Marvin woke up once again to bright lights, except they were a lot closer this time. In addition, the surroundings were deathly quiet.

He was in an enclosed space—four silver walls, one of them on hinges. The light was coming from a ceiling panel.

Marvin’s view shifted ever so slightly, and he heard a toilet flush.

“Shit!” Ben hissed.

“Wha… Why are we in the bathroom?” Marvin asked.

“Shh!” Ben inched away from the toilet, and it flushed again.

“Are we at Mecha Realm?”

“Yes, we’re in the foyer. This is spy business, Marvin.”

“What?”

“I’m following Bob.”

“Who’s Bob?”

“Rustica’s pilot.”

Marvin’s mouth fell open. “I don’t think we should be doing this-”

“This is our only shot. You’ll thank me later.”

“Why are we hiding here?”

“I’m biding my time. Bob went to the snack bar and will return to the foyer in approximately one minute.”

“Why not just wait in the foyer?”

“I can’t whip out a robot head and turn it on in the middle of all those people.”

That was fair, but perhaps Ben could’ve woken him up before he started stalking Rustica’s pilot?

Caroline would never approve of this, Marvin thought. If Ben got in trouble, there would be no one left to help him. Those tickets to Mecha Realm would have gone to waste.

Why are they going so far out of their way to help me anyways? Is it just because they want me to be their pilot?

“Time’s up!” Ben said. He sped out of the stall, had the decency to wash his hands for ten seconds, then sprinted out of the bathroom.

Marvin was not ready for the sheer number of people he saw. The foyer was a golden semicircle the size of a football field, and it was filled to the brink. The crowd expanded and contracted like a giant block of jello as people made their way through. On the far side was a fancy bar, and in between were hundreds of standing tables.

How is Ben gonna see Bob?

But evidently he did, because after pausing at the edge of the crowd for a second, he began moving forward again. Cloth brushed Marvin’s camera and a million sounds passed through his microphones. At first Marvin was incredibly disoriented, but he soon saw who Ben was aiming for: a tall man with an orange pilots’ jacket draped around his shoulders.

Marvin knew very little about Bob or Rustica, but they were only a second-year team and had already made Mecha Realm their first year. They certainly had ambition, but was it so much to kill an eighteen-year-old?

Bob was standing at a table, talking to none other than Sienna Lee. Sparrow’s pilot wore a similar pilots’ jacket, except this one was dark red and black. Neither of them expressed the overly friendly demeanor most people possessed in these places; they genuinely seemed to get along.

“Excuse me, sorry,” Ben said as he slid past two people facing back to back. One of them turned around.

“Hey,” she called.

Ben froze. He slowly turned around, and Marvin found himself facing one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She wore round, tinted glasses and a blue and silver kimono, and her onyx hair was woven in an intricate braid.

Blue and silver… Legionnaire?

“Oh. Hello,” Ben stammered.

“Your backpack’s unzipped,” the woman pointed out.

“Ben, ask her about Legionnaire,” Marvin said.

“What?” Ben said.

“Your backpack,” the woman repeated. “Here.” She walked behind them and pulled the zipper closed.

“She’s wearing Legionnaire’s colors,” Marvin said. “I think she’s on the team.”

“Oh! Um, ma’am, just a quick question-” Ben paused. “Uh oh.”

Then he suddenly began speed-walking away. Marvin was about to yell at him to go back when he noticed Bob was no longer at the table. He scanned the room for a large patch of orange and spotted the pilot heading towards an exit.

Is this the right move? Is Rustica or Legionnaire the more likely suspect? Why can’t we just find Ishaan?

Marvin kept quiet and watched as Bob reached the exit and rounded a corner. Ben and Marvin passed through a few seconds later, entering a wide hallway lined with neon lights that flowed in a circle along the walls. The people here were sparse, and Marvin had a clear view of where Bob was heading: an elevator that would undoubtedly take him back to the arena.

Ben picked up his pace. There was still thirty feet between them, but the elevator was farther, and Bob was in no hurry.

“What are you gonna say to him?” Marvin asked Ben as he gradually closed the distance.

“Business talk,” Ben replied.

That was not a grammatically correct answer, Ben.

Just then, the elevator doors opened and two men in suits stepped out. At first, Marvin dismissed them as security guards, but security guards didn’t have prosthetic eyes.

“Manhunters!” Marvin exclaimed.

Ben stifled a laugh.

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“What?” Marvin asked.

“Sorry, it’s the way you said it,” Ben said. “But yeah, I know what Manhunters look like.” He continued trudging forwards.

“What if they’re meeting Bob?”

“We’ll get to him first,” Ben said.

Marvin widened his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The Manhunters weren’t walking quickly but there was purpose in their steps. Their red, robotic eyes were dangerously unreadable; they could’ve been staring at Bob, Ben, or even Marvin’s camera poking out from Ben’s shoulder.

Ben broke into a jog.

“What are you doing?!” Marvin cried.

“Excuse me!” Ben shouted.

It was as if everyone in the world suddenly turned their eyes on them. The Manhunters stopped walking. Bob looked back in surprise. Marvin wanted to crawl into the deepest depths of his Core and never come out.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re really busy,” Ben said, running up to Bob, “but I was just wondering if I could have your autograph.”

Bob stared at him for a moment. The Manhunters remained motionless.

What have you done?! Marvin’s head screamed.

But then Bob started laughing, and the Manhunters resumed walking.

“I didn’t think we had fans here,” Bob remarked. “Where are you from?”

“Nagatown,” Ben said, handing him a pen and a little flag with Rustica’s emblem.

Marvin couldn’t believe his cameras. It seemed Ben had planned all of this out beforehand.

“Oh, right next door. That makes a bit more sense,” Bob said, signing the flag. The Manhunters passed by without so much as a glance in their direction. “Is this your first Mecha Realm?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re in for a great time.” Bob handed back the flag and pen. “But don’t expect much from Rustica and me.”

“Nah, you’ll do fine.” Ben glanced over his shoulder. “Actually, there’s one more thing I wanted to ask, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“You know the rumors about Saberstar?”

Bob frowned. “There are many rumors about Saberstar.”

“You know how they qualified for the championship, right? But right after their last fight, they swapped out with Gammagrade. Some people say their pilot needed a break, but other people say… you know.”

Bob’s expression darkened. “Sabotage.”

Marvin’s heart skipped a beat. There it was, the outspoken skeptic that Caroline had proclaimed. Now it was just a matter of finding out if that skepticism was genuine or a coverup.

“No one says it was sabotage,” Bob said. “At least not in public. Where did you hear this?”

“I… I know someone on Team Saberstar.”

“Ben!” Marvin warned.

“Who?” Bob asked.

Oh great. They had gone too far to back out now; they could only hope that Bob was trustworthy.

“Say Theo,” Marvin ordered.

“Theo,” Ben said.

Bob nodded slowly. “Do you believe it was sabotage?”

Marvin heard Ben swallow. Bob must have seen his hesitation, as he continued, “This isn’t a trick, I’ve had this theory for months now. Now, of course, I’m trusting you not to be the saboteur.” He smiled nervously. “You wouldn’t kill me in this holy sanctum, would you?”

Is he telling the truth? This could all be an elaborate trap to see who suspects them.

But would Team Rustica risk assassinating a boy who’d merely brought up sabotage? That amount of paranoia would accumulate a lot of bodies, and, being a private team, they probably weren’t too good at hiding those.

“Well, I dunno if I’m just delusional, but I’ve been really concerned lately,” Ben replied. “Something isn’t adding up. I think evidence of sabotage would bring some solace.”

That was smooth, Marvin thought.

Bob gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s not concrete evidence, but I’ll tell you what I know. Are you free next Monday evening?”

That was six days from now, the day after Mecha Realm’s ending ceremony.

“Why not now?” Ben asked.

“It’s a little taboo to talk about corruption during Mecha Realm.”

“Oh,” Ben said. “Yeah, sure.”

Bob held out his tablet. “I’ll message you later.”

Ben tapped his own tablet against Bob’s, and their contacts were exchanged.

“I really appreciate it,” Ben said.

“No problem,” Bob said. With that, he walked away.

Marvin wondered what had happened to Theo that would warrant this pilot’s pity. Team Saberstar’s programmer wasn’t dead, was he? No, if he had died, Bob would have offered his condolences.

Man, it’d be so much easier if we could contact my old teammates.

But Marvin could not risk endangering them.

“Ben, can you not bring up my team next time?” Marvin asked.

“Why? Did you not see how good that was?”

“We got lucky.”

“It was all part of my plan,” Ben declared. “Six days, Marvin. We’ll have solved your murder in six days. That’s gotta be a record.”

“We’ll just have a better lead,” Marvin argued.

“Fine, a strong lead in six days. That’s hella good, too.”

Marvin had to admit that he wouldn’t have thought of half the things Ben had said. That kind of social adeptness was quite enviable.

“Okay, fine,” Marvin conceded. “But don’t bring up my team again.”

“Is it that big of a deal?”

“Please.”

Ben sighed. “Alright.”

-----

For the next five days, Marvin, Ben, and Caroline watched Mecha Realm and reevaluated their strategy. They put Legionnaire on the back burner and resolved to only pursue Ishaan if he was easily accessible. Bob was by far their best lead.

“Why can’t we go to the police again?” Ben asked one night at dinner.

“The Manhunters control like half of the police,” Caroline explained.

“Why not go to another Sector then?” Ben asked. “Hell, why not just tell the Hosaka Roundtable?”

Caroline chuckled. “You don’t tell the government about a murder.”

“You said you told the police before you woke me up,” Marvin said. “A guy named Amir, right?”

“Oh yeah, he was the chief,” Caroline said. “He wasn’t having any of it, though.”

“Do you think he was a Manhunter?”

“Maybe.” Caroline shrugged as she finished her pasta. “It doesn’t really matter; he already hates me. Let’s try not to run into him.”

The week passed smoothly, with no encounters with Bob, Ishaan, Legionnaire, or the Manhunters. That allowed them to enjoy Mecha Realm to the fullest.

This year, the battleground was an Old North valley and its surrounding mountains. Some people were disappointed that there was no zero-gravity area, but all the verticality was still there. Some of the best mech-fights started at the peak of a mountain and ended with a beatdown in the river. One particular four-way squad battle even leveled the top half of a mountain, resulting in the hilarious deaths of two mechs who were hiding in caverns.

In the end, Ninth Gen won. Sparrow got second, and Oliveeater got third. In fourth, just shy of the podium, was Immortal Ignition. It was a fun bit of karma, but getting fourth place as a rookie was still incredibly impressive. Fifth place went to a relatively unknown mech called Nightrider. It looked very edgy.

The last hours of the tournament were dedicated to interviewing Grayson Wright, Sienna Lee, and Oliveeater’s pilot, Harry Hazar. Grayson thanked his family and team and went on a wholesome monologue about how fulfilling his piloting career had been. Sienna seemed quite happy with second place, and was grinning sheepishly when she said she needed to work harder. Harry Hazar recited a lasagna recipe and didn’t talk at all about the tournament.

Eleanor Hall, Immortal Ignition’s pilot, also got a few minutes of screen time, where she complained about “stupid weather systems” and insisted she would win next year.