With a strong and clear voice Atlas stated his desire one more, " Give me the Ability - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger as I envision it!"
This time a golden glow suffused Atlas himself, he rose gently off the ground until only the balls of his feel remained in tenuous contact with the ground. Arms akimbo and hair flowing he felt power flood through him deep into his core, what felt like a raging river quickly became an ocean, which grew even more vast with each passing moment. Atlas roared out in indeterminable pain as he quickly reached the critical point where the power was about to show him how suns die, personally. Then, as suddenly as it came. It stopped. Collapsing to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut Atlas lay there as he slowly felt his body recover.
Jesus-Christ-on-a-bike! I thought that was the end of me. Even his thought felt out of breath. As he rose to his feet Atlas realised that he could feel a small difference about him, an emptiness that wasn't there before. A small void had appeared in his core, or at least, that’s what if felt like.
"Shit, of course. My power takes time to gather momentum, I'm not going to be unstoppable right out of the gate. Hopefully I can survive long enough to put it to some good use." Atlas spoke out loud to himself as he dusted himself off and headed over to his bag and sword. He once again tried futilely to remove it. Dammit, it must be embedded in some stone, how sharp is this damn thing? Atlas then went on to make his lizard and monkey brain origins proud by proceeding to test how sharp his sword, a sword he had specifically imagined to be as sharp as possible, by grabbing it. No prizes for guessing how that went.
"Fuck's sake! he hissed as he yanked his hand back. "You do this to yourself every time, Moron! You grab the plate when the waiter says its hot, you grab the sharp sword WHEN YOU IMAGINED IT WOULD BE SHARP!!" After lambasting himself for his stupidity, Atlas reached for his bag when he noticed that his hand was healing, albeit slowly. It had already scabbed a little and had stopped bleeding. Outstanding he thought. Directing his attention to the void in his chest he felt as if it different, somehow. After a few moments of feeling it, he realised that it was slightly less empty.
Okay, this ability isn't an exact replica of the source material I drew inspiration from, but it seems to follow what I imagined very closely. I - His thoughts were interrupted by another announcement. The board just near him instantly appeared once more before his vision from its previous position to his left.
Prime Candidate! Your grace period of 100 pulsars time has elapsed. The safety measures on your immediate area have fallen. A trans-dimensional surveillance drone shall now make itself known. If your species has reached sufficient technological advancement to receive its transmissions your struggle for survival, and by proxy theirs, shall be made available for viewing. The drone will also be equipped with a rudimentary Candidate Status to track your progress within the game.
*Survival is a privilege and must be earned. Prove your worth for such a gift.*
Candidates: 999,068
Time: 100 Pulsars Elapsed
Atlas' eyes widened at the implications of the message before him. As he finished reading, the screen shimmed and a metal ball with a large circular blue orb for an eye emerged. He watched as the Drone floated before him before rising 3m into the air and rotating 360 degrees, humming once before speaking.
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"Observer drone 343DBZ online. Connection to trans-dimensional network achieved. Connection to Prime Candidates planet of origin achieved, classification - Terra, Earth.”
The drone angled its subtly glowing orb in his direction before speaking once more, "Prime candidate, I am Observer drone 343DBZ. I will be accompanying you throughout The Game.
Atlas stared at the marvel of technology before him for a moment before its words caught up with him.
‘Wait, I’m being transmitted to Earth media? That’s insane. This is some warped Hunger Games shit!’ he screamed internally.
The drone sat there in the air silently observing him and his surroundings. Atlas stared back. He had had it with this bullshit. He looked at the observer and asked it a simple question, “why?”
There was a pregnant pause.
The drone did not respond, when it became clear that no answer was forthcoming Atlas huffed, irritation showing on his face as he turned his back and threw a middle finger at the drone over his shoulder as he walked away, and it followed.
***
Across the Earth they watched. They were stuck dumb when an announcement when across the globe, ‘The Game Starts soon. Cheer your Champion, for if your Prime Candidate falls…Then so do you.’
There had been an uproar when the message had replaced their media channels, the first station on every tv, radio and home page displayed the same thing. A black screen upon which the bold golden words sat. For several hours people tried to decipher what they meant. They soon wished that they never would when The Game began. They cried out when the rules of The Game were broadcast on screen.
= Welcome! Your species has been chosen to compete in The Game. A great honour, and a terrible burden, rests upon your Prime Candidates’ shoulders. As the Prime Candidate fights in The Game, he fights not just for his survival but for your species survival as well. Should they die, your species and planet(s) will be extinguished from existence. You are currently observing the first stage of The Game, Stage Alpha: The Jungle Planet. To qualify for the next stage, Stage Beta, you must survive the culling! Be one of the remaining hundred thousand out of the initial one million Prime Candidates. Good Luck Humanity! =
With horror and bated breath, they watched. They watched as a defiant young man stood in a clearing on the TV. He was tall with an athletic frame, brown hair hung down across his forehead almost to his eyes. They burned with an intensity such that few could meet his gaze, even on screen. Molten brown stared back. He stood clothed in jeans, leather boots and an open tan leather jacket. What surprised many was that he was shirtless beneath, his chest bared to the elements. Many mocked his appearance, who did he think he was, dressed like a B-movie action hero. Then sound hit the screen.
"Observer drone 343DBZ online. Connection to trans-dimensional network achieved. Connection to Prime Candidates planet of origin achieved, classification - Terra, Earth.”
His face clouded and he asked but one question. “Why?”
When it became clear that no answer was forthcoming, he grunted in an unhappy manner and turned away, middle finger thrown up over his shoulder for the world to see. Tucked away on earth a small family of four, now three, sat in disbelief and terror as they found the answer to the question, they had been asking themselves for the last 48 hours – “Where was the missing Atlas?”.
***
He walked back towards his belongings his mind racing at the task set before him, he was no hero, no chosen one certainly no candidate! There were others on earth who would have been a far more sensible choice, hell even a saner choice than him. His musings had the unintended side effect of slightly muting the noise and sights of his surroundings. A forgivable mistake on Earth where in civilised society the most dangerous thing you may do is bump into someone or miss your train. Here, on Stage Alpha, inattentiveness and lack of awareness were deadly. A beast broke through the surrounding bush that enclosed the clearing in which Atlas currently resided. Startled Atlas barely had time to react before it barrelled into him. A mass of black fur and teeth took him in the shoulder and carried him away from the safety of the clearing. What both Atlas and the beast, that he was currently riding economy class in the maw of, didn’t know was that there was a cliffside but a few scant feet in the direction they were headed. Atlas screamed in panic and pain. His adrenaline spiked with the fear. His hand whipped around in a fist and collided with the dense fur of the beast. His third swing hit something soft and fleshy. The beast made an unnatural gurgling noise before it spat him out. At first Atlas thought it was because of his mighty blow, but then he saw the ominous drop that they were both skidding towards, and his heart plummeted. A moment later and so did he.
***
Earths collective heart was in its throat as they held their breath. They had just watched a black wolf, the size of a minivan come rushing out of the bush and take their champion in the shoulder with its maw. Its pace did not faulter as it carried on running, fists hammering on its snout as it ran through the bush. The camera kept pace with the pair as they made their way forward before it swung round to give the audience a side view of them as they moved, not just giving a perfect view of Atlas’ futile struggle but of the few scant feet of bare stone before a cliffs edge as they burst from the jungle cover. The fright of the beast was made apparent by an unnatural gurgle it made. It spat him out just as he hit it square in the eye. The pain causing the beast to faulter for a split second. They both skidded toward the edge. The last moments of the camera’s footage showed a hand scrabbling at the edge before it whipped off, Atlas in the air fingers outstretched, hanging for the briefest of moments. The camera swept over the cliff and plunged down after their Prime Candidate, presumably for them to watch his demise in excruciating detail as his end spelled their own.