He didn’t seem to notice me.
The armored figure was sitting on a fallen log, helm folded back. His back was to me, bent over as he ate.
It struck me as odd that he hadn’t detected my approach, but with his helm down, he wouldn’t have the same sensory connection to the suit.
I thought to the voice, Is that Perdinger?
The voice responded, Yes… you just scored a level with those fiends, but the experience you’d gain by downing another Griidlord doesn’t compare. This is a major opportunity.
I let Assess reach out to investigate the stranger.
Subject: Aifric Perdinger
Status: Chosen Arrow
Level: 29
I recoiled slightly. He’s level 29! I thought. I just got to level 11. Even with type advantage, I don’t have a shot against him.
The voice said, You miss all the shots you don’t take, kiddo.
Yeah, but he’ll kill me. He’s almost triple my level. This can’t be a good idea.
The voice said, Not this fella. He’s a renegade. He fought his way out of Buffalo and has been fighting since. Rejected by the Tower, he can’t access his pod, so both his suit and body have gone without repair. He’s weaker than you think. It’s like free XP—you want this, trust me. It’s the best thing for you. You’d just be putting a mad dog out of his misery.
I felt my heart racing as the voice continued. Can you imagine what it’s like? His days are running short. He could give up the suit, but it’s hard to do that. Could you? Instead, he’ll wander the lands like a ghost, accumulating dings and tears until he can’t go any more. It’s a shame, really. Tells you a lot about the state of Buffalo.
The state of Buffalo?
My heart pounded harder, and I licked my lips. Part of me thrilled at the prospect of finally fighting another Griidlord—of testing myself, of gaining the levels a victory might bring. But this man was vastly more powerful and experienced. And there was a simple, undeniable fact lingering at the back of my mind: he was another human being.
If I closed my eyes, I could still see the Hordesmen falling under my blade, could still see their consciousness ending by my actions.
The voice said, Yeah. The Green Men got to him, in part, because he’s wearing out. None of us like to admit it, but your little thinking meat bulbs wear out eventually, and this guy’s been circling the drain for years. In another city, the Griidlords or the council would have stepped in. But Buffalo’s in chaos—they just don’t take care of business. Leaving this poor mad dog wandering the world is like leaving a nuclear bomb with launch codes in a playground. For god’s sake, they’re down a suit, and they can’t fill the Arrow suit with a new warrior until it’s vacated… so do everyone a favor and help vacate it!
I swallowed hard, feeling currents pulling against each other inside me. One current wanted the fight, the challenge, the experience, and the chance to prove myself. Flowing in the other direction were fears of facing this god, along with the simple unease at ending yet another human life.
But the pull of the tide drew me in, and I found myself moving closer.
I was only forming a plan. It might have been simple and prudent to try to take his unarmored head off with a sneaky swing from behind, but something held me back. Maybe I wanted to face him; maybe I didn’t like the idea of ending a Griidlord’s life that way. Whatever the reason, I circled around to approach him from the front.
The man was chewing ravenously on a piece of stale-looking bread. His head was bald, his face ragged and roughly bearded, with sunken eyes underscored by dark rings. He saw me as soon as I moved in front of him. His helm immediately snapped into place as he jerked to his feet, the bladed hands of the Arrow suit extending. He flexed them menacingly. Though he wasn’t a big man, there was a deadly wiriness to him.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“What do you want? You want to take me?” His voice was stammering and wild. The question actually took me off guard—I had expected immediate violence. My purpose was pretty clear.
I said, “You’re a renegade. Relinquish the suit, or I’ll relinquish it for you.”
He paused, seeming confused by my words. I winced inwardly—that had sounded better in my head.
Perdinger’s visored head scanned left and right, searching for others. He looked back at me, “It’s just you? You’re… you’re the kid out of Boston? You’re a rookie! No, not even a rookie, you’re a fetus—ended your Choosing what, two weeks ago?”
I didn’t respond.
He started to laugh. “I dropped my food because of you? Get lost. Come back in a couple of years.”
I said, “You won’t be around in a couple of years. There’s no way out for a Griidlord who goes rogue.”
He cackled louder. “There’s a way out. Oh… I have a way out. I’ve got one hell of a way out… I just need to show him! Once I show him, it’s all gonna be fine. I’ve got a plan. So don’t you worry, just toddle the fuck off now.”
I held my sword, watching him. His darting, tilting head was disturbing, but I was surprised and pleased to find I felt no fear of this man.
“What plan? Show who?” I asked.
His whole upper body swayed as he seemed to gather a response. I couldn’t see his face, but I sensed his incredulity.
“Him! Him, of course! The Green Man! Who else? What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you get it? I just need to show him, then he’ll give me a suit.”
“One of the uncounted suits? The Green Man has a suit? Is he... the leader of the Green Men?” I pressed.
Perdinger threw his head back and howled with laughter up through the canopy of the forest. Then his head snapped back to me with an unnatural, demonic quality to the suddenness of his movements. “I see you! I see what you’re doing! You’re a spy, aren’t you? Sent by the Green Man? Is this a test?”
He grew suddenly panicked. “Oh no… wait… I said too much… I’m sorry, I need another chance. Don’t tell him, don’t… Of course, you’ll tell him. You’ll tell him everything, you little cur, you’ll go back and take my place, I see you…”
His voice grew louder, and I could sense the violent break coming. “I’ll just have to gut you! It’s the only way. You can’t be his spy if you’re dead! You made a mistake coming here; I’ve been in this suit for a hundred years. I know things you can’t even imagine. I’ll flay you!”
As he finished, his visor flared and he charged at me like a bolt. My own visor came to life in response. Why wasn’t I terrified? A century of experience and 18 levels above me, this man should have been my truest dread. Instead, I just felt a rush.
He speared toward me. Holding POWER, I felt the enhanced SPEED that slowed the world around me. I planted my right foot back, turning my body and readying my stance. As I did, I could see the problems with Perdinger’s suit. The light of POWER blazed from his helm, brighter at its peak than mine, but it was inconsistent and flickering. All over his armored form were imperfections—damage and wounds that still sparked occasionally as he rocketed across the clearing toward me. The voice was right; this was a wounded animal. He wouldn’t be easy prey, but maybe type advantage and his condition would make the difference.
His claws came at me in a barrage of rapid strikes. He was faster and stronger—or at least he was when his visor blazed its brightest. When it flickered and faded, my blocking CUTS easily overwhelmed his blows.
But when they were strong, by the Oracle, they were strong. I kept my body angled away from him, presenting less to strike, pulsing SHIELD and CUT as I moved my sword to intercept those deadly claws. The impacts of claw on blade were shoulder-popping, and I had to scramble madly to keep those claws from getting through. One talon traced a scorching, smoking, agonizing line down my forearm; another opened a hole in my armor near the wound I’d received from the fiend a moment earlier.
I had one weapon, my sword, and he had two. In other circumstances, this could have been balanced, but the incredible speed of his Arrow suit and his advanced level made it nearly impossible to defend against both clawed hands sweeping at me in a constant flurry. His attacks were like a storm, surging and fading as his failing suit roared and sputtered.
But still, I was backpedaling. The madness of his attack—the all-out insane ferocity—was overwhelming.
Yet there was no fear. Only a strange, cold determination and… an odd excitement. I couldn’t explain this excitement; it was new, something that had only recently started to grow.
A claw raked through the air, and I turned it away with the flat of my sword. The other hand came in low toward my hip, and I bounced out of the way. POWER flooded me, making me feel invincible. He was a god, perhaps, but so was I.
I felt a sudden surge of a feeling that wasn’t anger, but wasn’t far from it—a bubbling hot emotion that excited me, elated me, and made me desperately hungry.
If his all-out attack could overwhelm my defenses, then I could show him what attack truly was.
I didn’t mean to roar as I moved, but roar I did. Amplified by my helmet, it filled the forest and sent birds flying.
I stepped forward.