Chapter 115: First Light

Lena paced down the circular furrow her boots had worn in the mud and snow of the practice field. When her path took her past the cabin’s back porch, she shot a glare my way. “God, waiting sucks. Why didn’t you remind me it takes all day for dawn to come up here, Cam?”

I turned a tired smile her way. “You were on too much of a roll last night.”

She kicked the ground. “I’m’a roll out if the sun doesn’t get its ass up soon.”

“No,” I said, “you won’t.”

“Well.” Her glare melted like the snow around her feet. “I sure want to, anyway.”

My smile faded. “I know that feel.”

She grunted and resumed pacing.

It’s not like either of us were long on patience at the best of times. Lena fidgeted in line at the grocery store, although that might have been as much about crowds as time. I had no such excuse and still got antsy if I had to wait more than ten minutes to head out for an appointment.

This was not the best of times.

Once dawn finally broke over the eastern horizon, Lena’s match with Allen would begin.

That was why her Third Eye avatar was clad in gleaming armor. It wasn’t the same as any of the designs I’d seen her in before. But then, it never was.

We’d actually tested once if the game would dress her avatar the same if she wore the exact same clothes two days in a row. It had. But when she put on that outfit a few days later, the Third Eye version looked completely different. I’d felt then and still did now like the game was trolling us.

Today, her armor was plainer than usual. A series of polished steel plates, simple, geometric, and bulky enough to look almost comical. More familiar was the undercoat: fine, interlocking chain mesh like her armor had transformed into when she accepted the Fire from her Realm the first time. Her head was uncovered at the moment, but when she put on the cowboy hat she had tucked under her arm, Third Eye would interpret it as donning a stout bucket helm.

The cumulative effect of the layers reminded me of the kind of armor a hero character would end up with in a generic fantasy anime, the sort of Dragon Quest-ass junk food we’d turn our brains off to after an especially rough day.

I suspected that a person who knew about medieval armor, or someone who pretended to be one on the internet, would bitch us out over that armor. Even I knew it wouldn’t work in real life. Hell, I wasn’t sure Lena would’ve been able to move with its bulk and its shitty weight distribution, even with how much fitter we’d both gotten since the start of Third Eye.

Which was kind of the point. Both participants in this match would look like walking cliches.

Who would Third Eye reward? The hero, or the antihero?

God, waiting sucked.

We’d spent much of the previous night making plans. Good plans. I believed in them. I believed in Lena.

So how come another cliche kept clawing at my mind? No plan survives contact with the enemy.

I understood why Lena felt she had to do this. The fact remained, we could’ve been waiting for the dawn so we could hike out the front gate with the rest of the captives, Allen’s opinion be damned.

Instead, we were one losing match away from making the cabin our permanent address.

I surveyed the practice yard. A wide clearing, at least when it came to trees, but anything but clear. Snow covered every inch of it, except where Lena’s path had blazed a trench of ice and mud. Like at the front of the cabin, Third Eye walls surrounded it, Stone braced by Wood. Various other Third Eye constructs shoved up against them.

From what Matt had said, erecting these defenses was one of Allen’s obsessions. He wanted everyone to practice it, refine their technique, make the walls higher and sturdier and more real.

I already knew they were pointless.

A barrier like that wouldn’t even slow down the creature from the construction site. The one in Allen’s Realm would likely prove just as overwhelming.

Nonetheless, trudging out into this freezing cold and conjuring useless walls to try to make Allen and Jan feel safe represented one version of my and Lena’s future.

Not exactly my ideal of urban living. No buildings over four stories here, although there were an awful lot of trees taller than that. If I’d had the choice to visit, I might’ve enjoyed it for a week, or a month.

Or I might not have.

I’d sure never want to live here, much less as the “guest” of an increasingly unhinged dude convinced he was mankind’s last hope for survival.

Convinced? For sure. What happened to Lena and I almost wasn’t the worst thing about the match. By placing so much symbolic importance on not just winning, but winning the right way, Lena had given herself maybe the only chance any of us had to convince Allen. The flipside was, if she tried and failed, I couldn’t imagine anybody being able to reach him afterwards.

If we ended up stuck, we were stuck, and we probably wouldn’t be the only ones. Allen might let his current captives go, but we couldn’t stop him from abducting, recruiting, “rescuing” others.

“I see you’re excited for the big match,” Matt said.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I tensed. I hadn’t heard him approach, and that was a problem. Sure, I might not need to remain alert right this minute, but going forward? Whether Lena won or lost, I couldn’t imagine this was the last time Third Eye would ask us to stay on our toes.

I stood up to try to hide how startled I’d been. Matt’s smirk suggested it didn’t work, but then, it seemed to be his default expression.

“You know I’m not into PVP,” I said. “Much less having to watch Lena fight alone.”

He shook his head. “It’s a noble endeavor, what she’s trying to do.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say I thought it was going to work, Cameron.” He rolled his shoulders and took the open chair next to the one I’d vacated. “You should start figuring out how you’re going to cheat.”

“I’m not,” I said.

“You’re going to sit here and watch Allen beat the crap out of your girlfriend, then hold you both prisoner?”

“I’m going to sit here and watch Lena teach Allen a lesson.” Sit, I did, if only to prove a point. I’d work on the rest later.

Matt whistled. “How much would you mind if I cheated for you?”

“Personally? I wouldn’t mind at all.” I smiled thinly. “God help you if Lena catches you, though.”

Matt folded his arms behind his head. “Fine. I’ll be strictly an audience member for this one.”

I eyed him. “I’m serious, Matt. Lena is all hells of serious.”

“Oh, I know.” His sigh spoke volumes about how much he thought that was worth.

I scowled. “Are the others coming?”

“I’m sure they will,” he said. “We’ve got our supplies packed and the solar panels deployed one last time.”

I glanced at the side of the cabin where they’d cleared a space for the panels, though of course, from where I sat, I couldn’t see them. “I’m a little surprised you guys bothered with them.”

“Consider it a farewell gift,” he said. “If Lena loses, the two of you aren’t going to be in any mood to put the panels out, but you’d certainly regret it if you didn’t. And if she wins...” He sighed. “I’m afraid none of us actually believe that’s going to happen. The others all think this is a sacrifice play, keeping Allen’s attention on the two of you so he’ll let us go without a fight.”

“You don’t?”

“Like I said, I know Lena’s serious.” His smirk faded. “I just don’t think she’s right.”

“She’s not the same player you beat, Matt,” I said.

He glanced at me.

I returned his gaze.

He blinked first. He looked down to the practice yard, uncorked a Powerade, and took a swig. “Well. Good.”

Something about Matt’s doubts dispelled mine. I supposed it was the same effect that made Lena snap at anyone she saw as criticizing me.

Anyone other than her, I mean. We were allowed to doubt each other, even mock each other. When someone else did it, we closed ranks.

It probably wasn’t a good thing. It certainly wasn’t rational.

It worked. I watched Lena’s fingers zip through a series of gestures over the phone strapped to her harness. She came just short of touching the screen each time, even though her fingers danced in the air. Her feet shifted just as rapidly, a dance of their own, dodging imaginary strikes, adjusting the angles of her own.

She caught me staring and grinned.

I realized I was matching her expression.

Matt almost hid his chuckle as he watched us.

The cabin door opened.

My grin faded.

Gerry emerged first, hauling a pair of chairs from the kitchen. He set one up and sank into the other.

Jan came next, wrapped in at least three layers of winter wear until only her eyes and the tip of her nose emerged. She hesitated in the doorway and stared at Lena. Muffled beneath a pair of scarves, she sucked in a breath. She stomped to the open chair and huddled on it, doing her damnedest not to meet anyone’s gaze.

Ramon, Bob, and Nadia each brought their own chair. They arranged themselves on the side of the door Matt and I shared, but none of them addressed us. When I looked their way, they all averted their eyes.

I thought about what Matt had said. If they thought Lena and I were sacrificing our freedom to buy theirs, they had to feel pretty shitty about it.

I wanted to reassure them.

I didn’t get the chance.

Allen was the last to leave the cabin.

Last night, his facade had cracked. At times, despite his voice changer and his edgelord getup, he’d sounded more like a scared kid than a dangerous criminal. Then again, his ridiculous costume was chuuni as fuck; as an expression of “eighth-grader syndrome,” it fit a scared kid better than it did a dangerous criminal.

Except that this morning, lit only by electric lanterns and the glow from our phones, swathed in Phantom’s roiling shadows, his costume didn’t look ridiculous.

He’d dispensed with any pretense of wearing a mundane cloak. Through Third Eye, I saw Phantom bubble down into the training yard, a shadow that stretched on and on, forming an unnatural curve all around Lena’s boots.

Allen himself, towering, back straight, head held high, stalked down the steps without a word. His long strides crunched darkened snow beneath his boots, and he came to a stop at the edge of the arc Phantom had plunged into shadow. He was every inch Mask again.

And he had a lot of inches. From my vantage point, he didn’t just tower over Lena. He looked half again as tall as her, twice. I peeked around my phone in the hopes it was just a Third Eye effect. No such luck.

I tried to remind myself it didn’t matter. We’d never seen Allen try to throw a physical punch. None of the plans we’d made hinged on Lena’s reach.

Rationalization didn’t help. Every fiber of my being screamed that I should throw myself at him, HP be damned. That I should haul him away from Lena or die trying. The hell with the match! The hell with principles! If he wouldn’t leave her alone, I’d –

Lena caught my eye.

She wasn’t grinning anymore. Her smile was small, sad, and absolutely magnificent.

I exhaled. I pried my fingers off the arms of my chair.

Lena reached out.

Allen cocked his head. “What?”

“Can I touch Phantom?” she asked.

“He’ll touch you soon enough.” Allen’s shoulders twitched with just a hint of a shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

Lena’s fingers extended further. Allen’s cloak rustled and one of the folds bulged out to meet her touch.

Her smile widened, even as her gaze drooped. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Allen said.

“Not to you, dummy,” she said. “I’m sorry, Phantom. I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe after this, your dad will think twice about making you fight.”

Matt snorted. He muttered, “Literally the point of them,” but I got the impression he was laughing with Lena instead of at her.

Allen sure wasn’t. He took a step back and jerked his cloak away. “After this, you’ll learn better than to make yourself weak.”

He still had his edgelord script on lock. His body language, on the other hand, had shifted completely. Instead of looming over Lena, he shied back from her. His words sounded more like empty bravado than a terrible truth.

He was Mask no more, just Allen. Just some dude.

As if on cue, light pierced the tree line to the east. It cast both combatants in silhouette. Phantom’s darkness shrank beneath it. Lena’s armor shone.

Dawn had broken.

Their match had begun.