It crawled up from the sand—practically beneath Rick’s feet—the very moment he left the rocky ground.

He staggered out from under the shifting sand, urgently scrambling to pull his booted feet away from the sinking sand replacing the void created by the emerging monster.

Rick had never encountered a desert Wild One, and the design of its form was different than most he’d seen, aside from the lungfish he’d encountered early on in his training.

He conjured the yellow and slipped into empty mind. It fit him like a glove now, though maybe it was the other way around; perhaps the empty mind was more “him” than the other, and his personality was the glove he slipped on every day when he woke.

The creature stood on six legs, with its human torso rising from it, as if it were an insectoid centaur. The foremost of its six legs were much bigger, more like the legs of a short, squat person, though they terminated in simpler feet than a human’s. Unlike a scorpion, the beast had the strange posture of an exaggerated, insect-like hyena.

Its arms were burly, like one would imagine of a blacksmith or a bodybuilder, and the three-fingered hands at the end were more complicated, each like the smaller part of one half of a pincer. The thumb, though, was enormous and elongated.

The torso built to a short neck and a half-human-looking face with horizontal mandibles instead of a normal jaw, making the beast seem more alien than natural, it’s proportions Most dangerous of all, though, was the long tail that curled up behind the beast, curling around with a stinger.

In a flash, the stinger came forward. Rick dodged and performed Swan Lake, though when he chopped, his hand glanced off a mandible instead of striking the thing’s neck. At the same time, one of the beast’s claw-like fingers reached for him and he performed Roamin’ Cancel, resetting to a position in front of the thing. Once more, the stinger came down, but this time, Rick rolled left, then initiated Spinning Wake Up. The opening low spin kick swept out the monster’s right leg, but other than dipping slightly, the beast suffered no consequences and was able to easily block Rick’s following uppercuts. He turned again, circling out of the path of its massive, swinging clawfist. As he turned, he checked the distance from where the other player character had been advancing.

The player had covered a shocking amount of ground! Rick dove beneath the beast as the stinger came down again, but the scorpionic Wild One squatted back, trapping him. Rick winced in anticipation of the massive beast sitting on him, and as expected, the hard plates of its chitinous under-shell pressed into him. Then they stopped and the creature stood higher again, as if it had changed its mind.

Rick dug himself into the sand, trying to get a better view of what had happened to change the scorpioid bot to to alter its behavior. He caught a glance of booted feet as they shuffled by, kicking sand in his direction. The other player had caught up to them. Great. I’m trying to make an impression, and the streaming audience can’t even see me. He rolled left, but in the course of fighting the other player, the creature had placed its legs too close together for him to get out. It was as if he’d been locked in a chitin cage.

He punched one of the legs and it moved back six or so inches, but immediately, it shuffled back in place. In a last ditch effort to get out, he crossed his arms out in front of himself, then swung them out as hard as he could against two legs. It shifted the scorpion so that it dropped, like a gymnast doing a split, further compacting the area he had available to maneuver. There was the hard sound of fist against chitin shell, then shuffling. Rick got another idea and pushed up on the scorpioid Wild One’s undercarriage, but it didn’t move. He shifted strategies, lying on his back and pressing up with his legs, as if he were in an old-fashioned leg press machine. This time, the damned thing gave way, though it was only a foot at first. Another blow came from above that knocked the Wild One further sideways, and in its attempt to right itself, it skittered off Rick, jabbing the end of one of its smaller legs into Rick’s belly as it did.

Ugh. Rick curled up and rolled away, which allowed sand to drift down his pants and up the shirt of his suit. He struggled to get his feet beneath him when something hard hit him along his back. He panicked at the sight of the scorpion’s stinging tail, but there was no puncture, and no pain. When the stinging tail retreated, it became apparent why; the other player had broken the beast’s stinger! Why didn’t I think of that? He shook his head. Because it’s dangerous as fuck, that’s why.

When he stood, the beast’s back was to him. Rick tried to scramble, but the sand fought him, making it difficult to move quickly. The Wild One’s tail was another obstacle. Though its stinger was broken, the sheer mass of its tail made it difficult to strike.

He circled to the left, then had to think quickly as the beast shifted, swinging its tail so rapidly it threatened to take off his head as he ducked. He glanced at one of its hindmost, smaller legs and, though it seemed a useful approach, he frowned at his idea.

Tracking the leg like a cat watching a mouse, he searched for a pattern. He reached for the leg, but it scurried out of the way at the last moment. He tried again, and that time he got it. He pulled hard, trapping the leg, then breaking it by bending it against the natural motion of its joint.

One of its claws flashed and he didn’t have time to dodge or deflect it. It dragged along his left shoulder and tore downward as he pulled away, trying to avoid the sharp edge of the claw. The pain became intense before it dropped away, triggering the laughter response. Involuntarily, he began laughing. It knocked him out of empty mind, and he writhed on the ground, helpless against whatever attack might come next.

But it never came. Before he stood, he first conjured the yellow light of his solar plexus and slipped into empty mind again. The laughter had faded away, transitioning into a deep, but not unbearable pain in his left shoulder. He switched stances to Ga Family Style when he stood. The other player, whose tag dubbed him R3D_Button, was of average height, a medium build white man with a flashy Asian-style red silk jacket. That R3D_Button hadn’t attacked Rick when he was vulnerable was unusual.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The other player took a hard claw hit in the chest and stumbled back. The Wild One hesitated, then turned to face Rick.

Instead of waiting, Rick performed Try Harder, marking his first attempt with a Ga Family Style skill. The left jab made the wound in his arm burn as if it were on fire. The jab barely contacted the beast’s chitin shell, but it was enough to allow him to follow up with the hard right hook, which smashed the Wild One’s ribs as it turned. The hook stunned it enough that the hard leading foot kick stopped it dead in its tracks. Anticipating an attack, Rick leapt backward, trying to stay out of the range of its clawlike fists, but the beast never attacked. R3D_Button had recovered and he’d broken the creature’s other back leg.

Both its rearmost legs broken, the Wild One’s mobility suffered dramatically. It hobbled back and forth between the two threats, and R3D_Button was smart enough to stay diametrically opposite to Rick—a favor Rick returned in kind when the other player had to dodge to one side or the other.

The next time the Wild One turned its side to him, Rick executed Toe Slapping Driver. Since the beast was so tall at the torso, the high spinning kick of Toe Slapping Driver struck the beast’s ribs again in the same place he’d hit it before. An unearthly, rattling roar broke the air as the beast howled, but it couldn’t turn in time to block or avoid the downward punch that comprised the second half of Toe Slapping Driver. Rick’s fist came down hard on the beast’s sternum, driving it downward further. The other player, R3D_Button, was on it in an instant, and Rick worried the other player would get the kill. When the other player snapped the scorpionic beast’s neck and slowly sank toward the sand as the Wild One’s body dissolved, it confirmed his worry.

****************************

Rick stepped back. R3D_Button was too close to the icons that he wouldn’t have been able to attack him before the other player got them.

The other player did something unexpected then. Smiling, the man approached with his hand out. “Awesome work, man.”

Rick tilted his head, but didn’t get out of his fighting stance.

“That should have been your kill,” R3D_Button said.

Rick shrugged and let go of empty mind, slipping out of his battle state. They’d both fought hard. He took notice of the man’s attire. He wore black denim pants and a long black trench coat. A black headband held his dark hair out away from his face, though it was so slicked down, it likely wouldn’t have moved. Had it been a real desert, the man would have burned up beneath all that black.

“I can split it with you.” R3D_Button pointed to the icons—an orange one with a gold star, a normal orange icon, a blue icon, and two yellows. “You can have the yellows—just take those either way.” He laughed. “I’ve got more than enough belts and tattoos.”

Rick sighed. “So you mean to just give me one of the other ones?”

The other player grimaced. “Not exactly.” The man looked down, then up. “Look, I’ve tried to qualify for this match twelve times already. Got close a few times.” He frowned. “My skills are mostly nailed. I just keep running into weird luck. I need the Halo Boost, but you can have one of the other two, a skill or a boost, if you’ll let us fight together as a team, at least until we’re in the top ten.”

Rick contemplated the offer. All his attempts at getting attention would be worthless if he couldn’t qualify. The dark-haired player had fought well against the scorpion Wild One, and that had been the most fearsome bot Rick had yet encountered. He doubted he could have taken it alone.

He held out his right hand. “I want the blue one. I’m pretty boosted already.”

R3D_Button smiled and nodded, then shook. “Let me relinquish the blue.”

“I didn’t even know you could do that.”

R3D_Button frowned. “Really? You have to collect it first. Then you go into skills and there’s an “x” button.”

Rick tilted his head. “I was told that’s to delete a skill you don’t want.”

R3D_Button nodded. “Yeah, it does that, but it brings up a window that says ‘relinquish, delete, or cancel.’ Pick one, and then it checks to make sure. Can’t believe no one told you that.”

“I guess she doesn’t think I play well with others.”

R3D_Button squinted at him. “I don’t know who she is, but judging by the way we dismantled that scorpion thing, I’d say she’s wrong.” He shrugged. “I hope she is, at least.” He collected the icons and his eyes looked far away for a moment. Then, the blue icon appeared in the air again. “Hey, you picked a good one!”

Rick approached the icon.

Active Skill Acquired!

Double Jump: Rare skill. Achieve better vertical reach to attack or avoid your opponents. Also works well for climbing. No cooldown.

Cosmetic Item Acquired!

Elf Ears: Wouldn’t you be rather more attractive if your ears were pointier?

Cosmetic Item Acquired!

Gold Teeth: A retro favorite!

There it was. Rick decided on the spot that Double Jump was the skill he’d take with him if he qualified. He had to qualify. Anything short of that would be too little. R3D_Button’s offer of cooperation had been a godsend. Unless it makes it harder to impress those watching.

R3D_Button had already taken a few steps back toward the path. Lightning flashed in the corner of Rick’s eye. “Right behind you. The ring’s getting close. Mind if we jog?”

The dark-haired player broke into a jog and Rick followed suit, increasing his pace until he ran abreast of the other player.

“You got”—the other player panted—“a strategy?”

Rick nodded. “I need to get attention.” He caught his breath but didn’t stop running. “If you’re interested, let’s talk about how to do that. I need to do some crazy shit and I don’t wanna take you by surprise.”

R3D_Button gave him a curious glance. “As soon as we get some distance, I’m down. I think I know a few cache sites.” He panted and looked forward again. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

Skepticism rose in Rick’s mind. Perhaps he was paranoid. “I’m down, too.” He leveled a narrow-eyed look at R3D_Button. “Once we get to ten, promise we’ll give one another a warning before one of us attacks the other?”

“Oh yeah. Thought that was implied, but yeah.” R3D_Button nodded. “It’s gonna be a relief just to get in. You only gotta qualify once.” The man looked down. “I’m sure you already know that.”

Rick shrugged mid-stride. “I’ve always made rank every time I’ve qualified.”

R3D_Button stopped running, and it took Rick a few paces to match him and stop as well.

“You made rank your first time? Hell, your second time?”

Rick nodded. “I had a disconnect the first time I tried to qualify for this rank.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that unusual?”

R3D_Button’s eyes were wide. “Damn. I got lucky, I guess. Picked a good partner—unless you’re pulling my leg?”

“Not pulling your leg. Didn’t know it was unusual.” Rick looked down, then at the path before them, then back whence they’d come. “The ring’s a bit back now. Proportions are weird here. Nothing moves like in the real world, not that we have a lightning ring or anything to compare it to, but…”

R3D_Button nodded. “Could have stopped running a ways back. One thing about having to run these qualifiers again and again is that you get a good read on things like the ring-out.” He laughed.

Rick checked the player count.

44/43/42…