What about Loogie? I asked in my head—or whatever passed for that in a bodiless environment—but I spoke to Archive, or whatever could hear me. No answer came.

  The loading screen showed a tundra, with crags of stone and windswept ice. Three separate flags sat equidistant from the center field, flapping above identical sheds. I wasn’t a fan of ice and cold, but I was used to being around it.

  Something rippled in the snowbank outside the ice bars. I watched the thick snowdrift, but didn’t see anything after that initial geyser of ice particles. Weird. Would there be creatures to fight, here?

  Loogie, all alone. That thought overshadowed everything else. I hoped no one tried to hurt it while I was gone. The Vash’Ora didn’t know the world, couldn’t understand what strangers might do.

  No mouth, no breath, no chest to rumble frustration, I thought into the ether around me—Keep Loogie safe, or I really will destroy you, Archive.

  I heard no answer, but suddenly I knew that the Vash’Ora would be alright. Just knew, like a switch flipped in my head. A second of relief flooded through me, followed by fresh doubt. My mind ran through all the terrible things that could happen to a little critter alone in a place like the Labyrinth when the howl of wind whistled in my ears.

  Frag’s push shook me out of it before I even felt the cold. [Environmental Alert: Suboptimal temperatures]

  “Cold!” Akilah wailed, hugging herself instantly.

  “Armor up!” I shouted over the wind as snow trickled in through the bars of ice around us. The timer was ticking down until the ice gate opened, and the Arena event started. We had to get our game on, despite everything.

  I turned to look at them. Everyone except Frag and me threw on extra layers. Jake frowned, shaking his head. “Let’s go, timer! Standing in this icebox sucks.”

  Fig, Elora, and Akilah huddled together around Jake’s natural demonically heated body, trembling, teeth chattering. I frowned. Once upon a time, in my human skin, I’d be joining in.

  I exhaled a sigh, my breath creating a mini fog around me head. The System brief popped up. [Capture the Flag: Capture and hold the flag bunkers. Points are based on duration of time held. The team with the most points wins.]

  “Okay, strategy. Elora, go to whatever flag people aren’t fighting at and score us points. The rest of us have to get on another and hold the shack. Frag, if you can get up top, you might be able to pick off anyone who figured out we’re not all together. Ready?”

  Everyone was too cold to interject their own strategery. Worked for me. Even Akilah only nodded, teeth rattling.

  Bars of ice fell away when the timer hit zero. We burst out. Elora disappeared in a puff of green, the snow bumping up as she burrowed through it. I ran away from her, toward another shed. The white sky swirled with snow. My photosynthesis barely registered, so I was worse off for this fight. So far, the Arena had played my weaknesses against me freakishly well. It couldn’t have been all about me. Although—it felt like it.

  The other team ruined my plan immediately by splitting three and three to the other two sheds. “Split! Frag with me!”

  I pointed at one shed while running for the other. Jake took off for the far flag, wings tucked tight against the buffeting storm. We beat the other team across a small ice pond, barely. I slipped when my foot hit slick ice but didn’t fall, meeting momentum and slide with careful balance. Frag, beside me, never faltered. Maybe it was a passive Tactical Analyist/Sentinel skill, or just a weight thing. He was heavier than me, despite being smaller.

  The two on the other team weren’t so lucky. The one with fishnet stockings went down first. Wait. I knew that witch from our first arena event! She hit the ice and slid into a bank of snow in a move worth millions of social media likes. The minotaur, clomping beside the witch, bent and scooped her up by her belt like a sack of dropped groceries before continuing on, sliding as much as it ran.

  [Tactical Instincts: Hostile Presence] [Battle Instinct triggered]

  Frag jumped, foot catching the open window frame, grabbing the edge of the roof. In a second, he was on top of the single-story structure. I raced to the door and turned, calling Ro’Fatoft to my hands. This was a bad position to have without a shield. Funny, I never even entertained carrying one until that moment. I backed up into the doorway, the frame brushing my head, my shoulders filling most of the space. I had Frag’s rifle as cover. I’d have to absorb everything else. Shit.

  I didn’t like my odds. The two coming at us were the same level as me. Level 11, though my class gave me more HP. I had 125 to work with. The witch and the minotaur both had 90. That meant I could take a couple more hits than them. Considering the situation? Really unfair.

  Our points started going up, and then faster; Elora had reached the third flag. We just had to keep these two tangled up to prevent them from trying for her.

  I couldn’t spare a glance to the others, but I heard voices. Song clashed with dissonance, voices warred. Another bard had come up against Fig. Jake lost a few HP, nothing serious.

  The minotaur stopped and flung a hand at me. I didn’t see a weapon—icy vines rose from the ground, binding my legs, crawling up my torso. [TANGLE 30s] I raised my arms to keep them from getting bound up. The vines crept higher. It felt like snakes slithering up my body, the curling tips questing for things to hook around, sliding up under the buckles of my armor, wrenching them taut.

  A cloud of daggers shot up at Frag. I heard a grunt, then blue fire slammed into the minotaur’s chest. Frag’s HP dropped by 20. The druid rocked, baring his teeth as he began to cast again. The witch—Morgaine—darted to the side, out of my sight. We were still gaining points. They hadn’t gotten into the contested shack of a building yet. The flag above was still ours.

  Five daggers drifted around the corner like sluggish, heat-seeking missiles. Held fast where I was, I shifted my spear towards them. They flickered purple. That was probably bad. Before I could blink, they flew at me. I twisted the haft of my spear, knocking one aside. The other four slammed against me. Two hit armor and clanged away. Two others drove into my unprotected flesh. My lip curled, and I hissed at the dagger that buried itself between the bones in my forearm, just above my bracer. [Hit: -4 Hex] Hexpoints? I had a new bar on my HUD. Six slots, two full. Seemed bad.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  The other lodged itself in my side between my hip and my armor, hitting nothing vital, but was a literal thorn in my side that I couldn’t pull out. I held my spear with my offhand and raised my wounded arm, eyes crossed at the dagger there. I flicked a look at the minotaur, but it had summoned a wall of frosted vines between itself and Frag’s plasma bolts.

  I heard Frag moving above me. The crunch of ice, the creak of wood beneath him. A flash of blue from the corner of my eye, by the unglassed, unprotected window, warned me of the witch’s next move. I grabbed the dagger hilt with my teeth and tore it out. Blood splattered and stuck, congealing into streaks along the open doorframe.

  The shack was useless for keeping snow out. It blew in through the open windows, spilling drifts into corners. Snow collected against my heels. [TANGLE 10s]

  A rain of ice-tipped thorn spikes flew my way as the minotaur’s wall came down. I turned my head away the best I could, holding up the blade of my spear to block my eyes. Half of them hit armor. The rest embedded. Nasty, stinging splinters at 2 DMG each added up when there was a shit-ton of them. I lost 16 more HP by being a living door, TANGLED into place and unable to dodge.

  One stuck in my chin, and I yanked it out with my wounded arm. Splatters of blood pooled and slowly froze around me, trickling down the vines that bound me. Just a few more seconds…

  Something thumped against the window. The witch tumbled head-first into the shed. Our point gain slowed. We’d gotten more than halfway to 1000, though, with Elora’s chipmunk trick. They’d have a hard time catching up.

  “Just give up,” I growled over my shoulder as she untangled her legs. Her gothy outfit was still kinda fire, even though she must have been freezing her tits off. She righted her hair and glared at me.

  “You!”

  “Yeah, me. I don’t want to be responsible for another one of your deaths,” I replied. At that moment, the vines crumbled.

  She flinched, her terrified eyes darting to the doorway, where Frag's plasma bursts had pinned her partner down. Her purplish lips peeled back in a snarl, and her hands went up. Right then, she reminded me of Wanda Maximoff.

  I twisted and lunged, my wounded arm taking the lead, my other driving the force as I thrust. She twirled away, a dark glow rising between her hands. I twisted Ro’Fatoft’s blade sideways, following her dodge as she sidestepped and then moved inwards, into arm’s reach. She pushed her hands out, arms slashing, moving into her blade dance.

  I let my spear drop, my good hand snapping out for her throat. Instinct made her stop and grab my arm. I could taste her terror and the sting of her hands from whatever magic she used. Momentum carried her into the wall. The shack shuddered with the force of my fist around her neck.

  “Quit, before you die forever,” I snarled a bare inch from her face.

  Her dark lips quivered, and she hissed defiantly. “No.”

  “Why?” I didn’t know why I was wasting time on this line of questioning. I should have just crushed her windpipe and let it go.

  Her eyes brimmed with tears from the pain. Or the fear. I couldn’t say.

  “This makes me feel alive,” she choked.

  I stared at her, holding her against the wall like a giant bully, which, arguably, was the kinder thing I could do. Her nails bit into the skin above my bracer as she struggled. [Hit: -1 Hex] [Hit: -1 Hex] [Hit: -1 Hex]

  [Hex Effect: Bad Luck 7 day streak]

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  She smiled.

  I flung her towards the door, but she spun away, laughing as she broke into a new dance. A surge of something dark burned across the white sky outside. My minimap, no longer obscured by fog, showed the other contested flag being—eradicated?

  It was gone. Just. Gone.

  Only Elora’s was left. I watched the other three head for Elora’s position.

  The witch’s hands weaved, and I said, “Hex me again, but you guys are cooked. My team’s the only one gaining points. Check your stats.”

  Her gaze drifted, wicked glee fading from her expression. “Shit.”

  “Mm,” I replied, surging forward to punch her in the chest, right below her collarbone. She flew back like she’d been hit by a car, crashing into the far wall. I crouched to grab Ro’Fatoft and dashed for the door—only to slip on my own fucking blood and land on my ass. [Bad Luck]

  I sat up and scrambled to my feet to look outside. The minotaur had fought with magic, but Frag’s plasma fire had it looking like a burnt rug. Frag’s AoE warning popped. [Weapon Mutation: Triumph Cannon]

  The minotaur flew back, sliding across the field. Before it slid out of range, I saw its HP bar with the tiniest sliver on it. 2 HP.

  Looking out, I saw Jake flying, shooting at another figure in flight. A—rabbit? More like a hare, but with wings. It was small, only slightly bigger than Loogie. The flying hare banked and rolled, a tiny laser flaring from it, poking a hole in one of Jake’s big wings. He jerked and fell, wings booming out to keep him from crashing into a heap in a snowbank. Jake came down running.

  Akilah and Fig were a ways behind, slipping and sliding on ice patches, struggling through snowbanks that went to their thighs.

  “Let’s just allow this to come to its natural conclusion,” I said, turning back to Morgaine, who’d just pulled herself up to her feet again.

  Her hands went up, hesitated, and then fell. She shrugged and, gaze trained on me, came over to the door. When I didn’t attack, she leaned closer to peek out. I held a wary truce, based on inevitability.

  No one else needed to die.

  “What’s that rabbit thing?” I asked. I thought I’d seen everything in Convergent City.

  “Oshegardr,” she said. “You know, the floating rock beside that one orc district?”

  “Salt Spears, yeah. That’s where I live. I’ve never seen them before,” I replied.

  Just then, Frag dropped down off the roof and came around, gun whipping around, aim shifting to the witch, one eye squinted, a gash just beside it. I held up my hand. He still had a dagger lodged in his tactical vest. Didn’t seem to bother him.

  “Wait. We’re being civil. We owned this,” I said. Less than a minute from winning. Other than our full annihilation, there was no way the other team could win.

  To Morgaine, I said, “Tell me more.”

  Frag’s rifle didn’t lower, but his finger slid away from the trigger.

  “They don’t come down from Oshegarde much. They’re too busy guarding against the giant hawk or training here,” the witch said, leaning her shoulder against the doorway, out of Frag’s direct aim.

  “They come here to train for that?”

  She gave me a look. The kind the others often gave me, questioning my intelligence. I mean, I know I didn’t have max scores there, but come on. I think my main problem had always been that I never asked people the right questions.

  “Most of these guys dream of becoming a district lord. Some come to get better at protecting their faction,” she said. “I mean, the System doesn’t allow wars between districts, but things happen, you know?”

  Frag stood down, turning to watch across the field. How did the System prevent fights between districts? Not that I wanted to see it happen.

  “Akilah destroyed the other flag,” Frag said in his usual deadpan way.

  That surprised me. And then it didn’t. It was a smart move. I never imagined she had the power to wipe something out of an arena battleground, even something as small as the shacks, much less an actual System flag.

  “Your team?” the witch asked, glancing at me.

  I nodded. “So, what do you say to dispelling this Hex?”

  She smirked. I guessed that was a no. Our points bar filled. I raised a bloody hand in a one-finger salute as a goodbye...

  And I was alone again. Back in the loading screen. When I re-appeared, I was still in front of a tavern in the Labyrinth. Loogie’s weight settled back on my shoulders. I raised a hand to steady it, surprised. Why would it still be here?

  “Loogie?”

  “Here no safe, Dath!” I craned my neck to try to see Loogie’s face and instead saw a wall of cowhide.

  “Dathai Orc-kin, you’re coming with us,” a low voice said with menace. I looked up at the minotaur and found myself surrounded by them. They wore armor like the guards around the Arena office.

  “Why?” I snapped, looking between them.

  “Cheating. District lord wants a word,” the minotaur said, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. I winced as the minotaur pushed a thorn deeper into my flesh.

  Wounded and alone, I weighed my choices.

  Fight? Ha. Might as well go along. The district lord wanted to see me, after all. Beyond the menace, there was a chance that maybe, of everyone here, the lord would know something about the Unbound status.

  Or they’d kill me. Just another day in Convergent City, I guess.

  Archive a rating.