Chapter 101

Arthur hadn't seen Leona grapple me!

To him, she was another member of my team!

He surged at her as he rounded the corner. And, for all her zombie-like immobility, she reacted. Theo gestured for him to stop, but the attack had triggered something in Leona. I wonder if her mind was with her at all as she flailed those bladed claws at them both.

They had won, no matter what happened now. Even if Zara did somehow manage to return enough Flows to our base to get me to the next round, Lance's team would have no difficulty gathering what they needed to breach the 50 points they needed. Gideon's team was eliminated. Lance's had no motivation. Olaf and Zara were driven. Lance screamed, I couldn't hear his words, but it was easy to imagine. He was trying to drive his teammates to push harder, fight harder, but they waned. Olaf was willing to take the punishment, and more than willing to deal out much worse. Lauren, Theo, and Arthur had little appetite to be hurt, crippled, or killed in these fading moments.

It was with dispassion and a settling sense of finality that I watched Leona finally fall. Theo had come at her with his axe, and she had met him in kind with her glowing bladed hands. Her mouth gaped open in a mournful shattered scream as she fought. She fought with hysteria. As their glowing weapons clashed in a flash of light and a shower of sparks, Theo was the one left reeling back. I think Leona saw an opening there. I'm not sure what she was thinking, what awareness she had. Maybe she believed that she could put Theo down as he staggered from her, leaving her with one less opponent to stand against. Maybe she was just a crazed machine exorcizing her demons through violence.

But Arthur had a similar thought. He might have had no appetite to risk himself, but as Leona lunged at Theo, moving further from the protective wall of the orb, Arthur moved in. Putting her down in this vulnerable moment would only simplify his remaining moments; it was the safest thing he could do. He hit her blindside with his Shield, the energy ballooning out in a wave. Leona had no SHIELD attribute, and the impact ripped her from her trajectory toward Theo and tossed her against the orb. She bounced off it. The replay slowed, revelling in the violence of the moment. Even the crowd that was incessantly shrieking around me gasped again at the replay. Leona's body curled as it bounced from the wall of the orb, turning in on itself like a dying beetle. Arthur could have left her to tumble to the ground then, but instinct, or meanness, took hold, and he hit her again as her form flew back toward him. She rolled in the dirt, totally inert, her limbs splaying and tangling.

Zara was completely exposed on their side now.

It took too many moments for a suit to detach itself from an orb for her to be able to escape. I think maybe Zara had been watching Leona's defeat unfold, and perhaps she had started to pull free from the orb, but there simply wasn’t enough time. For Arthur and Theo, this whole ordeal could be brought to a prompt stop by putting her down, and they moved in without hesitation. Olaf, his back to what was happening, seemed to react with a sixth sense.

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I've watched that replay countless times in the years since, studying it for clues to what drove him in that moment.

I believe Olaf reacted to Lance. Lance had seen what was happening beyond Olaf—he had seen Leona fall, seen Zara starting to pull free of the orb. Lance grew urgent in his movements. Everything was playing into his hands, but victory had slipped through his fingers too many times before. He stepped past Olaf, exposing himself to what could have been a painful strike from my Shield champion. But to Lance, it would be worth the risk if he could put Zara down, or at least interrupt her.

Olaf, Oracle bless him, didn’t take the bait. He didn’t seize the easy target of Lance's exposed side; instead, he understood the true threat, and he turned away from Lance, his instincts screaming that something worse was happening. He saw that Theo and Arthur were nearly upon Zara.

The shield of a Shield suit is a massive thing, a slab of defense that would be cumbersome if not for the immense strength granted by the suit itself. Griidsuits took different shapes and forms over time, molded to the nuances of their wearer. Some Swords bore two-handed greatswords, others had delicate sabres. Olaf's shield was still unadapted, having only bonded to him that very day, but what he did next marked him as being just as gifted for the Shield suit as he was unsuited for the Sword.

In that instant, he felt what he needed to do. The action was too fast and fluid for it to be anything but instinct.

Olaf threw his shield. Every fiber of strength and power that flowed through his immense suit directed itself through the motion, and he sent the shield, already blossoming with the light of a pulse, streaking past Zara and toward the other two. The flight of the weapon was utterly flat and so incredibly fast. Theo and Arthur were bunched close, having forced themselves against each other in their eagerness to reach Zara, and the wall of the orb had corralled them. The shield struck Arthur on his shoulder with its left corner, surprising him, the kinetic force spinning him on a vertical axis and tossing his body aside. It barely deflected in course, meeting Theo in his gut, picking him up with the force of its punch and carrying him away. He hit the ground hard, skidding on the dusty floor on his backside. He came to rest in a sitting position, doubled over, leaning on the huge shield that still rested in his lap.

Zara was turning, her axe now free of the surface of the orb, but as she turned, all that faced her was Lance, his sword crackling as energy surged through it, all of his attention on her—on ending this, on finally doing away with me, my challenge, and any question of his right to be Sword.

Beneath the half helm, Zara's face contorted in shock. She had no route out, Lance was before her, Lauren blocked her right side. Already Arthur was finding his footing again, planting his feet and turning to face her. Directly before her Lance’s sword was erupting with energy as he raised it. There was more going into that assault than needed. It was an outpouring of all his frustration. Every scrape and ding on his ego was emerging as he moved towards her, his sword blazing as he held it above his head. My own breath caught in my chest as I watched the attack with dread. The blow that was coming would seal the Choosing.