"...idiot..."

Huh?

I did not know for how long the impression of spoken words had circled my mind from a distance, but that one broke through. With it came a strong smell. Someone was cleaning windows. It was awful. The smell was so strong that I spluttered to full wakefulness. "Imnotanidiot!"

"Steady there, Drift. Keep it gradual," someone said in a failed approximation of a soothing voice. It was Swipe, I realised. I also realised that I was lying in a recovery position, and my wrist hurt a lot.

"How long was I out? Is the game...?" I asked, feeling the alarm rise up within me like a boiler's pressure gauge.

"Barely a minute since you blacked out," Broth said, leaning over to hold a drink pouch by my mouth. "Here, I've added something to soothe the pain."

I looked at the pouch dubiously. "Will it make me drowsy or woozy or mentally slow at all?"

"Er, a bit. You shouldn't operate heavy machinery but you can still stand in front of the goal and block," Broth answered.

"Unacceptable," I said, shaking my head for emphasis. The motion did not make me feel dizzy or imbalanced in any way, I was glad to notice. My blackout had just been a temporary event from the shock. "I need to stay sharp." I searched for the raidsuit. It was standing ready not far away.

"I remembered the gesture you taught me to put it in timeout mode," Skids said, correctly guessing what would have been my next question. I'd made sure it would follow basic critical instructions from other members of the team in case I was unable. That preparation had turned out to be necessary, much to my dismay. "I'll have it cause general havok when the game resumes."

"But I need to..." I began. As I spoke I instinctively started the gesture for a diagnostic command, but didn't get further than the first attempted movement of a finger. "Ah!" I yelped at an embarrassingly high pitch.

Broth moved the drink directly in front of my lips. "Drink it. You'll feel better. You won't need to control anything for the rest of the game, because you can't do any of the gestures."

I stared down at my now useless right hand, then at my left which wasn't of any help in performing incantations either. "I..." The pain was immense. The need to dull it was almost irresistible. But I needed my mind at full speed even more. "Can't you put something on the wrist directly?"

The carer opened one of the many bags strapped onto ra's armour. "I can give you a cold pack, but it won't fit when you're armoured. And there's no way you're going back on the field without that wrist armoured."

"But..."

"Scaff's fixing it," Swipe said in answer to my objection.

"Then get that cold pack on me now!" I urged. "We can't have much time left."

Broth gently wrapped the flexible thick rectangle of coldness around my wrist, and I desperately held in a scream. "Is that better?" ra asked, cradling my arm and hand so I didn't have to support it myself.

"Yeah," I said breathlessly.

"You're not fooling anyone," Swipe said, looking down at me with gentle but serious concern. "You're a danger to everyone like this. Drink the painkiller. You'll be able to think better than this."

Scaff approached holding the roughly repaired halves of the right arm of my armour. It was composed of a slightly flexible material with thin, crisscrossing bands of metal embedded in it. There was a front piece and a back piece which interlocked lengthwise. The elbow was a more flexible pleated section. "Sorry to interrupt, Drift. I need to put this on you and reattach what I could salvage of the aetherics. The ball hit the glove part but it ripped out a lot of components from the arm."

Broth helped guide my arm into the hollow of one armour piece and Scaff lowered the other piece over it. The two halves stuck together magically, though Scaff added some thick adhesive table for extra surety.

"Can you stick the cold pack on outside the armour?"

"There's a problem with that," Scaff said. "The armour insulates in case someone tries using heat or cold against us. Speaking of heat, your cooling fan is working fine. Now, the glove is locked up so it will work as a splint, but I should tape your arm in place so you can't hurt yourself even more."

"No!" was my immediate protest. "I can move my arm, so I will."

Scaff gave me a look of dubious acceptance. "Your choice, but if you fall over you really shouldn't try catching yourself with your hand. And you should absolutely set your armour to prioritise occupant over blocking."

I studiously avoided looking at Skids, who seemed to be producing an angry growl which was almost too deep to hear.

"And take your sun-scorched painkiller already!" the impatient and concerned carer added. "No offense."

The pain in my wrist was a constant presence in my mind. The brief chill had barely helped. I knew I was incapable of performing anything but the most crude and rudimentary magical gestures with my fingers locked. Yelling or even ventrilling commands to Liberty would not be very effective and was not at all suited to hexing. I could try relaying hex work via a teammate, but that would be slow, prone to errors, and would tie up a useful player's attention. "Fine. I can't hex or do much to control the raidsuit. Skids can get it to reclaim control of the dropbeast but it'll be rather simple and not very helpful. Maybe you can get it to shut down the ultradangerope, but there's no chance of subverting it fully without my fingers unless Punnt is really good at data entry and can take exact dictation, fast."

"Sorry, not that kind of drone," Punnt said with a shudder at the thought. "I'm a heavy hauler like Skids was."

"I did more than just... Nevermind, just drink it Drift!"

"Even locking down enemy mascots is very good," Swipe put in encouragingly. "You don't need to do everything."

I opened my mouth for Broth to squeeze the medication between my lips. I'd barely finished swallowing when the timeout expired and the match resumed. A feeling of alien calm washed over me, barely reaching my wrist. The pain felt a little less sharp, and what remained did not seem so urgent.

"Prioritise occupant!" Skids yelled to me over the ventril, much too loud. I could hear sa even without the ventril, despite the roar of the crowd as the balls were released from the top of the chroma dome once more.

That was going to be a problem. "Yeah, about that..."

"Why didn't you have it on already? Idiot!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Then act smarter! After all the grief you gave me..." Skids briefly cut off to focus on catching our ball, diving between a couple of Blue Lightning defenders, wildly shooting a few paintballs with sa's non-dominant hand, and kicking the ball over to Swipe. "I'm trying to prove that you can trust me to look after my safety, so can't you meet me halfway and look after your own?"

"Er..." I noticed the raidsuit was getting too much attention from some heavily armed History Makers, and was about to lumber too close to the target cow for my comfort. "Direct the raidsuit to head through Dreaming Eye's sector, would you?"

"For the 'rope?"

"Nah, to avoid the cow."

"Got it," Skids reported after making the gestures to alter the route. That was something relatively simple. Anyone could do that. Improving a mascot's walking pattern or instructing it how to interact with balls or foes was a far more complex matter. "Well?"

"If I'd thought I was in danger I would have switched back to prioritise occupant," I said earnestly, after having had a few moments to consider my past choices and priorities. "That attack caught me off guard."

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The noise from the crowd swelled, and a commentator announced the unexpected reason. Dead Drop had made a very fast offensive push into Blue Lightning's sector as soon as the timeout ended, and had scored the team's first point. I supposed it was revenge against a point Blue Lightning had scored while the dropbeast was immobile. I'd missed that as I'd been very preoccupied with my hexing. Hearing that Dead Drop had scored wasn't good news, but it didn't bother me significantly. We'd scored our first point before them, and Demonstration Domination remained on zero.

I watched and listened as my team tried taking advantage of Dead Drop's weak defences to score a point on our own. Punnt was caught in a tangle by the History Makers, allowing the dropbeast to get back in position. Swipe called off the attack and we tried pressuring Dreaming Eye a little instead.

In an apparent lull in the frenetic action, Skids resumed our conversation. "You should have been on guard," sa said, sounding disappointed in me. "Hexen was pretty mad at you. And I warned you something was up!"

My friend was right. "Yeah, you did. I should have taken Hexen more serio—"

An ear-piercing bellow shattered my calm. The sound wasn't merely loud. It was oppressive. Players across the field halted thall's movements and tried using thall's hands or arms to muffle the sound, but it didn't make much difference. The sound was already penetrating our helmets. Only six players were spared the debilitating effects of the ongoing soundwave. Although the encompassing throb of demonic noise seemed to be echoing from all directions equally, the source was obvious. Every member of Demonstration Domination had remained fully capable and thall were making the most of the opportunity thall's mascot had created.

Every team attempted to mount a defence, but voice communication was impossible. Cogent thought was not much easier, and when multiple players fell over I realised that balance was severely hampered. I stood in place, remembering not to risk falling. Our armour had some clever tricks hexed into it but I hadn't solved the issue of automatic balance. If the team continued competing, I'd need to spend a few weeks working on that with Scaff.

Larry Sa kicked an easy goal for DemDom into Dead Drop's goal, bypassing the disoriented goalkeeper Marro Ra. Sa easily regained control of the ball and passed it back to Stray Dro, who kicked it to Strob Ra in DemDom's goal for reactivation.

The big red bounder leapt at the target cow while Bolt approached behind it with its frills sizzling with aether. The reptilian demon shot forward to apply its lightning attack to the source of the painful sound, and to my utter shock it actually worked. The following second of silence seemed louder still, but it was quickly forgotten as players found thall's wits and resumed the struggle.

I'd tried not to be distracted by the commentary, but with the noise levels back to normal I couldn't help but listen to the words from above. "I"m sure everyone's relieved that's ov— Oh! Blue Lightning executed a perfect surprise attack against Dreaming Eye, right as team Eye did the same to Dead Drop! Looks like not everyone was completely helpless duri—"

That was when the target cow recovered from the lightning attack and resumed bellowing.

I winced, as much for everyone else's pain and suffering as my own. With a little help from the painkiller and the distraction of the immense pain in my broken wrist, the sound didn't affect me as much as it might have. That didn't make me feel any more useful on the field. I couldn't communicate with anyone or anything, and if I had to move to block a shot at our goal I was likely to fall on my face. If only I could get the raidsuit to the bellowing cow and shut it down.

I had to at least make an attempt at getting through to my team. "Can anyone hear me? We need to shut it down with the raidsuit!"

One of the History Makers tried a direct attack on the target cow. I winced as I watched it kick them into the air, knocking down a couple of other players who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

None of Cheesy Goodness were looking my way except Broth. Shouting hadn't achieved anything and I couldn't gesture, which left me short on communication options. I could try pointing with my foot, but pointing at the target cow wouldn't tell Broth anything ra didn't know. Instead I risked toppling over to shake my foot at the raidsuit. Conveniently we had a clear line of sight to it, so that was sufficiently unambiguous. I turned back to watch Broth. Jur pointed to the raidsuit and I nodded. With that clear, I foot-pointed at the target cow.

I'd let myself feel some hope, but it all flowed away when Broth shook ra's head and shrugged dramatically. I took that to mean that ra didn't remember exactly how to do what I needed done. That was a great pity, but it wasn't surprising. I'd only run through the explanation once as I hadn't anticipated this situation. My expectation had been that even if I was injured, as long as the game was in progress I would be able to communicate one way or another.

Too much was going on for me to feel properly frustrated. The muted throb of my wrist was sucking my attention down, while the constant noise was fraying the edges. The painkiller made everything feel distant, like I was looking at myself from around a corner. Perhaps two corners. Mage corners were different to what I had grown up with.

Broth and I watched as the other players did thall's best against DemDom. The team were outfitted in armour decorated with large irregular regions of white and brown, matching the bovine demon mascot. The metallic accoutrements were a golden colour, as were the various greebly bits that studded the demon. It had not taken thall long to reactivate the similarly patterned ball and drive it into the History Makers' goal. Strob Ra was briefly delayed by the red bounder, but not enough to matter.

Dead Drop managed to rally some semblance of effectiveness, which thall immediately used against us. While the dropbeast kept the feeble opposition at bay, a sizable attack force got well into range. Snaps Dro kicked the bone-decorated ball right at my legs. It rebounded without altering my stability. Crick Sa was in place to address the rebound and immediately kicked it back, directly on a course to enter our goal. My armour automatically lunged into the ball's path, blocking it with my body. The attempt was successful, but the ball bounced straight back to Crick. Sa kicked it over my body as I landed prone, and it sailed right over Broth too. Broth was behind me and to my right, and ra had also lunged into a blocking position. That was another weakness of my hex work in the armour. It did not account for multiple teammates trying to block one shot and being out of place for a second shot.

That was Dead Drop's second point, leaving us in last place.

It was irksome to see Dead Drop ahead of us, but on the bright side being in last place made us the smallest target for violence. That was a small comfort when continuous universal violence was being done to our ears by DemDom's mascot. As I watched my team stagger around the field while the means of our deliverance ineffectually chased the slithering ultradangerope, my frustration grew stronger than the painkiller. It hurt to know that there was a solution available but no one thought to try it or didn't remember how. I felt trapped, caged, with no way to reach beyond the bars. It was a desperate, familiar feeling.

Last time I'd been locked in a cage, I'd somehow reached out without knowing I was doing it. When Skids had been in danger during our previous chroma game, I'd unintentionally reached out to sa's armour and adjusted the safety settings. Could I do that again, intentionally?

The thought of safety settings reminded me that mine were still set to prioritise goalkeeping above my own safety. While I agreed in principle with Skids's urgent reminder that I should change it, I was currently physically unable to do that. But perhaps I could do it non-physically?

I almost recoiled from the thought. All my life I had been taught that unseen forces were evil, forbidden and belonged to the darkness. I now had some basic understanding of magic and saw that even though it was invisible it still followed mathematically quantifiable physical rules. Invoking control of something solely by my own mind and willpower was a huge step beyond that. This was something that even mages could not begin to explain. This concept was an even better fit for the clerics' definition of evil than magic itself. I tried to comfort myself with the reminder that I had done this before. Even more crucially, the previous instances had not brought down great pain or punishment on my head or upon my community. Skids had been a bit mad at me for my interference, but that was due to my lack of trust rather than the method I'd used. Whatever this was, it didn't seem to be inherently malicious, immoral, or destructive.

Outside my bubble of doubt and frustration, Demonstration Domination had continued to perform as the name suggested. Poise Jur was carrying out an easy job as goalkeeper while the rest of the team scored against Blue Lightning and a second time against Dead Drop. The other teams had done the best that they were able, which amounted to Blue Lightning scoring against the History Makers. That put team Blue at five points, needing only to score against DemDom to get the five point bonus. That was currently very unlikely. DemDom were only a single point behind, and needed to score against both us and Dreaming Eye to achieve the bonus. That was much more achievable and would put thall in place to take the win. Ending the game would be a tricky matter though, as no team had been scored on by more than three other teams, and it required five to knock a team out.

I refused to let a team win by such a cheap tactic as very loud noise. Shoving aside the absurdity of my belief that I could do magic with my mind, I exerted my will entirely on doing that.

My helmet beeped. Even though I knew what the beeps meant, I couldn't quite believe it at first. It seemed more likely that I'd imagined the sound of the safety settings adjusting to conform to my mere will. But I'd heard it. It had really happened. Now it was time for the real test. I had to tell the raidsuit to attach my scryer to the target cow. Thinking those words really hard in its direction wouldn't be enough. I knew I had to be more specific and technical than that. Drawing on my knowledge of the raidsuit's design and the magical signals it had been hexed to respond to, I carefully composed my thoughts. Dwelling on the totality of the concept, I directed it to the raidsuit.

My helmet beeped in affirmation. The raidsuit had received new orders. I'd done it. Somehow, just by thinking hard, I'd invoked magic. I stared open-mouthed at the sight of the raidsuit reaching for the target cow's head. This changed everything. And it explained the mysterious leap in progress of Project Hexplexer. Everything I'd needed to create the hex had been in my head. I still didn't know how any of this was possible, but since this was possible, it was also possible that I'd fulfilled my desire to complete the tedious but deterministic process in my sleep.

I realised I was grinning goofily as I considered the possibilities. Before my head could drift too far into the clouds, reality reasserted itself. The cow demon head-butted the raidsuit away, hard enough that it skidded back about a meter on its behind. It seemed that actually changing everything was not so simple. That was fine, I realised. The raidsuit needed help and I knew how to quickly recruit some. It was time to snatch back the dropbeast.

That was when Dead Drop's ball sailed past my head and into the very edge of our goal. That was the skeletal team's second point against us. I promised myself it would be the last. Dead Drop were going down.