Xelander sauntered out of another distortion in the bathroom. Seething-hot rage surged within me, but again, an unseen force washed it away and held me still. The demon swept his head around and tapped his finger in the air as if he were counting.
“Wow, down to just over 2 billion contenders—less than a quarter survived. Embarrassing, really. Somebody lost money on this, that’s for sure.”
The horror of the death toll pierced the fog in my mind and pulled my thoughts back to the surface. The demon glanced over at me.
“You contenders did hold a few surprises though. The disparity in how well some of you dealt with the First Trial was astonishing.”
Xelander reached back into the distortion and grabbed a clipboard. He read the page to himself, a short claw tracing down the paper.
“There was an overall survival rate of 24%, but that doesn’t tell the whole story. If anything, it’s a blatant lie. We have an inverse bell-curve situation going on here.”
Xelander flung the clipboard back into the distortion and gestured around him at different parts of the bathroom.
“Many small pockets had an outstanding survival rate. The most remarkable outlier being someplace called Texas, with an impressive 68%.”
He mimed drawing a revolver and firing a few times before blowing on the tip of the barrel.
“Absolutely phenomenal. Keep your eyes on those cowboys. On the other end of the spectrum, areas like Southeast Asia were decimated, with an abysmal survival rate of 3%. Don’t give up on them yet though. Some of the most impressive contenders come from the most desperate of circumstances. That being said, a quick word of advice to the contenders near the area.”
The demon’s eyes met my own.
“Be on the lookout for roaming herds of gremlins numbering in the hundreds of millions. Nasty little monsters they are.”
He returned to face whomever the performance was for.
“I’m sure many of you patrons already have your eye on a promising contender, and if you don’t, we’ll be going over many of the standout performances in between trials. But don’t get too attached. We’re just getting started, after all. They still must be lifted out of the mud and start their journey toward civilization.”
Xelander threw his hands up in the air and struck a pose.
“It’s time for their reward! Each of them will gain access to an A.M.I. specially calibrated for the Planetary Games. They will select a class, giving them a unique skill set with which to compete. Our contenders have many important decisions to make, and I’m sure they have plenty of questions as well. We’ll catch back up with them once everyone has made their choice. Now, a word from our sponsor.”
Xelander turned back toward me, his smirk gone. He gathered the saliva in his mouth and spat to the side. He spoke again, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Alright, let’s get this out of the way. I don’t feel like waiting around for you all to come back online, so you get the spiel now. Don’t blame me if your pathetic, weak bodies can’t remember anything afterward.”
He cleared his throat and removed his jacket, revealing long black sleeves that shimmered in the light. His words passed through my mind as I only passively listened. He tossed the jacket into the spatial distortion.
“Yes, this is real. No, I am not God. No, I am not actually in front of you. Yes, we can see you. For those of you who are confused about how you got to where you are: anything that wasn’t on land or moving was landed or slowed, for lack of a better explanation. Explosions are cheap. Good contenders are priceless.”
Xelander loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, exposing a smooth gray chest.
“You don’t need to worry about any nuclear explosions, those super viruses you guys were creating getting out, or anything else from before today really. We’ve removed or altered anything that would have been game-ending. Like I said, explosions are cheap.
“And that should be everything the A.M.I. won’t be able to explain. You should also know that, in the future, you won’t be frozen as you are now when announcements are made, so don’t go making any stupid plans involving that.”
The demon turned to walk away.
“Any questions?”
He glanced back at my frozen body as he stepped through the distortion.
“Didn’t think so.”
Feeling crept back into my arms and legs. Pins and needles tickled my skin. Dread filled my stomach as I thought about what awaited me outside the bathroom. I gazed down at Aurora’s face, still peacefully sound asleep.
How on earth are you not bawling your eyes out?
I shook my head and accepted it for now. It was better if she was still asleep. Part of me wished I could join her. My brain was frozen stiff. Feelings clogged the blender that normally processed information into thoughts.
What the hell is going on?
The prickling sensation transitioned to a deep itch. I sat up straighter and scanned the underside of my left arm. A splotchy rash spread across my skin from my elbow to palm. Adrenaline spiked through my body, clearing the fog from my mind. I went to stand, but my muscles weakened. My vision blurred. I fell to the side, and my face hit the ground with a crack.
All was black or, more accurately, everything was nothing. I couldn’t see, hear, or feel. An endless void extended in every direction. Something inside me wanted to be afraid of the nothingness—the lack of all senses—but the void felt familiar and comfortable.
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I blinked and was in my house again, sitting on the couch, controller on the coffee table. The TV droned on, but I couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Madi was cooking in the kitchen. A yell echoed down the hall, followed by a round of laughter.
Madi?
Boys?
I sprang to my feet and sprinted toward their voices.
I needed to get there in time.
I needed to save them.
The hall warped and stretched away from me.
No.
With each step, I moved further and further away from the door.
No!
I’m not going to make it.
No!
They’re going to die!
“Hello,” a soft, feminine voice echoed through the house, piercing the fog over my mind.
“Who’s there?” I spun around, still in the living room.
“I am an artificial mana-weave interface, or an A.M.I., if you would prefer.”
My thoughts swam around my head in a jumbled mess. I focused on her words, the only thing that had any substance.
“What’s going on? Where are they? I need to save—” A wave of pain rolled up my chest, and the world shook.
“Careful. There is no need to rush. Straining against the emotional inhibitor this soon will only hurt,” the voice said. “Relax and listen. I will try to answer the more common concerns.”
The anxiety and pain swelled inside of me as memories returned, scene by scene.
“They’re...”
I saw them clearly in my mind—their broken, unmoving bodies. I collapsed onto the couch. Pressure built up inside my chest until suddenly it was gone. The all-consuming dread, the burning rage, the overwhelming grief—it was gone, faded away as if it had only been a dream. I could still sense them, but they were just out of reach, like I was at the edge of a pool and all I needed to do was jump in.
I took in the room around me. Scratched PlayStation, stained couch, worn coffee table—the family living room down to the smallest imperfection. However, a strange fuzziness covered everything further than a few feet away.
“Where am I?”
“Your happy place.”
A strange rationality settled over me. I knew I should be suffering, unable to act, but I wasn’t. I was three-energy-drinks-deep-on-a-time-crunch focused. The last thing I remembered was falling unconscious.
This can’t be real.
“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are.”
I gripped my head with my hands. My breath came out shallow and shaky. “Are... are they really gone?”
The voice didn’t respond. I wanted to deny it. Chalk it all up to a delusion, a psychotic break, a nightmare, but whatever cold rationality gripped me refused to let me lie to myself.
They were dead.
“Is Aurora alright?”
Again, nothing.
It said it was here to answer questions, right?
Why doesn’t it answer me?
The temperature rose in the room as indignation burned inside my chest before floating away into the distance. The room returned to a comfortable temperature.
I wanted to scream—to cry, to fight, to hurt, to suffer.
But I couldn’t.
Some unseen force denied me my rightful release.
I searched the room for the source of the voice. It had answers. To what I wasn’t sure, but it had them. There wasn’t much else I could do.
“Alright”—I took a deep breath—“lay it on me.”
“Your planet has had the honor of being chosen as the location of the 91,734th Planetary Games. This year, the Games were decided to be an A.M.I.-enhanced, trial-based battle royale. A.M.I.-enhanced means each contender will be given the opportunity to increase their capabilities based on their accomplishment and merit throughout the Game. The Game will then be a fight to the death via a series of trials, resulting in a final surviving winner. Do you have any questions?”
The voice sounded like it was explaining a board game for kids. I could hear her friendly smile. It made me sick. I rubbed my face and let her words sink in. Most of the walls were now as crisp as they had been a few hours ago.
The demon had said something similar. I couldn’t remember all the details. The memories were clouded and distant.
I didn’t want to admit it; I hated feeling this way, but it was nice here. The overwhelming dread and self-loathing were a manageable rumble, a distant storm far outside the living room window.
Not that the relief changed anything though. I was still terrified of waking up, of returning to reality.
Now that they’re gone, why would I...
“What’s even the point?” I mumbled to myself.
“The Planetary Games are primarily live entertainment. Unless you meant what is the goal, in which case it is to survive until you are the last person standing.”
The weight. The sharp, mind-shattering ache was gone, but I still felt the pain, like a physical weight on my body. It was unbearably heavy. Grief bubbled up inside of me, and thunder echoed outside the window.
I need to think about something else.
I asked the first thing that came to mind. “Okay... is there only one winner?”
“In this situation, yes.”
“Always only one, never more?”
“There has always been either one winner or no winner.”
“No winner?”
“Occasionally, all contenders die in the end.”
“Great, glad that’s on the table.” I tried to rub the stress from my eyes. “These trials... are they a bunch of arena-style fights to the death?”
“Sometimes. However, that answer may be misleading. The trial variation is vast.”
“But I would have to kill people?”
“Again, it depends on the trial. Every trial’s goal is to reduce the number of contenders. Death by rival contender is the most common way a contender is eliminated after the first few trials.”
My head fell back, and I stared up at the ceiling.
I’d have to kill...
Could I even do that?
Do I even want to do that?
Thunder crashed outside the house. The overwhelming pain that waited for me as soon as I awoke seeped into my mind for a second before fading away again. The storm drew my eyes to the window, and far in the distance I saw myself drenched in blood, surrounded by countless dead bodies.
Their deaths were on my hands.
I blinked and I was outside my house, surrounded by my victims. I held a jagged knife. Blood dripped down my arms, and battle lust pounded in my ears. The dead glared at me with accusations.
I’d killed them. One by one, I’d plunged the blade into their hearts. I had become a monster.
How could it ever be worth it?
I stared down at my blood-soaked hands and whispered, “What happens to the final contender after they win?”
“The final contender is assimilated into society with a sizable amount of fortune and fame.”
Again, my gaze drifted out into the distance. I saw myself on a throne surrounded by gold and jewels. Applause echoed in the air.
I fell to my knees. “But I don’t want any of that.” With a thunderous crash, a bolt of lightning struck the vision of my future, and the image shattered like glass.
I looked back at the small family house far in the distance. Tears streamed down my face. “I already had everything I ever wanted.” The next words caught in my throat. The world shook as the sky thundered. “And now they’re gone.” I buried my face in my hands and wept. Drops of rain trickled and then poured from the sky.
Why...
What’s the point?
I just want it to stop...
A giggle cut through the rain, louder than the thunder ever could. I snapped my eyes back to the house to see Madi and me walking in with Aurora from the hospital a month ago. Alan, Brandon, and Jordan had rushed down the stairs and surrounded their mother. One by one, they passed Aurora around. New, guilty tears rolled down my face.
“I’m such a fool.” A beam of light broke through the dark clouds above. I now held Aurora in my arms. Her wide eyes searched until they caught mine. “I still have our beautiful baby girl.”
Thoughts connected in my mind faster than they could form. The dream warped and then warped again. I was still in the field of bodies, but now I paid their accusing gazes no mind. Wounds covered my body. I raised a shield in one hand and held Aurora in the other. With my last breath, I stared into her eyes.
She won’t remember me.
She won’t remember any of us.
But she will live.
A feeling swelled inside me that I had only ever felt once before—when I held my first child, Alan. A complete and unshakeable understanding that I would need to change who I was. I could no longer be a child and would need to become a man. I glanced around me at the field of bodies.
What will I need to become this time?
I looked down at Aurora, now asleep.
Whatever it takes.
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