The scene at the next social event was something out of a fever dream. Carlos, Bob, Sienna, Ella, Caroline, and Marvin sitting in a circle of couches, leaning towards the center, all eyeing one man about thirty feet away: George Jang, pilot of Meridian V. They had been complaining about him for the past twenty minutes. The guy thought he was the best pilot in the stadium—yes he’d made Mecha Realm, but he’d gotten 200th place and seemed to forget that 4th and 2nd were present. He had no reason to be badmouthing the other pilots, spreading rumors, and making arrogant challenges.

“Okay, I have a plan,” Bob said. “He won’t accept a duel from any of you,” he gestured to Sienna, Carlos, and Ella, “so it has to be one of us.” He pointed at Caroline. “I say we give everyone one hell of a fight and coax him into challenging whoever wins.”

Caroline grinned excitedly. “Sounds good.”

Marvin couldn’t help feeling a little anxious. Would either of them actually be able to beat George? Meridian V was not a mech to be scoffed at.

Still, how satisfying it would be to give that pilot a taste of karma.

The group broke apart soon after, with Carlos, Caroline, and Bob going to talk to other pilots. Marvin wasn’t sure why he stayed with Sienna and Ella; maybe he was lazy, or maybe he was growing fond of them. Well, Sienna at least. Ella was fine until she made some insult about Marvin, and then he wanted to punch her.

Why did she hate him so much? Was it because he’d gotten relatively popular over the last year while she’d been in her mentor’s shadow? That wasn’t his fault. Was it because Kit had called her the next Marvin when she was allegedly a year older? That had just been a passing comment.

He wasn’t sure when he decided it, but as Sienna and Ella talked, he realized that he wanted to duel Ella. Fight exactly how Saberstar fought and beat her and traumatize her for the rest of her career.

“What would you do after you retire, Steve?”

Sienna’s question snapped Marvin out of his thoughts.

“Retire?” he asked.

“Yeah. I mean, we can’t be pilots forever,” Sienna said.

That was quite interesting coming from her. She wasn’t thinking about retiring, was she?

“I don’t know,” Marvin said. He chuckled sheepishly. “I just got out of high school.”

Sienna rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s fair.”

“What’s going on?” Ella asked. “Are you talking about…” She nodded towards Carlos.

Sienna widened her eyes. “Oh no, I don’t wanna assume anything about his situation.”

“I think he should just get the implants,” Ella said. “Who cares if you get a little rusty?”

“Would you get implants?” Marvin asked.

Ella’s mask of confidence faltered briefly before she shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”

Hypocrite.

“Anyways,” Ella continued, “Sienna, what’s going on with Bob?”

Sienna’s face seemed to catch on fire. “What?”

“If it’s not about Carlos, then it’s gotta be about Bob, right?”

Sienna scratched her head uncomfortably, and Marvin suddenly wanted to leave. It was clear that the two women were closer with each other than him.

“What prompted this?” Sienna asked.

“I’m just curious,” Ella said, grinning.

Yeah, I’m gonna leave, Marvin decided.

And yet his leg motors were not responding. Neither of them were trying to push him out of the circle, and he couldn’t deny the anticipation of learning more about Sparrow’s pilot.

Sienna opened her mouth to say something, but then sucked in air through her teeth. “I don’t think I should tell you.”

“You guys got engaged,” Ella declared.

Sienna’s face grew mortified and, for some reason, she turned to Marvin. Marvin, in turn, became similarly horrified.

“Uh, I heard nothing,” Marvin said.

Ella laughed—a normal, hearty laugh and not the psychotic giggle Marvin was expecting. But, even more unexpectedly, Sienna relaxed and her lips parted in a dopey smile.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I guess you can’t keep everything a secret.”

“How will this affect your legacy?” Ella asked. “Are you gonna take a step back from mech-fighting and fade into obscurity in the early twilight of your career?”

Where the hell did that sentence come from? Marvin wondered. Definitely quoted from somewhere.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sienna said with a grin. “I have to set another kill record first.”

Marvin shuddered. Hopefully his brain would be out of his mech’s Core by then.

At that moment, his tablet buzzed. Yes, Renee had bought him a tablet with a fake NID even though he could technically receive all messages and calls in his head. This time, it was a text from Caroline, informing him that the scrimmage with Rustica would begin in 10 minutes.

He stood up and gestured to the pit. “We’re about to fight Rustica.”

“We?” Ella said. “Are you controlling the legs or something?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

If only you knew. Marvin didn’t reply and hurried away.

He found Caroline outside the team room, attaching the “retractable” blades. These blades simply slid up and down the arms, remaining completely exposed. After some training, Marvin had figured out how to do the retracting without stabbing himself. They’d also tried to attach a 360 waist axis, but it hadn’t been compatible with the other parts. A rehaul of the mech was planned for the weekend before the season began.

Caroline moved Marvin’s head, wished him luck, then left to go to the piloting room.

Marvin looked down at his arms, drawing and sheathing his blades. It was terribly clumsy, but it would do for now. Besides, the rest of the mech felt lighter and smoother than two weeks ago at the Sparrow fight. Caroline must have replaced a few parts.

In the end, Marvin had decided to keep kill conditions on. The prospect of a stray hit killing him was far too scary.

Although there were no stakes, he felt a weight on his shoulders that had been missing during the Sparrow fight. This one was more final: one round, one kill condition, one chance to beat his opponent. Besides, he needed to put up a good enough fight to provoke George Jang into a challenge.

Marvin stepped through the open doorway into the ring. Same gravely floor. Same reflective walls. Different mech opposite him.

Rustica was significantly beefier than Marvin, painted orange, brown, and red, and wielding a giant battle axe with rocket thrusters behind its blade. Because of the kill condition rule, Bob had agreed not to use those thrusters, but it didn’t make the weapon any less intimidating. Rustica’s armor was thick and jagged, giving a battle hardened appearance. Its helmet was a thick, spiky piece of metal that looked almost impenetrable.

I’d need a kill condition at the neck or body, Marvin thought. Somewhere Rustica was weak, where a slice could disable it for good. I have speed on my side, and probably a blindsight advantage unless he has torso cameras.

He would try for quick attacks, weave in and out, hopefully confuse Bob. All it took was one opening. He’d spring up, catch Rustica’s arms, and initiate the kill condition with a sword to the neck.

“Best of luck, Caroline!” Bob called from his mech.

Marvin nodded and raised one sword across his chest. Again, they’d gone without speakers.

He looked up at the stands. Fewer people were watching than usual, but he did see George Jang’s self-satisfied smirk among them. Ella stood beside one of her teammates, while Carlos sat in his wheelchair a few feet away by himself.

The cackle of a loudspeaker brought Marvin’s attention back to Rustica. The announcer, who just happened to be Sienna, said the lines Marvin had heard so many times.

Prime your mechs. Enter your mechs.

And then, the six words that never failed to shoot adrenaline through his veins: “On your mark, get set, fight!”

Marvin wasted no time jumping into the fray. Best to get a feel for how Rustica fought. He did his classic opening—one high swing that was blocked and then a low jab. Surprisingly enough, the jab landed, but barely made a dent in Rustica’s armor. Marvin dove out of the way as the axe came crashing down, carving a deep gash in the floor. He tried to strafe to the left, around his opponent, but Rustica’s left-side thrusters ignited and it barreled into him, sending him skidding across the floor. Marvin flipped backwards with his own thrusters and landed on his feet, though he had to support himself with his blades to not fall.

Rustica held its axe by the handle’s end and spun around, once, twice. Marvin ducked the first swing, then closed the distance and caught the axe’s handle as it came around again. The impact sent a shock through his joints, but the point was to surprise Bob. And surprised he was, as Rustica froze for a split second.

Perfect.

Marvin sprung at his opponent, blades reared back, preparing to stab the neck.

If only it were so easy. Rustica’s helmet extended downwards to cover its neck, causing Marvin’s right sword to graze off harmlessly. His left arm was caught in Rustica’s free hand.

For a terrifying moment, Marvin saw his life flash before his eyes. Rustica could slam him into the ground right now and crush his entire hull, Core included. He was dead.

But then the opposing mech raised him into the air and flung him across the arena. Marvin tumbled for some time before cracking against the wall. Some components sparked, and others were dead, but overall he was still functional.

A mistake, or a clever maneuver to keep the fight going? Marvin didn’t care. He got to his feet and braced himself for the incoming Rustica.

It’s just kill conditions, he reminded himself. Nothing to worry about. We’re in the Bessmer chair.

Now, to deal with the opponent… When that helmet extended, it had to have left a portion of the head weaker. Marvin would aim for that.

The axe arrived not one second too soon. Marvin dove out of the way and feigned a left hook. Rustica took it far more seriously than he expected, tossing his axe to his left hand and swatting Marvin with the right. Marvin flew across the ground and clumsily flipped with his thrusters, managing to land on his feet. He ran forward again, and the two mechs exchanged blows. Marvin moved in conjunction with the colossal blade, letting Rustica’s momentum spin and position him. All the while, he drew closer and closer to the opponent.

As the hum of steel resounded in Marvin’s ears, he felt the feeling swell in his chest. A steady beating. A gentle thrill.

Had he been scared of this before? Why? This was what he loved.

The axe came down. Marvin stepped on it and leapt into the air. He thrust his left sword at Rustica’s neck, which was naturally shielded by now, but jammed a delayed right blade into the face.

It grazed off, not even making a dent. Marvin could barely register panic before an idea popped into his head. He hooked his left arm around Rustica’s neck and flipped over its head. Marvin didn’t have enough mass to bring Rustica down, but that was all the better. With his free right arm, he retracted the sword, planted his fist in the nape of Rustica’s neck, and drew.

It was too slow to pierce. The blade jammed as it touched the metal, halfway out. Funnily enough, Marvin at first was relieved—finally, an error out of his control. Then the reality hit him and he widened his eyes in horror. Rustica inverted its arms, grabbed Marvin, and flung him off like a ragdoll.

His surroundings became a blur. When Marvin became ever so faintly aware that he’d stopped moving, he immediately leapt to his feet.

And then the axe smashed into his right shoulder.

There was a terrifying crunch, and out of the corner of his eye Marvin saw his right arm clatter to the floor. He instinctively jumped as the axe swung sideways, grazing the bottom of his feet.

No, this can’t be it, Marvin thought frantically as he dodged Rustica’s attacks, doing what little he could with his remaining arm. I can’t lose because of a technical issue.

The axe crashed against the floor again and again, and Marvin found himself wearing out. His mech could’ve weaved through those attacks for hours, but this was a mental thing. The odds of winning with one arm were slim. Too slim for a pilot like Marvin.

If my sword had been faster, would I have won?

Those kinds of things kept him up at night. Whose fault was it, really? If Marvin was better, could he have killed Rustica?

That’s right. Killed.

Little did he know, he’d already lost sight of the kill condition rule. Somewhere along the way, this had turned into a real fight for him.

That was why, when the sparks flew once more as axe hit metal, Marvin realized what he could do to win. There was something that could pierce Rustica’s armor.

As Rustica raised its weapon, Marvin boosted into the air and all but hugged the haft of the axe. He planted both feet on the opponent’s shoulder, then boosted upwards once more, ripping the axe out of Rustica’s hand. The larger mech stumbled forward, confused, and Marvin angled his thrusters ever so slightly to position himself.

For a moment, all was still. Marvin in the air, hugging the pole with one arm for dear life. Rustica, unarmed, frozen in its tracks as it tried to process the next course of action. And the axe blade, extended out beyond Marvin’s head, right above Rustica.

Then Marvin reversed his thrusters and flipped backwards with speed he’d never fathomed before.

The axe didn’t just embed itself into Rustica. It sliced the mech clean in half.