image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/e0613196-d700-4144-9da8-4b50cb21e2bf/0_3.png]
Inside her cabin, Brigid was training, chaining sword attacks. From the two classes her armor offered, Brigid had switched to Graceblade. It made her speed and precision unrivaled.
Such exercises, katas, as the locals called them, helped put her mind at ease. Mere minutes were left until the Talent Show finale, where she was to confront Vincent Valaška alone. That was the format: the teams’ captains going against each other.
Somebody knocked at the door.
“Enter,” she called, keeping her sword at the ready. One could never be ready enough with a traitor such as Vincent Valaška.
“Good evening,” the man said. “My name is Karl Alt—”
“I know who you are,” Brigid said. “What do you want?”
“To warn you. You are planning to challenge Vincent to a duel or ambush him. He is aware of your plans. If you go forward with it, you’ll lose.”
“I won’t lose,” Brigid glared back at him. “Tonight, Vicent Valaška will bite the dust.”
“Vincent asked me to tell you these words exactly: Forget about it. If not, he’ll break you. You’ll feel your entrails boiling, will cry, crawl on the floor, and wish you’d be dead.”
“Earthlings have a saying: It’s not over until the fat lady sings. Good evening,” Brigid added, signaling the meeting was over.
Shrugging, the man left, and she returned to her exercises. Her mind, however, was not at ease. Could her grandmother’s killer have seen through her plans for real? And if so, did he have a counter? No! She shook her head. Her ambush was perfect.
Another knock at the door broke her concentration again. There were less than five minutes before her moment. “What is it now?” she yelled.
Two elderly persons entered the room, a man and a woman. The woman wore glasses, and the man had a cane and was slightly limping.
“Brigid!” the woman opened her arms for a hug.
“Who are you,” Brigid stepped back, pointing her sword forward, ready to fight if necessary.
"I'm Kiara, honey. Your grand grandmother."
"I'm Hubris, your grand grandfather,” the man said.
The words made Brigid freeze, and before she could react, the woman stepped forward, catching her in her clasp, followed by the man. The sword fell from her hand, clinking on the wooden floor.
“We’re so happy to see you!” Kiara said, fondling the girl’s cheeks. “You’re so beautiful!”
“We’ve followed your progress,” Hubris said. “Is it true you’ve been asked to play Joan of Arc in a Hollywood movie?”
“A Bollywood one,” she said automatically, still stunned. “I thought you were—”
“Dead? We were stuck in our pod,” Kiara said, “but got out a week ago… We were in very bad shape… Then, Vincent brought us here. I got my sight restored, and Hubris got a new hip… this world is wonderful.”
“Sweetheart, Vincent is not your enemy,” Hubris said. “Don’t blame him for your grandmother’s choices.”
“He has to pay!” Brigid said, pushing herself away from them. “He used trickery against me. It’s time I repay him the favor.”
“We were Summoned from this world over a thousand years ago,” Kiara said. “I remember it like it was yesterday. We were running from the Vikings, your grandmother in my arms. She was such a sweet child… All smiles and happiness. Then, she grew and pursued greatness, building herself an empire… And died because of it… For me, she’s not the Clockwork Queen… All I remember is the sweet toddler playing with marbles and her teddy bear… Please don’t throw away your life like she did!”
As she said that, Hubris produced the objects, caressing the worn teddy bear’s head. Her eyes flooded with tears, and Brigid suddenly understood. This was Vincent’s ambush, the one she’d been warned against. The attack meant to boil her innards, make her curl in a ball, and cry. And she would have done exactly that if not for the presenter.
“It’s your turn.”
She ran out, leaving her weapon behind, reducing her armor into a bracelet, and then erupting on the scene. An enthusiastic row of applauses met her.
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“Hello, Brigid,” the blonde woman from the international jury said. “Are you ready for the big finale?”
“I am,” she said, trying to control her tears. “This is the moment I waited for. Tonight, I will take my revenge on the man who broke my heart. Vincent Valaška.”
“Err… and how are you—’
“For tonight’s performance, I will sing!”
----------------------------------------
Vincent has performed a training number, making Sven, Vorrak, and Cupcakes do all sorts of funny and silly things. He was pretty confident in his chances. Animals were cute, everybody liked them. The win was all but sure. The problem was the ambush Brigid had planned, one she pretended Vincent wouldn’t see coming.
“She has no weapon,” Sven pointed at the young woman who had erupted on the scene. The spider was the one who heard Brigid bragging to her team.
“Maybe she has a hidden knife…” Vincent frowned. “The best moment to attack would be when we’re both called to the stage and the public asked to vote.”
“Son,” Karl touched his arm. “This is bad…”
Instead of the challenge to a public duel he expected, Brigid had proclaimed: “I will sing!”
“Oh no!” Vincent gasped. “She’s not after killing me… She’s after the money!”
“She can’t be good, can she?” Sven asked, frowning with all his eyes.
“Yeah,” Vincent nodded. “Princesses are not into singing, are they?” Then Brigid started. “Fuck… she’s good!” Vincent facepalmed.
“And pretty,” Karl pointed. “And tearful… and what she said makes you look like a jerk.”
“I did nothing!” Vincent complained, feeling the prize slide through his fingers.
“There’s still the consolation prize,” Irene said, fondling his biceps. “One million… it’s not so bad.”
“I wanted to buy a mansion for us,” he simpered.
Five minutes later, he was called to join Brigid on stage. The blonde judge raised and announced. “The voting will begin in three… two… one…”
“Wait!” Vincent blurted. “I have something to say!”
Somebody, probably a producer, spoke into the blonde’s headset because she growled and gestured at him to continue.
“I beg everyone, vote for her!” Vincent said, kneading his hands. “Brigid is right. I don’t deserve the prize. She used only her talent while I cheated. I used advanced tech developed by my wife’s foundation and start-up company we own together. We’ll go public on Monday."
“Who cares about tech? Confess what you did to me!” Brigid roared, stepping toward him, her palm raised for a slap.
“I confess!” Vincent yelled, backstepping, his hands raised in the air. “I cheated. I sucker punched Brigid Gearhart during a fight, and if I wouldn’t have done it, she’d won!”
“Yes! You all heard him, right?” Brigid shouted, looking at the cameras. “He cheated. I would have won under normal conditions!”
“Wait! You two were not… together?” the blonde gasped. “All this was for a… fight? I thought he dumped you…”
“What? You thought I was involved with this peasant?” Brigid creased her nose. “I’d rather be dead!”
Backstage, Karl was hyperventilating, maybe because the plan to go public was supposed to be kept a secret. Vincent winked at him. A talent show with millions of followers was better publicity than a press conference.
Let’s see how the public will vote now that your soppy story is destroyed, you stuck-up princess! Vincent sneered. Take some reverse psychology!
The live public was delirious, shouting and asking questions. The judge blurted something about opening the vote, then returned to her table. The ruckus held all five minutes the voting was supposed to happen. Another jury member waved his hands to ask for silence, speaking with pauses, visibly exhausted emotionally.
“Ladies and gentlemen… the vote has concluded… The producers are sending a new presenter to… announce the results.”
Advancing with a quick stride, a robot advanced on stage. It was the one used by Bee and Bella to host the AI personalities formerly living in Sven. Enhanced with the materials Vincent brought from the Realm, it looked like a pretty cyborg girl.
“Hi!” the robot chirped, waving her hand. “I’m one of the foundation’s projects Vincent spoke about. I will start with a personal announcement: We’re grateful to the International League for Leadership, Unity, Mentoring Initiative, Narrative Advocacy, and Talent Integration for the chance and opportunity of a normal life.
“Multiple AIs coexist in this body. We look forward to exploring the Solar System and helping humanity thrive. Without further ado… the voting has an unexpected result… It’s a perfect equality. The producers have contacted the sponsors, who agreed that such fine performances deserve reward. Both teams will receive the full prize.”
The robot bowed and left while Brigid’s team rushed onto the scene, taking her over their shoulders and cheering joyfully. Vincent felt a pang of jealousy in his heart. He wished his team would love him as much. Cupcakes was in only because he offered her treats afterward. Lila and Sven had their own agenda: to be invited to dance and DJ in clubs. Barbara had been a one-time-only apparition. The only person who put all his soul into the project, except for Vincent, was Vorrak. He called the warg out of his shadow and patted his head.
Vincent was presented with a giant check, then waved to the public and retired. They left the hall and exited through the rear entrance. A police car, lights on, was waiting for them.
“Karl Altenschloss?” a policewoman approached. “Please come with us.”
“W-why?” Karl feigned surprise.
“It’s about your two elder sons… They were kidnapped, but they’re OK.”
“Oh, my God!” Karl trembled. “Are they safe?”
“They were checked to a hospital for a routine examination, but all seems right. Please, sir, get into the car.”
“Of course, officer, of course,” Karl rushed to say, following the policewoman.
“I’ll go with Papa. See you at the hotel!” Irene blurted. “Oh, my God, Oh, my God! I hope my brothers are all right!”
“And the Oscar goes to…” Vincent whispered.
“Vincent Valaška,” the robot said. “Nice act, back there. You made Brigid look like a bitch. A master strategist in the making.”
“Yeah… I couldn’t let her steal my hard-worked money, cheating with a mike and some tears,” Vincent growled.
“You do realize you’re a billionaire, right?”
“Sorry?”
“There’s a thing called pre-IPO. As soon as you went live on TV, orders flowed. The first to invest were the producers. Your worth is now about ten billion.”
“Goodness!” Vincent hiccuped, supporting himself on a lamppost.
“And for the record, you won, but only with a hundred votes more. It was within the margin of error, and the producers chose to avoid possible lawsuits.”
“All considered, things went pretty smooth,” Lila said.
“I love you,” he said. He just felt happy and in the mood to say such things.
“I love you too,” she grabbed his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Let’s take the back streets, I see paparazzi.”