That’s it? How can that be it? Damn it, James, what the hell happened up there?
Vincent’s beaten and bloody body couldn’t move very quickly, but still he pushed himself to run. Three minutes. That was how long he was supposed to survive in the arena with the most powerful Supervillain in NTC. Glancing back, he saw that Dollar Bill hadn’t even moved yet; he was just watching Vincent’s desperate scramble and laughing, his diamond and ruby body sparkling in the spotlights.
Vincent’s gaze swept desperately around the arena, looking for anything that could help keep him alive. The crude handrails around the pit were nearly collapsing inward as the flood of gang members pushed up against it for a better view of the spectacle. The once flat terrain beneath his feet was now a field of uneven piles of earth from Underdog’s attacks. The smell of blood was fresh in the air, and the remains of Vincent’s eight defeated opponents had been scattered everywhere.
There was nothing that seemed to offer any real advantage over a man made of diamonds, possibly a century old, and definitely beyond even Robert’s Reactive rank. Vincent’s eye did catch something of note, however, as a previously unknown rectangular object, which was hanging from the ceiling in the center of the arena, had been revealed to be a large digital clock. It flashed in green and red, 2:52. At least I’m not relying on Dollar Bill to count, he thought.
Vincent had reached the farthest point in the arena opposite his opponent, and finally he turned around. The rusty spikes that covered the walls were uncomfortably close, and he tried to keep a relatively safe distance from them as he inspected his unhurried adversary. Despite his infamy and the general fear of his strength, Dollar Bill’s powers weren’t well known–or at least the many gang members of NTC knew not to speak of them. Vincent didn’t know how to prepare, and so he tried to use the time he’d gained to inspect his newly manifested ability.
Ability: Apparition
Rank: Initiate 1
Mastery: Effects of Mastery unknown.
Description: The Specter can create–
Vincent dove to the side in panic as dozens of gleaming projectiles were fired at him, embedding themselves in the arena wall like bullets. He picked himself off the ground and looked at Dollar Bill, who was shaking his head with disapproval. “Are you ignoring me, Young Master Villari? I was trying to be sporting, but clearly you need to be reminded to take this seriously.”
He lifted his arm again, palm open, and the spotlight reflected off of the gems as they fired from his arm like a machine gun. Vincent scrambled as quickly as he could, running along the outside of the arena as the diamond-bullets tore through everything behind him. Over the seemingly endless impacts he could hear the crowd laughing. It was obvious to everyone that Dollar Bill was playing with him.
Abruptly the bullets ceased, and Vincent slid to a stop, panting. Glancing up he saw the clock remarkably still read 2:29, though it had felt like he’d run for hours. Dollar Bill was taking a page from Current’s book, thankfully, arms raised to absorb the adulation of the assembled gangs. Again Vincent pulled up his new skill interface, trying to focus only on the pertinent information.
Description: The Specter can create copies of themself made of pure energy. These ‘Apparitions’ will–
Good enough, Vincent thought as another hail of diamond bullets exploded at his feet. He ran once more, this time feeling the projectiles crashing into his spectral armor. Dollar Bill was still toying with him, but clearly raising the stakes. Knowing he needed any advantage he could get, and that his Phantasmal arms were nowhere near long enough to be of use, Vincent tried his new ability. Apparition!
A green hued, translucent copy of himself seemed to burst from him, and the bullets ceased as everyone took a moment to stare in surprise. Vincent slid to a stop, and briefly examined his creation. It looked much like his spectral arms, though the portions appeared to be a true reflection of Vincent’s own, rather than the malleable Phantasms. The details weren’t easy to make out in the blurry form, but it did seem to be his mirror image.
Vincent was considering how to command the strange projection when its head suddenly turned in Dollar Bill’s direction, seemingly of its own accord. The Villain watched in confusion and curiosity as the green figure charged at him fearlessly. When it was halfway across the arena he began firing diamond bullets at it, but they passed through the Apparition’s body with seemingly no effect.
In moments it was upon him, and began to attack with abandon–using Vincent’s own martial abilities. It punched and kicked relentlessly, showing none of the weariness that permeated Vincent’s true body. Dollar Bill blocked and dodged at first, but after the first strike made it through and collided with his gemstone jaw, he ceased his defense and let out another roaring laugh.
“What the hell is this thing, Villari?” he said as the Specter impotently hammered at the man with no visible effect. Good question, Vincent though, once again trying to pull up the interface.
Description: The Specter can create copies of themself made of pure energy. These ‘Apparitions’ will enact the will of the Specter until dismissed, or their energy reserves are expended. In combat, Apparitions will mimic the Specter’s fighting style–
Vincent’s eyes widened as the nature of the battle shifted dramatically. He threw himself backward with all his enhanced strength as a wave of diamond and rubies crashed into the spot he’d just been standing. He rolled and slid in the filthy sand and dirt, then managed to look up just in time to see the mass of gemstones swirl and gather back into the familiar form of Dollar Bill, only a few strides away. The patterns of diamond and ruby were different this time, with a larger mass of red in his sparkling face, making the man look furious in a cartoonish way.
“You’re not the only one with tricks, Villari. You’ll find that my own are a touch more deadly, however.” Dollar Bill was grinning down at him, and Vincent met his eyes–pointedly met his eyes, as the underwear had very much not followed the man as he reformed his body. I suppose undressing was less theatrics and more practicality, Vincent considered as he regained his feet.
“Your tricks do seem to be more deadly, but mine are still irritating,” Vincent countered, and Dollar Bill shrugged in confusion. Clearly the retort seemed weak, but made sense as the Apparition jumped onto the Villain’s back, wrapping an arm around his neck, and legs around his waist, before it resumed its ineffectual strikes.
Vincent wasted no time as he resumed his mad dash away from the struggling pair. Glancing at the clock he felt some small relief, it read 1:48. This could work, he thought, looking back to see Dollar Bill stomping uselessly on the Apparition which he’d thrown to the ground. Amusingly, it appeared to be as unbothered by the gang leader’s attacks as he was of its own persistent strikes.
Stopping again to prepare for another attack, Vincent considered what he’d managed to read from the skill description: ‘copies’. Not copy. He grinned, and used a little more of his flagging power. Apparition! Another translucent Vincent Villari burst from him, and immediately sprinted back toward Dollar Bill. His arm was raised to fire more diamond bullets, but he began cursing loudly.
“What kind of nonsense is this, Villari?” he raged as the second specter began to swing wildly at the seemingly indestructible Villain. Dollar Bill tried to ignore it, which only allowed the first to once again leap up to grip the man’s exposed neck. The second Apparition followed suit, tackling the diamond man around his middle.
Unsurprisingly, the gang leader shattered back into a pile of gems that somehow seemed to possess greater mass than the man himself. A moment later, the glittering wave was heading straight for Vincent, who’d been expecting exactly that. His weak and injured legs protested when he leapt high into the air, but it worked–this time–as the wave passed right beneath him, crashing into the arena wall.
The spikes didn’t seem to bother Dollar Bill as the man quickly reformed his body, but Vincent allowed himself a wicked grin as the gang leader was met with another Apparition, who immediately resumed the attack. The Villain roared in frustration as he pushed past the specter, only for the other two to simultaneously slam into him from behind, knocking the man to the ground.
Vincent hobbled away as his Apparitions clung to his pursuer. Glancing back he saw that the newest conjuration was now hanging from the man’s left leg, slowing him down as Dollar Bill tried to aim at Vincent with an outstretched palm once again. I think…I think I can do one more, Apparition! A final copy was leaping onto the Villain’s arm a moment later.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Vincent was now moving at little more than a shuffle through the arena, ignoring the screams of fury behind him. Originally he’d planned to use his Phantasmal arms to grab spectators from the stands and hurl them at Dollar Bill, but he’d discovered that he lacked the power to use both of his abilities at once. He’d realized that unfortunate truth when he noticed his armor–a trick of his Phantasmal ability–had faded away. That left retreat as his only real tactic, his four copies providing what distraction they could. The clock read 1:09.
Vincent didn’t allow himself to grow too hopeful. He knew an unpleasant truth: most supers had at least three powers, and Dollar Bill appeared to have only used two. Risking another look back, Vincent was pleased to see that his spectral copies had shifted tactics, and were now trying to prevent their target from seeing by pulling at his head, and savagely gouging at his implausibly diamond eyes. The Villain was fuming and hurling the copies away from himself as quickly as he could.
Vincent once again tried to finish reading the skill’s description, wondering how long the Apparitions could remain summoned.
Description: The Specter can create copies of themself made of pure energy. ‘These Apparitions’ will enact the will of the Specter until dismissed, or their energy reserves are expended. In combat, Apparitions will mimic the Specter’s fighting style, while attempting to grapple any target containing Asteroid-Radiation. Apparitions will drain this energy until–
This time Vincent expected the interruption, as Dollar Bill had never allowed him more than a few moments of peace. He was already starting his exhausted, hobbling retreat when a tentacle of ruby and diamond nearly lanced right through him, a wicked, bladed tip digging deeply into the arena wall. Vincent let himself fall to the ground as two more tentacles followed the first, before snaking back to Dollar Bill.
Looking at the man in shock, Vincent saw that his opponent was clearly done with the cat and mouse. Three of his copies were wrapped in glittering tentacles that had emerged from Dollar Bill’s back, struggling ceaselessly as they were suspended a dozen feet in the air, the final copy still clinging pointlessly to the man’s neck. The Villain was marching toward Vincent, fury plain on his shining features.
“You’ve made an annoying spectacle of yourself, Villari, but this is over.” They both glanced up at the clock as the gang leader approached, and Vincent’s faint hopes seemed to die as he saw what it read, 0:24. Dollar Bill grinned, and another tentacle burst from his chest, the end a thin, jagged blade of ruby. It struck like lightning, impaling Vincent’s leg, and staking him to the ground.
He screamed at the sudden agony, and at the simple truth it imparted: no more running. Dollar Bill was clearly savoring the moment, ignoring the ticking clock as he came closer. With certain death now a dozen paces away, Vincent did the only thing left to do, and pulled up the skill description, skipping to the end.
…Apparitions will mimic the Specter’s fighting style, while attempting to grapple any target containing Asteroid-Radiation. Apparitions will drain this energy until they reach maximum capacity, at which point they will–
“Explode,” Vincent whispered as his eyes widened. He looked up at the copies, realizing that each appeared far more solid and bright than they had when first created. They were saturated with Gamma, none more so than the one clinging directly to Dollar Bill’s neck, which seemed to be vibrating ominously. Dollar Bill had stopped in his tracks, his head cocked to one side.
“Did you say explo–” the first explosion came from a copy that was suspended in the air–likely the original that Vincent had created. A flash of green light and a sound so loud that Vincent’s eardrums seemed to burst was followed by a wave of green energy erupting outward in an expanding sphere. When it came in contact with the second Apparition, that one ignited as well, the third joining a second later.
Dollar Bill was thrown sideways toward the nearby wall as Vincent flattened himself against the ground, covering his head as best he could against the devastation spreading over the arena. The fourth explosion was bigger than the rest, and Vincent grit his teeth as dozens of diamond and ruby meteors flew in every direction. The Apparition's final effect might have given Vincent a chance to survive, but they’d also turned Dollar Bill into a dirty bomb, a living mass of gemstones turned into deadly shrapnel.
Screams echoed through the arena as a section of the wall was destroyed. Some gang members fell forward, while far more were pelted with shards of the gang leader’s body, leaving them writhing in agony. Vincent hesitantly looked up as a strange alarm just barely made itself heard over the ringing in his ears. The clock had reached zero.
Inspecting his body, Vincent found that he’d done better than many others in the arena. The first explosion had struck him, feeling like a wall of burning force, but it had also pushed Dollar Bill far enough away that the thousands of shards of his opponent had mostly missed him. He was still bleeding from the wound in his leg, and he could feel stabbing pain all over his body where the gems were embedded in his flesh, but he was alive.
Vincent slowly managed to regain his feet, using strips of his ruined shirt as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding from his leg, then looked around. Sand and dust had been kicked into the air by the numerous explosions, but it was gently settling, revealing an arena very much changed from only moments before.
Many of the gang members had apparently retreated, leaving the stands half-empty. At least twenty more of them lay unmoving on the arena floor, their bodies a mess of glittering gems. Half of the lights had been shattered as well, leaving much of the Pit in darkness, and Vincent had to squint to see the rectangular box dangling from frayed wires. The clock was blinking 0:00, and Vincent allowed himself a moment to savor that image, forgetting his pain for a brief second.
The reality of the situation crept back in almost immediately, and Vincent forced himself to consider what came next. Would the remaining gangs accept his victory? Would they stop him from leaving? Would they hold these new deaths against him? He didn’t know what to expect, so assuming the worst, he began hobbling toward the ruined section of the stands, looking for some kind of escape.
Fresh pain suddenly tore through him, and he was forced to stop and lean against the wall. He watched with curiosity as the glittering gems embedded in the brick and concrete started to vibrate, before bursting outward all at once. The same happened to the ones stuck in Vincent’s body, explaining his pain as diamonds and rubies flowed back into a pile in the center of the arena. Laughter seemed to echo from all around him.
Dollar Bill’s glittering body reformed in moments, though he was now stained with blood, Vincent’s and the gang members that lay in forgotten heaps everywhere. The Villain was grinning his salesman’s smile as he strode over to Vincent, who lacked the strength to even assume a defensive posture.
Dollar Bill gripped his left hand, and raised it above them both. “Vincent Villari, Champion of Veridicus has survived the Trial of the Pit!” he called loudly. No one cheered, or even booed. That didn’t seem to disappoint the gang leader, who released Vincent’s hand to clap his own rapidly. At last he came very close and spoke so that only they could hear.
“Well done, Young Master. You’ve bought yourself some time. See that we don’t need to do this again, understood?” Vincent nodded, cringing a little and moving backward. Dollar Bill raised a glittering eyebrow. “What? You won, where’s the celebration?”
Vincent sighed, “You’re very close, very bloody…and very naked.” Dollar Bill let out a cackle, slapped Vincent painfully on the back, then strolled away, unconcerned.
***
Robert Haufman considered himself to be a very patient person. He’d spent years focusing on acquiring the kind of power he’d need, and then months learning to control that wild, raging strength. Even then, he hadn’t rushed off to what would surely have been a losing battle. He may be called a Berserker, but he wouldn’t allow that name to define him.
Still, it had been several hours now since little Vincent had disappeared down the crudely carved stairwell in the basement of Bill’s headquarters, and Robert was starting to grow aggravated. He stepped away from the concrete wall he’d been quietly leaning on and stretched his massive frame. Immediately the two dozen guards readied their weapons, and Maria took on some kind of fighting stance.
Robert barely registered this as he looked around the dark basement. It was relatively empty, except for a small fleet of old cars that the gang leader apparently collected. There wasn’t even any food, and Robert got very hungry these days, despite the pulsing core of energy inside him that reduced that need. Finally he let out a sigh, and let his gaze sweep past the shaking gang members, to fall on Maria.
“I think I have to kill some of you at this point,” he said matter of factly, “don’t you think?”
Maria looked around, somehow confused by the simple question. “Um, no, I don’t think so? We told you it would take a while. If it was fast that would mean Villari is already dead. It’s slow because he’s winning, or the boss would already be back.”
Robert considered. That made sense. Still though… “I should probably just kill a few of you, to be safe.”
“Oh to hell with this!” One of the gang members in the back said suddenly, then dropped his rifle on the ground and ran from the room. Several others looked at one another, clearly considering the same idea.
Maria sighed, “Well you can kill that coward, I won’t even try to stop you.”
“That guy? You should promote him, he’s obviously the smartest person you have. The rest of you chose to stay and die.” This time a weapon actually went off, and Maria quickly moved to disarm the one who’d lost control.
Robert looked down where the bullet had struck his left side. Not even a hole in his suit. He loved his second ability; it saved him so much clothing. “Okay,” he declared, moving away from the wall, “I’ll just kill five, I think that’s fair.”
“Hold on, Robert,” said a weak voice from behind him, and Robert let out a relieved breath when he saw Vincent’s bloody face emerging from the stairwell. He looked bad. Not as bad as when he’d faced Eraser, but still, Robert felt his fury building, and his control slipping.
“How many then, Vincent?” he asked, the heat rising inside him.
“None today, thank you Robert,” his small friend answered, and surprisingly the rage began to subside. “We did what we set out to do, and we bought the time we needed. Let’s go home.”
Robert gave the group of relieved gang members one last glare. “Are you sure, Vincent? It sends a bad message if they can do this to you and not lose any of their own.”
Vincent smiled, pulling his black coat closed over his blood-soaked clothes. “There’s a few dozen bodies downstairs that send a clear enough message, and we have work to do. There are plenty of gangs left in this city that need to learn the name Veridicus.”