Chapter 99

It was more than my mind could bear.

This had to be it. I was done, wasn’t I? It was over? It had to be. The reality of defeat loomed large and inevitable, heavy as the arena dust settling in my lungs. Why did the universe find it necessary to twist the knife in my back, to show me that damn screen, to give me the glimmer of hope? It wasn’t realistic to think there was a chance. Every logical scenario pointed to Lance’s victory. He had orchestrated the alliance to eliminate me, leaving my team exposed and leaderless. Then he had dismantled almost all of Gideon’s team, piece by piece.

I needed to expect, to know, that the next scenes on the big screen would show Lance’s team finishing off the remnants of my companions.Perhaps they wouldn’t even need to go that far; the priests could call it. A technical knockout. Declare the round over, spare the audience the drawn-out conclusion that seemed inevitable. I tried to push the rising embers of excitement down, to stifle the irrational hope that threatened to flicker up from within. I had to calm myself. I had to accept the truth, prepare myself for the reality that was about to unfold. Anything else was folly.

My heart erupted with feeling as I watched Olaf and Zara do what they could. The odds were impossible, but still they fought on.

Leona stood away from them all, her head hanging. Still, with everything else I was thinking, I couldn't stop wondering, why? Why had she done it?

The ground beneath me seemed to rock and tilt like a ship caught in a violent storm. My head pounded in rhythm with my heartbeat, and through the haze of pain, an unwanted memory drifted to the surface. The third real day of the contest. The tournament when I had revealed my CUT for the first time. That moment when I realized Lance and Gideon had conspired against me. I had been furious then, indignant at the collusion between them, but Lance had only laughed, mocking me for my complaint.

Was it mocking? Or had he been scorning my weakness for not exhausting every avenue to victory? That was what the city needed.

I could still see his pain as I watched Leona betray me. There were limits for him.

Lance had been denied time and time again. I may have spent these last days scraping to survive before I had found my feet. But Lance, too, had struggled. The blows to his psyche as he had victory snatched from him over and over. But he had persisted. And here he was, putting the last pieces together.

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Lance had made it to this point not just because he was strong or fast, but because of his ingenuity, his willingness to do whatever was necessary. And wasn’t that what the Sword of Boston needed to be?

Maybe I was the villain of his story.

Emilia stood like a statue. Her shield was embedded in the orb. She was completely defenceless.

The pack of wolves didn't care about Emilia. They had more immediate prey. Gideon's force was nearly deleted, my survivors were more pressing. But it was Emilia they stumbled upon first.

I imagined what I would have felt in Lance’s position. Would I have acted the same way in Lance's place, I wondered. Could I have struck down a defenseless opponent, someone who had done nothing to me? My heart said no, but my mind had already learned the truth: hesitation created openings, and in this contest, openings led to defeat. Perhaps Lance had learned that lesson better than me, for he didn’t falter. He didn’t pause for even a moment.

Without breaking stride, he swung his glowing blade with brutal efficiency. His CUT was illuminated with power, the sheen of a fully-charged attack, and it slammed into Emilia’s defenseless body with the force of a hammer blow. The screen showed her crumpling form in vivid detail, caught at a distant angle. Her body was sent flying, propelled by the blow, slamming hard into the surface of the orb she had been harvesting from. She rebounded off it like a ragdoll, collapsing into the dirt, motionless. The moment was over as quickly as it began, Lance’s team rounding the orb without a backward glance, focused entirely on their goal of eliminating the rest of the competition.

Lance's group continued around the side of the orb, the scene returned to my brave, desperate, but hopeless teammates. Zara glowed as her suit pulled the Flows from the orb.

Olaf stood to her left, facing outward, vigilant, watchful.

Leona was just there. She knew she had essentially just killed herself. Olaf stared at her. His gaze seemed to suggest that he would do it if he didn't have more pressing matters.

Then, I smiled, a little bitterly, as Lance stepped around the side of the orb. He stepped directly into Olaf's path. It was petty of me, I know, but I would have at least this one moment of satisfaction. I would get to enjoy seeing Lance's victory garnished with this little embarrassment. Olaf was utterly focused. Even as the sensation of movement began to emerge from the horizon of the orb, his shield pulsed with energy. Before he could have guessed who approached him, his form was surging forward.

The collision was terrific. The screen caught the telltale flicker of Lance flexing his SHIELD. He had gained that attribute then? My muddled mind was unsure, but this might have been the first time I'd seen him use it. His form lit up with SHIELD. SHIELD must have done something to lessen the blow, but that was hardly apparent. Olaf's strike was cataclysmic, the force of the impact sent him rolling in the dust. The wide angle of the screen showed the rest of his team reacting, not surging forward, but steadying themselves, spreading out.

It all meant seconds, and that temptation to believe that there was hope continued to gnaw at me.