Hudson threw up a block and took George’s punch on his left forearm; he didn’t even have time to regret not equipping the vambraces and greaves uselessly packed into his rucksack. The force of the blow was extreme, and the bones in his forearm creaked and then snapped. The pain had barely registered before a sharp kick to his chest sent him flying through the air to land on his back.

He rolled to his feet, cradling his broken left forearm. Clara exchanged blows with George; his right fist was still covered in that strange, silvery glow reminiscent of the way in which maseki shined, or the way that his pickaxe had shined yesterday. Clara did not try to block any of George’s punches with that fist, and instead was taking punches and kicks from his other limbs in order to dodge it.

She looked like she might be holding her own, if barely, when she snapped a crescent kick at George’s head, and instead of dodging it, he merely leaned into it and took her shin on his neck. The glow that had been previously on George’s fist was now circling his neck and head. The powerful kick was stopped short, as if hitting a brick wall.

Stepping forward, George grabbed Clara’s tunic at the shoulders and viciously headbutted her in the face. She collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Hudson didn’t know what to do. Clara had been right; George was strong. Too strong for them. And outside of the trial area, he was clearly not pulling his punches in any way, taking out two of them in seconds. He was using some sort of technique that made an area of his body invulnerable and shine with a silvery light.

He racked his brain; there must be something he could do. Something to win or to get out of this situation. It looked hopeless, however, as even if they could push George back, there were still his eight minions surrounding them and looking on.

George dodged suddenly to the side and forward, a spear thrust piercing the space where his lower back had been previously. Cor, who was standing behind George, pulled his spear back for another thrust.

“Military,” George said as he again dodged Cor’s follow up. “Solid tactics and the will to execute. Sharp killing intent… Good. But that also gave you away.”

Cor stepped and thrust, aiming for George’s chest. George sidestepped neatly, using the back of his open palm to gently guide the spear shaft away from him. George’s movements were fast, neat, and controlled.

“But what is this grip? And your feet work,” George tsked. “Even if this is likely the first time you’ve ever held a spear, there are limits to how poorly one can be wielded.”

George continued to dodge Cor’s spear thrusts while commenting on his form and technique. The narrow walls of the ravine helped Cor keep George in front of him, but Cor’s expression grew sweaty and desperate, as he realized that George wasn’t taking him seriously at all and was just playing with him.

Hudson looked at Clara, crumpled on the ground, hopefully unconscious and not dead. He looked at the eight minions, some of them looking down from their perches in the ravine with smiles and cruel expressions. He could try to run, just like Vince. Leave Cor and Clara behind; George had said he wouldn’t kill them.

He didn’t really owe either Cor or Clara anything, did he? They were just people he had met in this crazy trial. Trust no one, the words echoed out of nowhere, like a strange compulsion. Other people eventually just took advantage of him; why should he help them now if they would turn on him later?

And he couldn’t help either; he was too weak. Vince had been smart, running away as quickly as he could. Hudson had already tried to fight George and had been knocked out of the fight with one punch, his arm already broken. He’d never had a broken bone before, and the pain was excruciating.

One of the cheaters laughed. It was Kenji, the one they had fought on the obstacle course. His expression was a cruel rictus of glee as he watched George play with Cor.

At the sound of that cruel laugh, the small flame of resolve in his soul flared up. A dam broke, and his anger surged in an overwhelming flood.

Who were these people? Who did they think they were? And how could they do this to him and his friends? The anger blocked out his pain and pushed aside his fears – the fear of being hurt, the fear of being killed, and the fear that if he helped his new friends, they would turn their backs on him and eventually betray him.

His nostrils flared, air flooding into and out of his lungs at the tempo of his Engine Breath technique. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was vibrating. He jumped to his feet and grabbed the first thing to hand – one of the sledgehammers he’d put in the wheelbarrow. His left arm was still broken and hanging at his side, but he raised the sledgehammer up with his right and charged at George.

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Hudson, in the midst of his anger, didn’t stop to wonder at the silvery glow flowing up out his body and into the handle of the sledge, where it was accumulating at the head. The previous day, when they had been mining, he had seen a faint glow extending from the head of the pickaxe when using his breathing technique. That glow was also the same color and vibrancy as the silvery light coating George’s fist.

Hudson’s approach did not go unnoticed. George deftly dodged a thrust from Cor, then brought a glowing knife hand down on the haft of the spear, snapping it in half, before turning calmly to face Hudson’s charge.

George easily dodged to the side as Hudson slammed the sledgehammer down into the floor of the ravine. A sharp crack echoed through the closed space, and a small explosion showered Hudson, George, Cor, and even the prone figure of Clara with sharp bits of rock and dust.

Hudson pulled back and swung again, missing George as he dodged away from both Hudson and Cor. Another small explosion of rocks and dust showered Hudson and George.

George wiped his forehead in disbelief, his hand coming away red with blood from a shallow gash on his forehead where a splinter of rock had struck him.The red flush of anger climbed up the pale skin of his neck and replaced the cool arrogance in his face, until it was flushed completely, and almost as red as the small trickle of blood flowing past his temple.

Hudson raised his hammer and this time, he swung it in a vicious sideways slice, the head glowing with an even sharper intensity than before. George, in his own anger at being bloodied, decided to block the attack with a glowing forearm.

Hudson’s blow struck George’s arm with a loud clang and a squeal, like steel striking steel. The impact swung Hudson back and off balance. George stayed on his feet, but was knocked back several paces, and his left arm was now hanging loosely at his side. While his special technique had blocked the direct damage and explosive potential of the sledgehammer, it had not blocked the sheer amount of energy transferred, and his shoulder had been dislocated.

“Impossible. You loathsome wretch,” George spat in rage. Clara’s prone body was lying on the ground next to him, and in a fit of pique, he kicked her in the chest, launching her into the air with his cultivation enhanced strength. She hit the side of the ravine and slid down into a pile of scree a few feet away from Hudson.

George’s minions rushed down from their perches on boulders and ledges in the ravine walls until they were all arrayed behind him on the path. One of them pressed a large pill the size of a marble into George’s hand, which he immediately transferred to his mouth.

Cor dropped his broken spear and ran to check on Clara. Confirming that she was still breathing, he quickly slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Hudson, we need to retreat,” Cor said. “We can’t win this fight.”

Hudson didn’t respond. There was no retreat – the path back to the portal was blocked by George and his minions. His eyes remained fixed on George and the other members of S.E.C.T. arrayed in front of him, but none seemed eager to tempt a blow from Hudson’s sledgehammer. Yet.

“Hudson,” Cor repeated.

“I know we can’t win,” Hudson said through clenched teeth. “But I don’t really care about winning right now.”

“They will kill you. Kill me, and Clara too,” Cor said quietly. “They’re done playing around.”

Hudson didn’t reply. It was difficult to think clearly; the beating of his heart and the rush of wind through his lungs demanded action. Demanded that he give vent to his righteous anger.

George grunted softly as the same member who had given him the large pill forcefully shoved his arm back into his socket.

“We gotta move!” Cor said finally, turning and running deeper into the ravine, away from George, his group, and away from the exit back to the trial hangar.

He couldn’t win, even using the sledgehammer and its special ability to concentrate energy for a powerful blow. But he couldn’t just run away either. In frustration, he lifted the sledge high over his shoulder.

The silver glow grew brighter and brighter until it was painful to look at. The dark night of the alien world was lit in sharp relief. Hudson felt the strain on his body as he accelerated his Engine Breath technique to a tempo far past any speed he had ever attempted before.

When he felt his body finally start to give out, when he felt tiny cracks open on his skin, bleeding a mixture of blood and ichor, and when his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest – he still held on.

He held on, charging his attack until he finally saw what he was waiting for: the faintest trace of fear; the smallest seed of doubt sprouting on the face of his enemy. As George’s arrogance and unflinching belief in his own superiority cracked and he took a single step back, Hudson swung his hammer down.

He was far from George and his minions; at least twenty feet away. But he wasn’t aiming for them; instead, he aimed for the wall of the ravine next to him. Run? Fight? He didn’t like either of those options, so he found another one.

When the glaringly bright head of the sledgehammer hit the rock wall of the ravine, an explosion rocketed through the narrow space, propelling an unconscious Hudson backwards in a storm of dust and rock fragments.