Chapter 102

We all want to be the heroes of our own stories. That's a clichéd line I've heard over and over again. Another, based on some quote that never died and came from The Before, goes something like, "If you live long enough, you'll live to see yourself becoming the villain of your own story." As I've written this tale for you, I've tried to be honest. I hope, in my heart of hearts, that by the time the whole thing is done, you will see me as the hero of this story. But the truth is, I don't feel that way, and I desperately feel that you won't either.

Even in these early days, during The Choosing, how much of a hero had I been? Okay, I'd stood against Lance, and compared with him, who isn't likable? I can practically see you nodding away at that one. But the reality is that our story so far has shown one truly heroic act: Katya, giving up her chance to win The Choosing, possibly even risking death, diving down the tower to save Lauren after she had been cast into space by none other than... me...

The second heroic moment of the story was about to unfold. I've watched this scene a hundred times since it happened—probably more. I've watched true valor, true heroism. Zara was about to be beaten; we were all about to be beaten. She was very possibly facing an outcome that would mean death or crippling injury. My memory shows me the sword dropping toward her, and you know, of course you know, that salvation is coming. I should remember that sword dropping with excitement because I know exactly what happens. But I don’t. That moment only shames me.

Olaf was weaponless, having cast his shield at the other two. The only weapon he had left was his body—and his virtue. As Lance’s sword descended, glowing hot with the kind of power only I could have matched, Olaf moved into the frame. His suit was bigger and sturdier than Zara's, but he was defenseless. He had no SHIELD attribute, no weapon to fend off the strike. But he didn’t falter. He didn’t pause. He took the blow with his body.

The force of Lance’s sword was overwhelming, the sheer power behind it amplified by the deadly energy of his level 3 CUT. The blade smashed into Olaf with a visible crunch. The impact was horrific. There was an explosion of force, an impact that distorted the entire shape of Olaf’s armor.. It seemed as if every bone in Olaf’s body shattered at once. His armor buckled under the pressure as if it were tin, warping and denting inward in a way that should have been impossible.

Olaf was flung backward as though struck by a catapult. His massive form slammed into the dirt with a bone-rattling thud. The ground shook beneath him as his body skidded across the arena floor, plowing through the dust and dirt like a ragdoll thrown aside by a careless child. He lay there, unmoving, his suit bent and twisted unnaturally, steam hissing from ruptured joints, and the once-mighty figure reduced to a heap of broken armor.

Zara wasted no time. Before Lance had even fully processed the foolishness that he had just witnessed, Zara was moving. She smashed him with her axe as she moved. It wasn't a solid blow, her feet weren't planted, but her axe had advantage over the sword and he landed on his ass, dazed.

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The camera showed Lance's mouth moving, barking orders. It was Lauren he was screaming at. Of course, Lauren was his Arrow—her suit could move faster than Zara's. The camera zoomed out, showing an aerial view:

Zara streaking away from the orb and her opponents. The necessity of putting distance between them and her forced her to move out into open space, not directly towards our base. Zara was clearly thinking about Lauren pursuing her. She moved away from the orb in a roundabout route to get to our base, with Lauren blazing in pursuit. Oracle only knew if she carried enough Flows to get us past the 50-point margin. And, not only did she need to get back to base, but she also needed enough time to disgorge her Flows into the receptacle.

But I have two observations I can make. The first is Lance's mistake. It was clear that Olaf's move had unsettled him, Zara's blow disorientated him. I can only speculate that he was perturbed by Olaf's sacrifice because he perceived it as loyalty to me. He was unnerved by seeing one of the noble class do something so self-destructive to benefit an upstart like me. Maybe that was it, but I doubt it greatly. Olaf was ensuring his family earned a Flow—a tremendous prize. He was protecting Zara from a terrible, possibly lethal injury. Whatever motivated Lance, it led to the wrong decision.

Because of Zara's path, there was probably time for Lance to move himself and his teammates to our base, get there before her, block her path, and in doing so, he would have ensured the end of The Choosing. If he had taken that path, it would all have been over that day. Instead, Lance raced to the nearest high point and started blasting at Zara with BEAM. That might have worked—even a glancing blow would have been enough to slow her enough for the pursuing Arrow to reach her. But it wasn't the sure victory he could have had.

The second observation is one that tickles at my heart a little. Lauren was not a natural Arrow. Lance had chosen her based on her ranking in The Choosing. That, and her social rank. She was not well suited to the class.

But despite that, I can't help but wonder about how Zara kept her lead on her. Even with Lauren seemingly cutting across the curve of Zara's movement, attempting to cut her off, she seemed to move slower than her quarry. It is my speculation, to this day, that Lauren essentially allowed Zara to get away from her...

Whatever the reason, I lay there, my head swimming, my stomach rebelling, watching the screen. As I stared, my head throbbing as though it was the victim of a case of mistaken identity with a blacksmith's anvil, I held my breath.

I had started watching this display in the total belief that my time in The Choosing was over. I had been playing with utter madness in the back of my mind as I watched. I couldn't let go of the ecstasy of the suit. I couldn't relinquish this. Even if it meant only having one of the half-suits that we use in the tournament, even if it meant only having some short weeks, months, or hopeful years with the suit, I had been contemplating going rogue.

But the scene that played out on the screen gave me a strange hope. I had selected well; I had chosen the right champions. Olaf had exceeded every expectation. Zara had punched far beyond her class and even now she raced an Arrow

My head still spun, but my senses had started to return to me. I couldn't stop my eyes from fixating on the screen, but my peripheral vision started to clear, and I began to become aware of the other figures moving around me.