
ground. "The hell you do! Why, in my time, I've seen people ten times as
terrifying as you! You're nothing! You think you may have it all figured out, but
you’re gonna be sorry! Trust me! You..."
"Grayson." Roufas calmly interrupted the man's tirade. "Don’t
get ahead of yourself. We still need them alive in case something goes wrong with
the clock."
Grayson cackled. "Oh, don't worry. I'm simply going to show them a
good time."
*
"Devour her, Trask! She'll be Course #163!"
The woman in the lab coat stood at the foot of the steps to one of the
arena’s eight waiting rooms, shouting orders at blob. In the center of the room
stood Vance, now crouched over the fallen body of the dart wielder. He shifted
his eyes just in time to see Eden dodge another gooey tentacle that spurted out
from the blob.
"It's no use, Vance!" she called to him, as the mutant
absorbed another of her blasts. "It keeps eating my psynergy!"
"What?!" Vance shouted. "Are you sure?"
Seeing their disbelief, the woman at the entrance to the room cackled.
"My Trask has natural psynergy-based enzymes...it can absorb even the strongest
psynergy waves as if they were protein shakes. Just give it up!"
"Oh. Okay. If you say so," Vance said with a shrug, then calmly
walked toward her.
"What are you doing?!" she cried. "Trask! Get over here!"
Vance quickly gathered psynergy into his leg and swung outward. The
woman put up a strong defense, but her aura was nothing against Vance's might,
and he punted her away.
"Vance!" Eden called. "Behind you!"
Vance leapt away as Trask zoomed toward him and prepared another strike.
"I'm going to try and punch it!"
His fist made contact with Trask's pudgy exterior, but it slid comfortably
in between two rolls of the disgusting brown goo, as if his hand itself was being
absorbed. He tried to pull it out to the best of his ability, but it was too late
– he was stuck.
"Oh no," Vance grunted, as he tried to yank his arm free.
"This is bad."
Eden stayed above the stairs, trying to put as much distance between
her and the blob as possible. "Maybe we overestimated our abilities, Vance.
Think about it – in the first round, we had Averyl to help us, and in the
second round, Cliff and his friends...but now, we're finally on our own."
"That sounds pretty damn pessimistic for you, Eden!" Vance
cut in. "You can at least have a little faith in me!"
"It's not you, Vance," Eden replied quickly. "I
just..."
"Give me a few more tries!" Vance insisted, as he tried to
grab onto the wall with his free arm. "I'll get us out of this somehow!"
"Vance," Eden gasped. "Get out of the way!"
Vance craned his neck and stared at the opposite corner of the room.
The hooded woman he’d dropped earlier now had five dark-tipped darts. "Begone,"
she murmured quietly, then tossed them straight at Vance.
He tried to dodge, but the Trask’s grip on his arm was too tight. Vance
let out a pained scream as the darts shot straight into his chest. By the time the
dart wielder finished her toss, Eden was behind her. The hooded woman spun around,
but Eden already had two burning orange orbs ready. The two collided, and Vance's
assailant fell, overpowered by Eden's might.
Desperation had taken hold of Eden, and there was no stopping her. Letting
psynergy consume her body, Eden rushed forward, torpedoing into the blob as it
continued to devour Vance’s arm. She could feel the blob sucking at her as she slipped
inside, and fought back with pure citrus psynergy. At first, Eden could feel
her psynergy disappear as soon as it left her body, swallowed up by the
digestive goo. But she kept pouring out more, reaching inside her body and grabbing
more potent power from her deepest recesses.
As Eden’s power grew, the Trask began to gurgle and vibrate. From
within the monster Eden grabbed onto Vance’s arm, cringing as she watched her
psynergy burn his skin like she knew it would. With a powerful thrust, she
knocked him back and free from the monster. Then, she closed her eyes and let
go.
Citrus power seared out from within the Trask, burning it from the inside
until it ceased to exist. Finally, Eden stood still in the center of the floor,
pristine and unharmed, albeit exhausted.
I don’t know how or why...but I can feel it. My power is more than just
psynergy...
On the ground, Vance's body lay still. His eyes were barely open, and
he was panting fast.
"Sorry...Eden..." he gasped, "but I think...I'm gonna
need...to use the Regeneration Tank first..."
"Don't talk!" Eden shouted, as she hurried him across the
room. After sliding him through the curtains into the tank, she took a deep breath
and hurriedly stripped his clothes off, keeping her eyes on his tortured face.
"You’ll be fine," she whispered, and gently hooked up his vitals.
Once Vance was inside the thick fluid, she set up an automatic diagnosis
scan and let the machine get to work. Soon, Vance’s breathing settled down.
Tears streamed down Eden’s face as fatigue set in and her emotions
caught up with her.
Sometimes, Vance, I really do think about telling you my secret...if
only because it’s so hard for me to handle on my own. But it wouldn’t be fair
to burden you with this. It’s got nothing to do with you.
Trunculo's voice resonated around the arena as the door to the waiting
room closed, trapping Vance and Eden inside.
*************
"Weeeeell, that was interesting! Contestants #4001 and #4003 have successfully
secured the southwestern sector! One of them is taking a long, well-needed rest
in the Regeneration Tank, as I'm sure many other fighters are doing at this
very moment!"
The holographic screens above the stadium seating flipped back and
forth between rooms, giving the crowd a glimpse of a red-haired girl all by herself
in an empty room.
"There's that boy again," Edward said, squinting. "But I
can't make out his face."
"So the finals are going to begin soon?" Frank asked, turning
to Dr. Phileas. The doctor had just purchased a small box lunch from a wandering
vendor.
"Mm, yes, I believe so." Phileas said, as he slowly ripped
the skin off a barbecued piece of chicken with his teeth. "Here, we should
see some truly exciting battles. I hope you enjoy them."
*************
"That brings our survivor count to a perfect sixteen!" Trunculo
continued. "At long last, we've weeded out the cream of the crop, and the
moment you've all been waiting for is here!"
With Amyr’s body safely secured within the Regeneration Tank, Sabine moved
to switch it on. But before she did so, she took one last look at his Amyr's chiseled
face and gave him a light kiss.
"If you're smart," she whispered, "you'll sleep right through
this shitstorm."
*************
"We'll give you a half hour break to clean up any messes that still
remain in your respective rooms!" Trunculo boomed. "Hopefully this
will be enough time to heal some of the damage you received in the past rounds,
too! Unfortunately, due to the limits of our program today, you won't be getting
any extra rest time! However, we do have the tournament bracket for the finals created,
so do take a peek!"
"The tournament bracket!" Winslow's eyes sparked as he watched
the holographic screen change. "Where's #4001?"
Averyl came up slowly behind him. "Did you forget which number you
are? You're #2499, you know..."
"I know, I know that!" Winslow snapped. "I'm not looking
for my number, I'm looking for his!"
"His?" Averyl raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, his!" Winslow shrieked. "Vance Darcouver's!"
"Ah." Averyl placed a finger to his lips. "His allies are
#4002 and #4003, if I remember correctly. And if I'm #2500. Let's see
here..."
*************
Trunculo continued to rile up the crowd. "I bet you're all tingling
with anticipation, just waiting for the tournament to begin! Take this opportunity
to make your last bathroom run, folks – because I guarantee you'll be glued to
your seats once we kick this show into high gear!"
Eden hurriedly scanned the holographic screen. Listed at the bottom of
the bracket were eight pairs of ID numbers.
#2500
#0635
#3788
#1674
#4002
#2497
#3109
#4003
#1673
#1672
#2498
#0031
#2499
#1915
#2062
#4001
Eden studied the list. There's another group of four: 2497-2500. They
must be the four Dark Zodiacs who entered. And the group of three, 1672-1674,
must be the other three vice-captains...
Suddenly, she saw movement from the window arena. Eden looked to see a
man dressed in a green-and-purple suit with a sharp black goatee and blond highlights
walking along the stark white tiles of the arena platform. By the enthusiastic
look on his face, she knew he had to be the announcer.
"Laaaaadies and gentlemen!" Trunculo's voice echoed up to the
stands without the aid of any microphones. "I ask you once again...are you
truly prepared for the event of the century?!"
Eden looked back to the Regeneration Tank. Inside, her companion's
wounds were just beginning to seal up.
Vance...I'll protect you.
Next: Your Death is My Life
