Part Zero: Prologue

The sound of a sword clashing against steel. *clink*

“I said stop, why in the world of Primo are we even fighting?” Takeo shouted, glaring at the hulking stranger in front of him. The man was dressed absurdly, one might even call it inappropriately —wearing nothing but a metal chest plate that barely covered his chest, while the rest of his massive stomach spilled out beneath it.

Seriously, what was the point of the armor? Takeo wondered.

“Didn’t you hear the announcement? They said to eliminate all participants designated as enemies. You. Enemy. Dead,” the stranger growled.

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“You know, I don't think the announcement said anything like that and for a guy who looks like he’s pushing fifty, you’ve got quite the temper. Side effect of aging?” Takeo quipped, a smirk on his face.

“I’m in my late twenties, now shut up and die.”

With a roar, the bulky man hurled his Warhammer with all his might. Takeo barely dodged, the weapon smashing into the ground with a thud. The impact nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Ha! You must think I need a weapon to cru—”

In a blink, Takeo dashed forward, channeling Flow to his feet, his movement faster than the eye could follow. The man’s eyes widened in shock as Takeo flipped, landing a swift kick to his skull. The hit knocked the man out cold before he could even finish his sentence.

“Ya know, your words don’t match your abilities," Takeo muttered, shaking his head.