“Lin Lin! Could you tell us what happened last night?”
“Sure thing Roger, as you can see, last night a horrific crime occurred in District 10 at approximately 21:30, witnesses say that a huge fish-like monster came out of nowhere while our victim was waiting at the train station.”
The shot panned closely at the bloody smear on the bench. Zooming in on the stump of a half-bitten leg.
“How horrible!”
“Indeed! Well, the SGPD has advised people to report any suspicious individual with heavy skin mods to their non-emergency hotlines.”
“I see, Newsroom Saigon sends our condolences to the victim’s family. Now! Daehome’s newest smart-fridge™ and why you should get one! Now Natasha, tell us more…”
----------------------------------------
Pstwoosht
Eyes wide, heart beating, pounding my ears. I ducked just in time to see a foot sailing overhead. The mix of adrenaline and fear, allowing me to feel the base of the cortical modem hum.
A “Switch Kick.” my N-IO flagged. What did I get myself into?
I managed to release a breath I didn’t know I held as the darkly tanned girl in front of me went back into her stance. Left foot forward, hands high, stance tall, lightly bouncing on her feet, she looked like ol’White Lotus in those 2030s Muay thai action flicks. I could feel the sweat roll down my brow, from fear or fatigue I knew not.
“Keep your hands up!” I heard the instructor, Alvarez-sensei I found out, yell at me from the sidelines, hands crossed, he was also overlooking two other sparring sets. Gulping, I did as told, MMA freeware already open for reference.
Slowly she advanced, marching to her own beat and rhythm with that strange energy rolling slow and steady.
She was closer now, the reference advised me to ‘jab’ and so I did, hands unused to such motions thrown straight, aiming at her face limply.
For her, chin tucked, oculars calm, eying each breath and errant twitch. She saw it coming a mile away no doubt. Without missing a beat she simply met to meet my thinly gloved fist with her own elbow. A perfect parry.
No, I couldn't let myself lose the momentum. I threw out another straight jab, same place this time. Of course it’d be blocked, but could she see this coming? I gave a small smile as I threw out a wild haymaker hoping to at least land a blow on her.
… Did it land? Nope.
Instead, she took a simple step back I completely missed. It felt like fighting air.
Still, undaunted, I kept the assault up. Nothing flashy, just straight lefts and rights. Let’s see how you deal with thi- AH!
Kicks! The kicks!
Seeing as I kept coming towards her she peppered my legs with kicks, alternating between thighs and calves. I won’t lie, it hurt like hell, even with the gel-pads on. That’s it. I did the dumbest thing I thought I could do.
I ran at her. Yes. With flailing hooks, lefts and rights.
… Did it work? Nope.
In a single pivot to the side, I found myself like a bull led by a red cloak, and awaiting me? A cold dose of knuckle sandwich. Head almost doing a 180.
Oomph!
“Check-Hook.” the N-IO flagged, diagram from the MMA freeware highlighted.
As I turned my head back, facing my opponent, she began her assault. Left, Rights, Hooks. My N-IO had a hard time flagging each technique she used due to the sheer volume of output with me barely blocking in time. I won’t lie, I was starting to feel a small bit of resentment, why am I already sparring on the 3rd day? I swear-
Shit shit shitty shit SHIT! No time to think! I didn’t even need the N-IO to flag it. It was almost an exact same stance, the same chamber of the leg. I gulped, she had me where she wanted, the last time I ducked, it was at this exact range.
I swear I could see it in slow-mo. There it was. Left foot sliding back whilst the right slid forward. Her left leg once again lifted up, ready to cut through the air and embed rock hard shins into the side of my face.
Still, I could do it, I could dodge it! Immediately I ducked my head down, eyes locked to the grou- Wait. What? Where was the kick? Wha-
OOMPH!
“Uppercut.” the N-IO flagged.
I could feel my head knocked all the way back as my sense of up and down went haywire. Planting me promptly on my butt.
“Nice feint Camille! Swapping it up at the last minute like that! you did well!” Alvarez-sensei roared in laughter.
Camille took my hand and pulled me onto my feet, my breath ragged and vision swirling. Strange… feeling a familiar energising warmth.
“As for you my boy!” I flinched as he slapped my shoulders, the sound of thunderclap rumbling the scrolls on the walls.
“You’ve got good instincts! Although your technique could definitely be improved!” Images of me with mistakes highlighted appearing next to him projected by my N-IO like an AR set.
“Huy. I’d also say you need to incorporate kicks, you’ve got the reach.” Camille chipped in, a polite smile on her face, as if she wasn’t a full head taller than me- that is, including my horns. This time, she sent me a quick .GIF from her perspective, pointing out what went wrong and where I could have improved. In particular, how I made the same mistake in ducking her kicks. Sensei just nodded in agreement, ‘Lean back instead’ he advised.
“So, how was your first spar?” Sensei asked, handing me a water can as I sat down, still panting for air.
I took a deep gulp, almost choking on the fizzy water.
“I-It’s tiring for s-sure.” I manage to wheeze out, my chest painfully burning from the sheer exhaustion. “I t-thought I was going to die- hack-!” That was true, that uppercut felt like a truck.
Sensei took a seat next to me, watching Camille bow and give a fist bump before squaring up against a short man with a metal jaw who did the same.
“Sensei, why did we spar today?” I asked, eyes still locked onto the two fighters circling each other like sharks.
Sensei scratched at his short beard thoughtfully. “Hmmm, it just helps to know what level you’re currently at.” His eyes had a faraway look now.
“Back in my day, we didn’t have these fancy quik-gel gear, or as many people totin’ cyberware or those shitty self-defence junkware, so we’d treat everyone as a newbie. Now though, even a newbie could be a bit dangerous once they get their head filled with an ego and off the shelf gear, like those ‘self-defence’ software” He chuckled, unperturbed.
Hmmm… I had a feeling he was referring to a certain freeware I had in my N-IO. I wasn’t going to tell him that I had it, I decided. So I just nodded, eyes still glued on the fight. Both fighters seemed even enough. Neither seemed to really ‘fight’ all that much, lots of probing and circling.
“Well- there's something good about all the tech these days and that’s medicare for sure, ever heard of CTE?” I shook my head no. I could’ve searched it up, but I didn’t feel like it. The soreness was starting to become more apparent, I could feel my legs starting to bruise.
“Exactly.” Sensei stated, mirth evident in his tone.
“Teep.” My N-IO flagged as Camille kicked Metal Jaw away with a front kick. It was a proper fight now it seemed. Metal Jaw was good, his head bobbing and weaving, his hands were not the fastest but it didn’t need to be I thought. The way he put his body weight into each punch was… scary.
Camille didn’t join in on his game though. Keeping him at a distance with kicks which Metal Jaw took in stride, tanking it all. However I noticed something.
Shoo Shoo. Every punch, every kick, She would ‘say’.
“Sensei, what’s that ‘sound?” I asked, eyes transfixed onto the duel between skilled fighters.
“Breathing. Something you also need to remember to do, it helps with your endurance in the ring.” The bear of a man stated, his eyes still affixed to the tango.
At this point, the other students began to form a circle, sitting, standing, squatting around the fight already going on for more than 5 minutes.
No. It wasn’t only that. My eyes narrowed. She seemed to be ‘fired up’, the way the strange phenomenon within seemed to ignite into motes in the air seemed to agree. For each of those breaths, the energy would seem to almost shoot out of her fists or kicks.
Her strikes slowly became faster, footwork sharper. Like reaching a crescendo, the battle started to speed up. No more probing attacks, now elbows were thrown, knees stabbing into each other abdomens, a vicious dance on display.
Then I saw it. A mistake. She saw it too. Camille had made a blunder. An overextension after one of her kicks missed, and faster than I’ve ever seen throughout the match, Metal Jaw threw a snaking hook, bloodthirsty grin plastered on his visage.
Pivoting his entire hips into the strike, like a cobra springing, it was picture-perfect. Metal Jaw’s fist powered itself into the right-side of her ribs, evidently aiming for the liver.
Camille could only twist her body to protect her liver, but there was no blocking it. She would have to take the hit. Just like Sensei taught before sparring, tense the abdominals and breathe into the strike.
Shoo!
I saw it clearly. In that single breath, the strange energy leaked outwards between the gap, cushioning the hit. For a split second, beneath that coldness, her face was painted with confusion, it seemed to surprise her as it did me.
Whether by instinct or by training, she shook off the would-have-been knockout blow and grabbed Metal Jaw by the head.
SLAM!
A full knee to the face! However, no reaction. Instead, Metal Jaw gave another grin before grabbing her knee and started into a tackle, intending on using his weight to pummel her on the ground where she could not escape. Seeing this, she snaked her arms around his throat like carrying a sack of potatoes under-arm as she fell backwards, legs wrapped around his waist, pulling her chest upwards towards the ceiling. Choking him.
“Guillotine.” both my N-IO and Sensei said at the same time.
Bam Bam Bamph! Helplessly, he threw hits towards her side… still she would not let go. Metal Jaw was starting to go purple.
My breath hitched. Fearing the worst.
Tap tap tap…
Metal Jaw reached a hand out and tapped Camille by the shoulders at which she released her hold on him.
“That was an excellent defence there Camille!” Sensei gave another booming laugh as he walked over to pick up the man lying on the ground taking deep breaths.
“Feng you certainly improved, taking advantage of your cyberware like that was a smart move, your ground game could use some work though” The big man thoughtfully stroked at his short beard.
‘Feng’ gave a thumbs up. Body still on the ground.
“Alright everyone! Form a circle! 10 minutes plank and then it’s 70 sit-ups!”
At that the entire dojo groaned. I swore I could also see Camille drop her mask with a wince.
----------------------------------------
Ughhh so sore. I felt my body groan while waiting for my auto-cooker to finish. It’s only been about two days but my body already felt like a brick. It moved like a brick too for that matter.
Regardless, today was a rest day, Alvarez-sensei, the instructor, ordered me to stay home and rest up, something about letting my muscles build up… but I didn’t tell him my bioware increased the rate at which the ‘muscles regrew’, I was too busy being glad that the ‘light’ session was over.
Right! First things first, I have decided to call the phenomenon:
‘Pneuma’.
I based it off the word for breath from the Greeks; Pneumonia, Pneumatologia… eh eh? Get it?
Well it was either that or ‘P-factor’. Both sounded hella cool.
Then, memories came to me abruptly, recalling a lonely library, scrolling through a long forgotten book with a long forgotten tutor.
Sigh. I closed my eyes, letting my mind slowly filter out the lattice and motes of energy in the air. Jogging my mind onto a different memory, pushing the distasteful picture in my head onto something else. Like the fight.
That blow should have clearly hurt. But it didn’t. Why?
But of course… I knew why, didn’t I?
Of course, it was that energy again. ‘Pneuma’. Looking back it made sense, the way Alvarez sensei swirled it within as he meditated. How Camille seemed to eject the strange energy in each breath and strike. Yet, most notably was how she managed to use it to ‘protect’ herself. I don’t think she knew how it worked either.
Then, the thought dawned on me. Could I do that too?
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
With my eyes already closed, I evened my breathing. Thinking of nothing else.
Then slowly… inhale. I could sense it. A deep deep warmth below the umbilicus. No. Much much deeper. Exhale. The viscous flame within merely licking. Refusing to move, teasing the diaphragm. Inhale. I paid no attention as the motes started to condense around me, or how the lattice seemed to be more acute- brighter and warmer. Exhale. Pneuma within started to heat up, the flames crawling upwards, flicking at the lungs. Inhale…
I kept at it for quite a while, it was strange, but in that moment of ‘meditation’ every sense was heightened. I could hear the hum of my cortical modem, the sweet smell of rice and even the distinct awareness of the air cycling through the purifier.
I tried to breathe the pneuma upwards, but for now, no matter how hard I tried to inhale or exhale, it was like trying to catch water with your hands. The heat would only reach the base of my throat at the larynx and further attempts started to become… painful.
Ding! Right. Fried Rice! Well, no point forcing it now, I still had time.
Mhmm. Not bad, I’d have to heart this recipe for the future.
Idly, I browsed through the web, where it looked more like the 2030s or 40s than present 80s on account of the Krash. Last time, I didn’t find anything and sure enough, there wasn’t anything new either…. on the surface level at least.
I did not know how much time had passed but I found myself worming into ‘Kiwi BBS’. A pretty old forum by the looks of it- seemingly catered for conspiracy theorists. Honestly? Reading the posts made my brain want to shortcirc itself. Yet, something caught my attention.
A board: ‘/SSS/’ standing for ‘supernatural sightings saigon’. I honestly didn’t expect much when I off-handedly took a peek. More crazy theorists. Copypasta, badly rendered AI art and old threads dating back to the 2000s.
Then- I saw it. Buried under piles of crack posts:
►Frosskabear
Replied On 11/5/2082:
« D2! Anyone else seen pixies? »
Attached with it, a short clip of a small humanoid with wings biting down on an apple, taken from a long distance. Yeah, I didn’t believe it myself. I’d thought of it as a coincidence, that someone wrote a prompt for a virtual intelligence to render… but the ‘pixie’ in the picture was almost exactly as I remembered. Though the coloration was off.
I flinched at the thought of it. The video clip even showcased the rows upon rows of sharp teeth as the ‘pixie’ bit into the apple.
So more research. More digging. The OP: ‘Frosskabear’ first started posting about a week ago. Their previous posts were actually from the /tt/ tabletop board, lot’s of mundane stuff, shadowrun, neon-city overdrive, messerkampf. That sort of thing. If anything, they seemed to be equally as clueless to the board as I am.
►Choombaplumber1
Replied On 12/5/2082:
« Really? Acolite? Pixie? Why would there be Pixies in Saaigon? your AI Prompt is pretty good though, add in ‘hikecam’ next tsime »
►Frosskabear
Replied On 13/5/2082:
« Acolite? But I swear I saw it for real »
►Choombaplumber1
Replied On 13/5/2082:
« U a board sprout, so Aco-lite ;) »
►DALbitKkat
Replied On 13/5/2082:
« welcome to the schcriz club acolite, ntm you just probably saw a chitty holo [0d 19:45] » A different user this time.
►Frosskabear
Replied On 14/5/2082:
« o(╥﹏╥)o »
At that, the discussion board delved into other topics such as the grizzly murder by the train station or some other nonsense theories like cults worshipping dragons and doomsday predictions.
I decided, well, what have I to lose? Sure the net wasn’t as secure as it was before but worst case scenario, this account was a burner, no footprint back to my mains, I didn’t even emit a large footprint anyways. Especially since the PR department was the first to get sacked.
So I sent ‘Frosskabear’ a direct private message.
« I believe you, I saw the pixies too. » I went straight to the point.
« Who are you? And really? I thought I was crazy » They responded, faster than I expected, but who am I to judge?
« I don’t got proof but I really do believe you, where was the shot taken? » I asked. Pulling up a map tab ready to mark it.
« Was heading to a shop in Eurotown, I thought it was a hologram first until I saw how it reacted to me. Holograms don’t do that. Lucky I got a few shots off. You really do believe me? »
I felt excitement and fear rush through me, on the one hand I knew I wasn’t crazy now, but on the other this meant that more of those things existed. Where were they now? Will I randomly run into one again? I shook my head. No point worrying about it yet.
I hummed in thought. Eurotown. That was District 2. Officially ‘Thu Duc City’ but no one called it that… not even the ones who proposed it a separate city.
« I do. Did you also see anything weird around them? » I asked, hoping their run in with these pixies let them ‘see’ the same things I saw.
« ??? Wdym ??? »
Nevermind.
Before I could continue, I received files.
177003.png.3kb
177004.png.4kb
177005.png.8kb
More pictures and clips of these ‘pixies’, ones not posted on the board for the obvious (suspicious) grainy quality.
« Here, fellow pixie hunter! »
« Pixie hunter? » I cocked my head, what did they mean by this?
« You’re interested in solving the mystery too aren’t you? We just need more proof to get the board to take us seriously. Dw! I’ll be contacting my friends over at Eurotown if they saw stuff »
At that they went offline, leaving me no chance to respond.
Like hell did I ever want to see those ‘things’ again!
I traced my fingers over my eye, remembering the permanent changes I saw through the mirror.
« Lol. Ok, I’ll let you know if I see anything. » Sighing, I decided to end it there. Only so much crazy in a day afterall.
How long has it been? I rubbed my temples, trying to massage the tiny hint of a headache away. I glanced at the window. Outside, where once was sleepy dawn. Now, it was fully bright, suggesting the infamous 12:00 pm sun had come. Though this time, the sky was filled with the strange energy only making the cityscape even brighter, blending into the urban vibrancy. Of course, only I saw that.
I could go for an Ice-cream right now. I thought as I saw an Ice-cream van parking just right outside my neighbour’s driveway.
That is until I received a call request. It was from Huang the Lotus Claw’s receptionist.
« Apologies, Mr Huy? This is Huang, it’s related to your filing. » He said ominously.
« I see, then what have you found? » I asked tentatively, not liking the tone one bit.
« I think we better discuss this in person. District 8. Here. »
https://…pp/.-e.com
« Got it, I’ll be there. » I ended the call there. I felt nervous, afterall, what could get the man in such a hurry and nervous?
----------------------------------------
I flashed the ‘xe-om’ driver a tip as I got off the scooter, handing the helmet back as I readjusted my hood, making sure to cover up my horns.
Apparently due to train workers going on strike, the trains were inoperable. Which meant I had to take the scooter service.
The address given led me to a strange place, it was an odd-looking netcafe with neon signs boasting “Pre-Krash speeds!” and “Only 10SGD an hour!”. The space was tight, only a counter and an elevator. No one was even manning said counter. I walked over to the elevator keypad, bulky and jerry rigged.
A part of me was screaming: this was stupid, why did I agree to come?
That... I should turn around right this second and pretend I didn’t see anything. Yet while nervous, I was more curious than anything, and to be honest, even excited… Maybe I have been reading too much fiction afterall.
“Which Floor? [?]” the obviously not a calculator screen bleeped.
At that I inputted the numbers as instructed by Huang.
443113
Did I get it right? I thought I messed up the sequence… that is… until the elevator started rattling and opened up. I took a look around me, checking if anyone saw me. No one. Good. I took a deep breath swallowing down my nervousness, and stepped in, waiting as the elevator descended slowly. I could ‘feel’ the air almost buzzing, my hair standing on its ends.
----------------------------------------
“YEAH! ANOTHER K.O BY BANHAMMER!”
I stepped out from the elevator into the thumping beats of hard rock and western, the fusion making no sense yet fitting for the scene I saw before me. A large sunken pit with metal and debris strewn about. I almost had a double take on what it was. An Arena. An honest to god Arena.
BAM!
“OH! WILL OUR HONOURABLE KNIGHT SURVIVE TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY?” The announcer belted into the mic, the crowd screamed in chorus as a modified forklift mech slammed into the wall, impaling its prongs into dry concrete. Missing.
I turned away from the clashing of steel, instead, following the instructions, walked upwards a staircase to a private booth.
“It’s good to see you Mr Huy, I did not expect you to arrive this early” Huang didn’t even turn around as I took a seat beside him, eyes glued to the ‘match’ in the arena. The booth certainly had a good view, no obstructions, no pushing.
“This place even legal?” I asked, settling onto the comfy chair.
“No. But I think the District 8’s police chief certainly enjoys it.” grinning, He gestured his hands to a booth below us, where a rotund man with salt and pepper hair sat, enjoying a gin by the looks of it.
“I see…” I nodded, ordering the non-alcoholic drink of the day: ‘Lover’s Lemonade’. 50SGD more than a normal lemonade.
“What happened?” I asked Huang.
The Lotus Claw secretary gave me a grave look. “A Leak. Someone leaked the information about your case.”
…What?
He passed me a folder. I noted how his fists clenched tightly, veins threatening to pop. “Damn idiot thought he could play the Lotus Claw and get away with it.”
Shocked, I flicked through the folder. Aoi Matsushima, 30 years old, divorced, worked as an accountant pre-Krash, joined the Lotus Claws a month post-Krash on March 5th.
“Why? And what does that mean?” I whispered, the shock slowly giving way to fear.
“I don’t know why he did it. Yet. No worries, he’ll sing soon enough.” Huang sported a dark smile. “But.” He paused. “We might not need to, shortly after he got locked up, a Ninja came sniffing around.”
That was not good. Acquisition specialists, Information specialists and the like… aka Ninjas. They were employed almost exclusively by Corporations ever since the “True-Freedom” act.
“Agreed. It’s a fucking mess.” The gangster secretary ran his hands through his hair, looking more his age than ever. “Worse, it was only yours.”
I could feel a chill run up my spine. The implications were… deadly. Why? Why- I didn’t finish the thought.
Images flashed through my mind, grainy and long ago, lost in the sepia.
I knew exactly why. But could it be? Just for that? I stared at my lemonade, not daring to even take a sip. This was revenge and I was the only living target. Corpos could be notoriously petty.
“Good news, we already finished your investigation.” He then pulled out another file. “In light of what transpired, I was glad that my insistence on physical record keeping only saw that the damn idiot wasn’t able to leak the results.”
I nodded gingerly and took a read.
“Chau Dupont, goes by the name ‘Undertaker’... what a terrible street name.” Huang muttered. Coughing, he continued on.
“Ahem, Hired muscle, ex-troubleshooter. Got ‘Let go’ in disgrace for bribery and running a drug ring. Specialises in object acquisition and low-level espionage. That’s ground jargon for kidnapping and stalking by the way.” Huang took a sip of his Tea. Branded and dark red.
“For a woman of her… meagre talents, she charges quite high. Higher than some high-level talents in fact. I know the claws for one would never hire her. ”
I flicked through the files, images from security cams from the 2010s showing this disgraced ex-troubleshooter meeting up with 5 individuals. Good evidence, but not incriminating.
It’s almost like the ones hiring her didn’t know the ‘BSP’ best social practice and decided to procure talent by themselves… with more money than brain.
Sigh. I let out a deep sigh. I was right. I had hoped it wasn’t the case, but it seemed indeed that my classmates were the ones that punked me that fateful night. They would have the resources and motivation to do so, and I somehow doubted their research expertise if their group work was anything to go by… Okay I was a tad bit ticked.
“Be frank with me Huang, how much can you do against a couple of dumb college students?“ If I wasn’t taught this I wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes sparkled intensely at my dropping of the ‘Mr’, it was a clear desire for future partnership between two parties. Myself and the Lotus Claws. However, I also saw hesitation.
Of course. I did not state the obvious, dumb college student was putting it (very) lightly. They were ‘Pure Corpo’ practically untouchable from your average mom and pop stores.
“You know Huy…” I didn’t react to his dropping of honorifics.
“Usually, a Corporation’s samurai would do what you are… implying, even a fallen Corp would still have samurai” I nodded, that was true.
Negotiation 101, save me!
“However, I don’t.” Hit them with the truth. Remain cold. Let them come to you. “Yet we speak of Honour today.” Insinuating on the ‘Honour’. Pressing in on the Lotus claw’s desire to ‘look good’.
I spent a long time just… thinking before heading here. I knew that there was some negotiation at hand, even if the topic was unknown. Theory and wisdom hence dictates research and deep thought on what I could offer and what the position of the other party was. That day at the clinic already gave me a glimpse of the puzzle piece.
The Claws wanted good publicity, the gravitas of being more than gangers and I wanted their service and protection. However, I was a Corporate ‘Legacy’, though fallen, I was born with the old boys club membership in my DNA.
Where a street entrepreneur would have to jump hoops and lick boots, with VI sweeping the system for keywords and names, it would only take me a fraction of a second to get the same paperwork needed. Unfair? Undeniably so. Welcome to the Age of ‘Companies are people’ baby!
Ahem ahem. I got carried away.
In short, no, I could not make them ‘Official’, but I could offer them a vouch of legitimacy and backing. It wasn’t even hard. In the days I’ve been heading to the Dojo, I saw how the people there considered the Lotus Claw- not the SGPD, the de-facto authority already, if anything they would find themselves competing against Glasgow-Yard, a Troubleshooter outfit turned company turned rentable district authority.
A small part of me even wondered if my meeting in District 8 was also another play to show me ‘what if’ the Lotus claw wasn’t in control.
“Haha I see! Honour… as the leak is another direct violation of the protection afforded to you, honour… honour dictates that I must compensate you of course” I earnt his respect now. His vicious grin told me just that.
I took a deep breath. Hot Pneuma within licking at my larynx. Motes condensing around me. My eyes, sharpened and focused- as if to capture this moment in stone.
I matched the same grin, pouring my feelings of cold anger into the curve of my lips- painting it just as vicious.
“Just so happens, I am in need of Samurai.”
At hearing my words, smiling, Huang stood up, turning towards the pit, eyes fixated on the figure standing atop a burning wreck of a forklift mech. Military grade exosuit plated over with makeshift shiny slabs of steel and cloth.
“CATS! DOGS! INPUTS AND OUTPUTS! GIVE IT UP FOR YOUR NEW MAN VERSUS MACHINE CHAMPION!” The air was electrifying, motes of Pneuma scattering erratically.
“FOR OUR KNIGHT!”
“L-L-LANCER’!” The announcer belted from the depth of his lungs making sure to roll the r, He would make a great opera singer I thought as the arena seemed to roar. Some in the crowd lighting road flares, waving and chucking it into the arena. Others waving their burning shirts like flags.
Above the arena, a massive display featured a shot of the ‘Champion’. Camera drones circled her, giving wide angles as she stabbed her ‘Shield’, slab of metal in Lotus Claw colours, and ‘Lance’ easily two times her height, smoking at the hilt, into the ground.
The crowd turned silent as her fingers snaked its way to her helmet. One by one, with each latch hissing, until there was no more.
As she lifted off her helmet the crowd got even wilder. Yet… she seemed… familiar. Only until her face was fully shown, unobscured by shadows and smoke did I notice. Skin tanned dark and hair cut short. Eyes sparkling with joy and pride unlike the calm- ice cold visage shown in the Dojo.
Camille.
Clink clink, the sound of ice being swirled brought me back. I turned to look at the man, barely able to conceal my shock. Opting to stay silent instead.
Huang turned to look at me, steady and in check, yet betrayed by his eyes brimming with pride. He raised his glass of tea.
“And Samurai you will get.”
It seems, this man won my respect in equal measure.