“The Scourge is forever growing stronger. They seek to indirectly create Dark Worlds so they can thrive, develop their armies, and go to war against realms that treasure life and freedom. Their numbers continue to grow while the Control Worlds lay static.
Control Worlds can’t compete in sheer army size, which is why they incepted Apocalypse Arena.
The arena is more than a source of entertainment and a machine for generating magic to fight the Scourge. The competition and trials breed warriors and gods capable of standing up to the source of Cursed Ones and the Void. It doesn’t just exist to solve problems like the Nexus. Apocalypse Arena’s purpose is to ensure that issues are never born in the first place.
Unfortunately, keeping the good things good is a challenge in itself. The Scourge has agents everywhere, and they’ll do whatever is necessary to support their nefarious masters.
There was a time when a coalition of Control Worlds ran Apocalypse Arena. Then, the magic running it took on a life of its own. The construct that runs it understands its purpose; however, its understanding of the governing laws is far too literal, and the Scourge has found the means to infiltrate it. Not only the residents of Beacon Worlds can enter the gauntlets. The forces of Dark Worlds also send their champions. They can’t be allowed to win and climb the rankings. The resources gifted to winners’ realms are meant to fight the Scourge, not assist them.
Do your best, Summoned. The fate of the multiverse rests on your shoulders.”
The introductory video was long and rambled. It revealed information not available to civilians and not stated by reputable sources on the net. However, the slow delivery and repetition had most people in the auditorium yawning.
The qualifiers brought Nil and all participants from Golden Aegis to London Bridge. Apocalypse Arena had bought a decent bit of real estate in the area, including the London Aquarium, the London Eye, and a few adjoining hotels. The converted space included high-end viewing areas, the best training facilities Nil had ever seen—on par with Wilson Luduses—accommodation for participants, and, of course, teleporters to the arena’s backrooms.
Once Nil entered the Iron Gauntlet, he didn’t need to visit the venue physically. His Schema interface and any major ludus facilities would transport him to the Apocalypse Arena backrooms, which contained the pre-match preparation spaces, reward dispensers, and teleporters to the arenas. Golden Aegis wasn’t prominent or affluent enough to enjoy benefits. Fortunately, the nearest Wilson Ludus—which hosted the recent Mortal Realm event—had the necessary arcane device.
It was no surprise when its owner, Adrian ‘Wildshape’ Wilson, appeared on stage after the video ended. “It’s good to see all of you,” he said, flashing his usual toothy smile. Nil couldn’t help but wonder whether the man had a feat that increased his charm and made him likable. “I recognize several faces from last month’s event. Some of you won. Others were close. I certainly hope everyone has been training and put the next few days to excellent use.
“It’s not going to be easy. The best and brightest from around the country are here, and this is where the real competition begins. You know what’s riding on this. The world and powerful civilians out there need you. Getting into Apocalypse Arena and climbing the ranks will be harder and more dangerous than any quest you’ve ever been on. I hope you know what you’re getting into. There are safer jobs and lives for you out there.”
Adrian paused, scanning the crowd for several silent seconds. No one said a word. All eyes remained focused on him. “Some of you have attempted the qualifiers before. But, for most of you, this is a first. Don’t take it lightly. This is your first step into the real arena, and the same protections as Mortal Realm events exist here. However, there are no rules or laws holding anyone back. The arcane construct operating the arena will transport you out if you suffer a fatal injury and surrender, but sometimes it's too late. Death can also take you before you have a chance to react. I’ve lost friends in there, and you will, too.”
Nil scanned the competition. No one budged, fidgeted, or flinched. The prospect of death didn’t bother them, or they were completely confident in their ability. His heart rate increased. Nil didn’t want to die. His family would struggle if anything happened to him.
“I implore you, fellow Summoned,” Adrian continued. “If you find yourself in a no-win situation, don’t throw your life away for pride. There will be other qualifiers.”
“Well, that was a lot, wasn’t it?” Fatima asked afterward, nudging Nil.
“It was indeed.” Xiang paused, glancing between her teammates. Her speech still sounded measured. Nil hoped she’d grow more comfortable with them during the training days before the main event. “A lot.”
Nil had almost caved and contacted Mobi before Xiang knocked on his door early Sunday evening. Afterward, they and Fatima sat in the cafeteria discussing their training plan for the days building up to the event over dinner. The team sat in a far corner, away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. Viktor glared at them from the other side of the dining hall. Lily and Elisha sat with him and waved at the trio politely. The four remaining Summoned flagged for the Battle Royale and placed on the waiting list had all walked by. Only Anya greeted Nil and Fatima. The rest passed with defeated expressions and drooping shoulders. Mobi looked like he wanted to say something but refrained.
All Battle Royale participants stayed in a building that was once a Premier Inn. The upper floors still contained hotel rooms, while the lower floors now contained gyms and training facilities for groups of Summoned. There were entertainment facilities, cafeterias, and bars, too, and several groups made a beeline for the latter. The general air about them suggested many considered it a last hurrah. Nil couldn’t tell whether it was their final or only attempt at qualifiers, or many had resigned themselves to fight or die trying.
Several familiar faces passed Nil as he and the girls made their way to the building’s top floor. Each of them received shoe-box-sized adjoining rooms. It wasn’t a lot of space, but sufficient for the next few days.
“Let's take a couple of hours to settle in before we train,” Fatima said.
“Yes.” Xiang nodded. “I must call Hong Kong before my parents go to sleep. They will want to know I’m here.”
“I don’t really need to settle in,” Nil said. “You guys take all the time you need. I’m going to check out the training spaces and cafeteria.”
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“You like a lot of food. Yes?”
“Yes, Xiang. I like a lot of food. The more calorific, the better.” It wasn’t just using Brutal Battery that drained him. He needed to sustain the symbiote, too. Nil wasn’t sure how Fatima’s living armor functioned, but she seemed to understand.
“Message me if you find a decent training space,” she said. “I want to work on our formation and devise a decent battle plan.”
The trio parted ways. Nil swiftly changed into gym clothes—Symbiotech vest and cargo shorts. Even though the plans to take down the organization were already in place, Nil intended to hold up his end of the contract and advertise for them until then. He had a similar but flashier set of clothes prepared for the qualifier. Shina claimed the material would hold out longer against attacks. They were apprehensive about the shorts and the garment holding up following a full-body Expend.
As Nil explored the Apocalypse-Arena-run facilities, he couldn’t help but feel amazed by the otherworldly architecture and arcane feel. The construct running it and his minions had transformed the humble Premier Inn to give it a castle feel that utilized magic to power the lights and infrastructure instead of electricity. It felt as if he had stepped into another world.
The cafeteria featured banquet tables and cooking fires and modern facilities like vending machines. Nil got himself a cup of hot sweet tea in a paper cup before heading off to explore the training facilities. Nil passed traditional gyms, arcane machines for training individual attributes, and combat simulation rooms covered in arcane symbols.
Andy would love this.
It felt like being a child in a toy store. Nil wanted to play with everything. He was desperate to get the final rank in Absorb, but doing so alone would prove challenging. A lot of the more powerful machinery appeared challenging to operate without assistance. Meanwhile, the attribute-training devices had no such requirements.
Simple training was unlikely to accomplish the task of pushing Finesse to the Iron Realm, but that didn’t stop Nil from trying. He found himself a corner far from the sparse foot traffic. The tiny space involved three walls lined with holes. When it started, heavy darts flew at him. Nil was glad he had picked the base difficulty setting since the projectiles flew fast and hit hard. He tried his best to keep Absorb off and avoid or catch them. The darts fired significantly slower than Isabella’s setup but came from either side of him, too, adding the challenge. After half an hour, Nil suffered a few scrapes and a puncture, but none were dire. Even though he didn’t get the Schema notification he desired, he felt himself getting better and sharper. Layla had claimed Finesse was on the verge of ascending, and he guessed the pressure of the Battle Royale would get him the desired growth.
“That’s him.” Nil heard a woman say nearby. He recognized the voice but struggled to place it. “I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t see the similarity,” a man said. When Nil turned around, he saw the chain-knight from Capture The Flag. The man looked furious. “He’s smaller.”
“Hey!” The woman called, glaring. “You fought in the Pits, didn’t you?”
Nil stiffened, studying the teenager. The voice and build made it easier to identify her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I recognize the voice.” A pair of stiletto knives slipped out of her sleeves. Energy Instinct detected a frigid aura radiating from them. “That’s Little Fist. I’m sure of it.”
“You’re fucking scum, you know that?” The chain-knight said, face locked in a snarl as he advanced towards Nil. Chains grew out of his arms. They weren’t just plain gold like last time; orange flames danced along them. Nil wondered whether the man had advanced his power since they last fought. “You fight cheap, like a fucking coward, and think you belong here?.”
“I don’t want to do this,” Nil said, throwing up his arms and activating Absorb. He didn’t want to take any risks and get disqualified. “Do you want to fuck up your chances for some old grudge, Winter Hunter?” He looked at chain-knight. “And whoever you are. Are your teammates going to be happy going in alone?”
The woman paused when Nil used her Pits name. There was no denying his involvement in the illegal fighting rings. Earth laws had no impact on Apocalypse Arena property. He was currently outside Katherine and her colleague’s jurisdiction. Anything he said now wouldn’t hold up in local courts. The only rules that mattered were the local constructs.
“The arena’s rules couldn’t be clearer,” Nil continued. “Attack me, and you guys are out. I won’t be affected for defending myself.”
“You’re a cocky bastard, aren’t you?” Winter Hunter asked, twirling her weapon. “We’ve already lost the qualifiers. Far too many powerful fuckers this time.” She grinned. “I’ve looked at the rules, Little Fist. We can take you out of the competition and then try again next time. You’re just a nobody—”
“I know what you’re doing, kid.” Nil sighed. He realized there was no talking the pair down. He needed to make them attack first so he could justify knocking them out of the competition. “I’m not going to get egged into attacking you first. Come at me, or fuck off. You lot aren’t meant for actual competition. The Pits is the best either of you will ever manage. Besides, what kind of man gets chummy in an expensive ludus while his sister is slumming it in the Pits?”
The weak taunt worked.
Chain-knight growled, swinging his fiery conjurations at Nil. They never made contact. A wall of transparent, silver-bordered hexagons appeared between the two men, separating them. Spheres made of the same six-sided building blocks appeared around the offensive party’s hands. It was Shawn.
“Disappointing,” he said. “All of you.”
Individuals in full-plate armor followed him. They grabbed the struggling and protesting pair.
“He taunted us!” Winter Hunter screamed. “I fought him in the Pits. He’s scum. The bastard doesn’t belong here.”
“As true as that might be, you can’t just take the rules into your own hands,” Shawn told the pair, sounding deflated as he shook his head. “I expected more from you, Michael.”
“Don’t let them disqualify us, please,” Chain-knight said, sounding desperate and scared. His previous bravado had disappeared. “You saw what he did to me. He’s an asshole. He cracked my fucking skull and humiliated me. Bastard broke her arm, too.”
“Shut up, Michael. I’m not going to risk my job because you couldn’t wait until the Battle Royale to settle your grudge.” Shawn looked disgusted as he spoke. “What is it? Were you scared you couldn’t deal with him when he was prepared? The Arena Moderator will make the final decision. It's not up to me anymore. I just responded to the wards. Activating your abilities outside of a designated area.” Shawn sighed, shaking his head. “Stupid. Stupid.”
The armored people—Nil couldn’t be sure whether anyone was inside the full plate—dragged the pair away, leaving him and Shawn alone.
“Thanks for stepping in,” Nil said. He had heard about people getting jobs through their luduses but didn’t think they’d directly involve Apocalypse Arena. “I didn’t want to risk breaking the rules.”
“But you were fine breaking laws when fighting in the Pits?” Shawn raised an eyebrow. All emotion had disappeared from his voice, and he spoke with a stiff coldness. “I don’t care whether you make it to the qualifiers or not. Unless you have a new trick up your sleeve, it's unlikely you’ll get far. I was just doing my job, and I’m done here.”
“Why do you need to be such an asshole about it?” Nil asked. “I’m sure everyone needs to do whatever they must to survive. You don’t see me judging you for being a titanic ass.”
“Save it for the arena,” Shawn said nonchalantly as he walked away. “I just hate dickheads that take the easy way out.”
The man’s attitude and stand made no sense, but Nil didn’t give it much thought. He messaged Fatima and Xiang regarding his location and what had just happened. The pair rushed out to meet him. They couldn’t delay training much longer.