The date ended with the match’s broadcast. Nil held Selia for a while. He didn’t know what to say and hoped his presence and warmth were enough to provide comfort. She didn’t move or say a word for a long time. The woman stared silently at the screen for what felt like an eternity, tears streaming down her face and occasionally hiccuping. Symbiotech had taken many people dear to her, and even though the company had fallen, another person close to her was now gone.
“I’m going to grab every one of those fuckers by the throat, phase their faces into a wall, and leave them there,” Selia said, wiping her face and nose. She glanced at Nil’s damp shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re right.” Nil ignored the wet patch. He had Selia sit on a kitchen stool facing away from the holo screen and muted it. They continued to play highlights of the quick match in a corner while a blue-skinned woman spoke about Pietro’s previous victories. “Now that I’ve seen it live, it's clear that these bastards are taking on the Death Gauntlet for fun and profit. Pietro probably has earned enough Bronze Ascension Tokens to trade for the Silver Ascension tokens, but it will never be enough. We need to do something about them. The corrupted soul weapons make them too damned powerful.”
Nil always knew there was a chance of dying, and even more so in the Death Gauntlet, but seeing it happen to someone he knew and had grown to like was rough. It was likely that he, Selia, and Shawn would all face the same fate, but they needed to try. If not, the Cursed Energy would be turned into another weapon. More civilians would suffer. It was possible that the next victim wouldn’t just be an acquaintance but someone he deeply cared about.
After getting Selia a box of tissues, he got dinner going. Nil didn’t bother with the mash, carrots, or anything that needed additional preparation. Instead, he cooked what he already had ready. The half-a-kilo slab of Wagyu rib-eye went in a smoking skillet, and while it seared, he threw together a quick salad.
“You don’t have to do that,” Selia said. “I don’t know if I have much of an appetite anymore.”
“Food does wonders,” Nil replied. “It won’t fix what happened, but a belly full of warm food will dull the ache for a while and help us both sleep tonight.”
“But—”
“I used to be a chef before I became a Summoned. This clears my mind and will help push the images out of my head.”
Selia stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, then. You move like you know what you’re doing. Maybe watching you will help me do the same.”
Nil gave the chocolate fondant batter a final whip before carefully spooning it into ramekins lined with butter and cocoa powder. He left them in the fridge before sliding the steak pan into a preheated oven. While fondants set and meat finished cooking, he whipped together a salad. In preparation for consuming the Spirit Pill, Nil had filled his fridge and pantry with an assortment of fruits, vegetables, nuts, oils, and spice pastes. He didn’t like the idea of a no-meat-or-dairy diet, but after growing up in a half-Indian household, he knew that the vegetarian food from his father’s homeland was far more palatable than standard vegan fair.
The assortment of ingredients helped him throw together a salad with a variety of textures. Since A5 wagyu had a beautiful but obnoxious level of marbling, Nil added bitter and sour elements.
Nil rejected help and set the table while the steak rested and poured two extra-full glasses of the red wine he had purchased to accompany the meat. He sliced and served. Then, they ate in silence. Tears occasionally flowed down Selia’s cheeks as she ate, and they took it slow.
“Would you like a piece of bread?” Nil asked, noticing the fat pooling on their plates.
When she nodded, Nil fetched the fresh sourdough rolls he had bought for when he wanted a quick sandwich but didn’t feel like making a trip to the cafeteria. Selia ripped it into pieces and mopped up the plate drippings.
Once they finished eating, Nil popped the chocolate fondants into the oven and cleared the table. Selia took charge of the dishes, but he didn’t stop her. A phrase connecting idle hands to the devil’s playground came to mind. They worked in silence, and once the fondants were cooked, they ate it with clotted cream and fresh blackberries. The tartness helped cut the richness of the chocolate and browned butter. Nil refilled their glasses, and they drank.
“Is it okay if I sleep here?” Selia asked. “I don’t want to spend the night alone.”
“Of course—”
“I’m not saying that I want to have sex. Just the company and warmth would be nice.”
“I’d like that too,” Nil told her. “Do you want to go to bed now?”
Selia shook her head. “I want to drink some more.” She paused, glancing at the empty plates between them. “And perhaps have another fondant. You have more batter, right?”
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“I always keep the extra in battered ramekins. Just give the oven a few minutes to heat up.”
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The air was heavy in the cafeteria the following morning. It wasn’t just Nil and his friends that ate their meals with sullen faces. The staff and other residents appeared equally down. The ludus had not long opened and had few residents. Everyone knew each other, and, as a result, everyone felt the loss. Shawn rarely joined the group for breakfast. Only Adam, Nil, Selia, and Susan ate at their table. The day following Adam’s passing, he dragged an extra chair to the table of four and ate with the group, leaving the fallen’s seat empty.
Udit approached the group with a tray of beverages nobody had requested. He placed one in front of each of them and awkwardly hovered momentarily, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Is there anything more you’d like?” Udit asked. “I know it's not Sunday, but I can ask the chef to whip together pancakes, crepes, waffles or anything you’d like.”
“We’re fine,” Shawn said, smiling politely. Nil had never seen the expression on him before. He didn’t know what to think of it. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure? I—”
“Adam liked rostis and hashbrowns,” Selia interrupted the older of the Roy men. “Could the chef whip together either?”
“I’m sure it won’t be any trouble,” Udit answered before rushing away.
“Your father is a nice man,” Shawn said.
Susan nodded. “I like him very much.”
“The man believes full bellies can fix just about everything,” Nil said, chuckling. “When my mother passed, he woke up early every morning for a week to make us pancakes precisely the way she used to. Her signature dishes followed in the evening.”
“My mother was the same.” Selia’s eyes didn’t move from her plate. “When my abuela died, she made enough empanadas to feed an army. We had to give them away to our neighbors, and when they said no more, they went to people on the street. I miss—” she paused, glancing at the people at the neighboring table. They also ate in silence but appeared more drowsy than morose. “—her empanadas.”
“I know this great place in Angel that makes excellent empanadas,” Susan said. Her plate appeared mostly untouched. She had done nothing but sip her tea since sitting down. “It was on my first beat. I bought every alternate lunch from there.”
“Adam liked his food,” Shawn said, starting on his fourth egg. “I mean really liked his food. Apparently, he was a fatty growing up and got bullied incessantly for it. Adam got into kickboxing and lifting to help with his confidence. No one fucked with him afterward.”
Nil made up his mind.
Objective: Challenge and eliminate any three of the following Summoned in the Death Gauntlet.
* Pietro the Frost Emperor
* Natasha ‘Airlock’ Patel
* Klocky Kennit, God of Time
* Jaqueline The Shredder
* Alex ‘Furball’ Maher
* Omar ‘Djinn’ Fahid
* Shervon Gray
Rewards: 5 Schema Tokens and 1000 Schema Credits per elimination Bonuses available.
He read through the quest once more before accepting it. The Source Gaunlets gave him the necessary tools to take out Pietro on, hopefully, an even footing. Nil excused himself to the washroom and sent Bunty a message asking for information on everyone on the list and highlights of their last three matches.
The man called him straight away.
“I know these names,” Bunty said. “You’re considering the Death Gauntlet.”
“Not just considering. I need to fight Pietro and two others. That’s all I can share with you at this time.”
“Fair enough. I’ll do my part. Please let me know well in advance so I can prepare a broadcast and be ready to get a video out as soon as possible afterward.”
“Sure,” Nil said. “I’m not ready to take on Pietro yet and need more time. A good deal of the others don’t seem to have been at this as long as the others.”
“You want your first match to be against the greenest of the bunch.”
“Not necessarily,” Nil replied. “As long as I won’t be at an obvious and possibly fatal disadvantage, they’ll do.”
“You sound fired up. That means money. I got this.”
Nil returned to the table afterwards. A plate of palm-sized potato rostis and square hashbrowns awaited him. He opted for the former and listened to his new friends talk about Adam, late loved ones, and the food they associated with them.
The death didn’t pause any of their training regimen. At precisely seven o’ clock they split up for the day’s training. Nil and Shawn did laps together and took on the obstacle course side by side. A phone call interrupted their race. Much to the pair’s surprise it was Adrian ‘Wildshape’ Wilson. The conversation only lasted a couple of minutes. Shawn didn’t share its contents and Nil didn’t ask. The barrier-projector’s eyes appeared damp for a moment but the moment faded when he exploded barriers under his feet and launched himself over next obstacle. Nil followed, using Expend to empower his leap.
At eight they reported to Isabella for joint ability training and supervised sparring. The woman didn’t mention Adam and put them to work straight away. Her exercises proved harsher than those of the following week.
During idle chatter, Isabella had revealed to Nil that she lost several friends to Apocalypse Arena. He couldn’t tell whether the intense training was meant to help clear their minds or she expected them to seek revenge and wanted them to be ready for the Death Gauntlet’s dangers.
Rage and conviction guided Nil’s senses. Energy flowed through Nil more easily, bending to to his will. He found it easier to contain and compress them. The energy blades he manifested appeared sharper and better defined too. It was anew level of focus. They were tools. Energy projection and shaping felt like killing tools and Nil finally had a purpose for them. He needed to kill for the sake of his friends and his world.
Nil had found his purpose.