The air hit me like a slap to the face as I was flung across the stadium.
This single second that I was flying for felt like an eternity. I hadn’t really thought about the tournament in a competitive sense. Not since I joined Atlantis at the very least. But we were in the thick of it now.
I tasted the dirt and fibres in my mouth while my whole body flailed outside of my control. I could see the white painted line barely a few centimetres away from me.
People cheered. A massive crowd had gathered to watch the tournament. Everything from civilians to top heroes. This was the safest place on Earth. Yet my look kept wandering around. Looking for him. Looking for Jensen.
But landing on him. At the bottom of the massive stadium–in the relatively small fighting area–stood my opponent. Big, almost plump, with four bony, spider-like legs stretching from his back.
“And Moros is shot back!” boom the announcer’s voice, coming from everywhere all at once. “Spiderlegs almost took the whole thing with ease, but there’s still fight in the Atlantis man! Can he turn it around?”
I shouldn’t have cared about this. This was all part of a larger mission. Something more than just a tournament.
Spiderlegs crouched.
Winning could be useful though.
Next thing I knew, he was up in the air with a big and loud woosh.
And it would sure as hell feel good.
He dropped right where I was. The whole ground shook and his legs literally cracked the floor and made it cave in. I barely managed to wiggle out. I stood back up, pulling back my gloves with a flick.
“Better than I expected,” he said with an almost stereotypical American drawl. He was condescending. Ο μπάσταρδος.
“Can’t say the same,” I said.
He threw one of his legs around as if to hit me. I crouched and rolled to my left. He could grow and retract them. He stepped around with a small, annoying tapping effect.
He was trying to get me with one of his legs. But if there was one thing I was good at, that was dodging. So I dodged every single one of his attacks until I could find an opening. Destroying the whole arena–at least at this stage–wasn’t going to be a good idea.
He stumbled after one of his failed attacks. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it gave me the opening I needed. One of his legs was open. I reached out and touched it. A sickening crack and snap later, and he was down.
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“This ain’t over!” he said.
I reached down to the ground next to him. Red lines covered it and it cracked. I pulled my pinky away before any more damage could be done.
“Yield,” I said.
Sweat was dripping from his forehead. His whole body deflated. And Paragon’s voice was still in my head, smug and proud because I intimidated him successfully.
Spiderlegs–where did they even come up with those names?–gave up and I was promoted to the next round. Out of bounds was a small grass moat. The whole stadium’s floor was grassy and reinforced with a specific fibre that made it so we wouldn’t break our heads whenever we hit the floor too hard.
Intimidation. Fear. You know how to use them, Moros. Since you won’t free me, at least learn from me.
“This is a tournament,” I said under my breath. A judge came by and declared me the winner.
Small doors were on either side, for the contestants to come in and out. I walked back immediately and didn’t hear who the next matchup was going to be but I could see a figure standing in the dimly lit hallway.
I went over to wish whoever it was luck, but froze midway. Sofia was leaning back, her eyes locked on mine in a way that was definitely not friendly. I flicked my hands and they were once again covered by the gloves.
The fabric rubbed on itself as I clenched my hands, unable to register anything other than her.
“I moved all the way to the other side of the world,” she said, gritting her teeth. “And yet I can’t seem to escape you. I saw you fight. You haven’t changed at all, Moros.”
I let out a sigh. I reached out and took my mask off. She wasn’t wearing a costume, just jeans and a purple T-Shirt. Her hair was cut short, completely black other than the roots that were a dark red.
She had tried to bury Sofie as much as she could. To finally live her own life. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she felt like. Our experiences were similar, close, and yet so different from each other.
There were no words in my throat. I tried to think of any and say them but I couldn’t.
“Iraklis said you wanted help. Something about Alpha Surge?”
“Yes, I need-actually no. It's a long story. You’ve probably heard, but Alpha Surge is dead.”
Her whole body tensed as soon as those words escaped my mouth. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” I said impulsively. “You-you were finally free and I brought you back here. In Sofie’s life. But they’re still active. The Houses of Doom. And I can’t think of a single way to stop them on my own.”
“Even with your little society?”
“I couldn’t have taken Paragon out without you either. We-”
“We are nothing.” She stepped closer. Too close. I backed away but she just leaned forward again. I could hear her breathe against me. “I am Sofia Galivan. I never knew Jacob Macquoid, or Alex Adamos, or whatever name you want to go by. Those memories? Those shadows? They’re finally gone and you better remember that because if we do this? I won’t let history repeat itself.”
I clenched my hands even tighter. I won’t let history repeat itself. I nodded and she left without a word. I was left standing there, too shocked to move even now.
“Oh, and Alex?” She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Yes?”
“You’re a good man. You always were. But you’re already falling dangerously close to the path you were on before. Making the same mistakes. I won’t let that happen either.”