“Are you sure you wanna go through with this?”
An automated twin needle jab into the neck quickly brought up the name “SAVINIEN ROOK” on the coliseum signup display, along with a rotating 3d display of the namesake’s head. Other unique identifying features were also displayed, like fingerprints, retinal scan, a similarly rotating 3d display of his spinal column, and his lone tattoo.
RACE: Human
ORIGIN: Akabyssus [KR67Q3SQ15]
TYPE: Carbon-based
“How hard could it be? Look, they already know who I am.”
“This is just from your galactic record,” added the small tentacled one at his side. “Anyone with access to your DNA would be able to see this info.” Gus produced a vial from its straitjacket with a handwritten label on it - ‘DNA - Rook - DO NOT CONSUME, INSURANCE POLICY PENDING’.
“Hey when did you get–”
“It’s like a passport. Are you gonna get in there or what?” The massive crocodilian, Ace, gestured with her snout toward the entrance for new arrivals. Unlike her tentacled companion, she was looking forward to the start of the trials - and to seeing this prick get the snot beat out of him. Or maybe, on the off-chance that this guy was actually as good of a fighter as he said he was, he might actually bring in some money for the crew.
“Just remember,” added Gus, “the gravity is different here than in most places. We’re held to the surface just fine, but there’s a bounce to it, any force is exponential.”
“Yeah yeah I got it” And Rook half-skipped down the hallway just to play with the gravity. “Hey, keep an eye out for me from the stands!” And he was gone.
“Hell yeah, let’s get a seat.” Ace grabbed Gus’ head in one clawed hand like a crane game claw gently squeezing a plush and ran off to the stadium seats. “This oughta be real good.”
They passed by a poster advertising this week’s main event: “THE GRIND - Watch your favorite deadeyes compete to grind newcomers for the most points! Bloodsport guaranteed or DOUBLE your TKTs back!” A banner was slapped over it saying “FINAL DAY!”
“Ace, what did that poster say?”
“Eh don’t worry about it.”
The elevator arrived to deliver him to the newcomer trials. The automated voice gargled “NEXT.”
“Huh, that was fast.” And, after noting the blood on the platform, Rook climbed onto the springy elevator. It raised him up the chute into the open air stadium, the night sky sparkled with stars above and the crowd was already going wild.
Something had already worked them up.
Rook looked around at the crowd, an assured smile on his face - his people. It didn’t matter that they weren’t chanting his name. They probably just didn’t know it yet. No matter, they would be cheering it shortly. Or so he thought to himself.
Until he caught sight of the massive displays over the stadium. It was himself. Red dots moved over his body. A sign behind him, above the elevator, read “FRESH MEAT DELIVERY”.
He turned to find a massive pile of corpses behind him. The newcomers who’d been in front of him in queue for the elevator, and the ones in front of them, and the ones in front of them. Gone. This had been the show for days.
From the stands, Gus started. “They’re just spawn camping?!”
Rook turned back and squinted in the distance to see 3 tall towers in the field, each with a sniper atop them. Three red dots centered on the bullseye on his chest.
One of the snipers chuckled to themselves. “Heheh. Yeah right.” Then trained the dot on the meat’s forehead instead. “Cute diversion.” Soon the other two dots joined the first.
The displays showed the various point totals, achievements, and standings of the three snipers before starting a countdown of 3 seconds.
Rook held only his sword in his left hand. What hope did a fencer have against nested snipers.
Before the countdown was up, he put his sword back in its holster, crouched low onto all fours, and at 0, launched himself into the air. Three shots rang out in the stadium and they all missed. Rook was now on top of the elevator, and used its springy momentum to launch himself even further into the air, to the top of the lowest tower.
The sniper, wide-eyed, had just enough time to be incredulous, before Rook’s blade entered their thoughts.
He kicked off the tower towards the next lowest one, sending it falling diagonally to the stadium floor.
The second sniper was in the middle of hastily reloading when they were lobotomized and their tower sent to the floor as well.
The final sniper managed to fire off one shot, which ricocheted off of the buckle on Rook’s bracer as he readied his sword and thrust home.
Rook balanced himself on top of the tower, and kicked the body to the ground. The stadium was shocked. Both Ace and Gus’ jaws hung open.
One lucky gambler out of a million was the only one to make a sound: “I…I won!! I WON!!!” They laughed like a maniac on the way to cash out.
Rook took a couple breaths in the silence, sheathed his sword, then raised his arms in the air.
The crowd erupted. Fanfare and confetti filled the stadium.
Three names were removed from the overall coliseum leaderboards. In their place was a new name: Savinien Rook. By virtue of taking them out during an official match, Rook gained the lifetime points of all three of them. On top of that, achievements started popping up on the screen:
FIRST-TIMER BONUS
HEADSHOT (x3 COMBO)
ARTFUL DODGER (x3 COMBO)
FLAWLESS VICTORY (x3 COMBO)
BROUGHT A SWORD TO A GUNFIGHT (x3 COMBO)
Multiplier upon multiplier upon multiplier brought his final score up to the top 10 list, instantly making him a champion. Before Rook would lower his arms, the shops at the bottom levels of the stadium were already selling be-bullseye’d shirts.
The numbers on Rook’s score were still ticking upwards when it was announced that there needed to be a series of confirmation bouts. It was, after all, still the final day of The Grind.
Rook reclined in a chair on the edge of the stadium field and Gus’ tentacles massaged Rook’s shoulders as it researched and printed out a report of the next combatant. Ace ripped the sheet off the roll and started at the top. “Alright, looks like they learned their lesson about having you fight gunmen. This one is called The Knight. He also swings around metal sticks, so you’re in good company.” And she showed Rook an ASCII representation of the guy’s sword of choice.
“Ah, saber.” Rook smirked.
“Looks like he comes from a long line of champions.” She snorted, “Got his points from his pater, and his grandpater, and his greatgrandpater, of course.”
Gus repeated, “Of course. They pulled him out of holiday just for this fight.”
Rook’s eyes brightened. “So he didn’t see the first fight then?”
“More than likely.”
Rook’s smirk deepened and he reconfigured his swordbelt.
Gus closed its terminal and printer before inquiring, “Ace, did you know it was Grind Week when you brought Rook here?”
“Uhh…” Just then the massive stadium bell gonged signaling it was soon time for the next bout. “Ah dang, well, break a leg Rook!” And Ace grabbed Gus by the head again and left the field.
A blonde man in knight’s armor stood before Rook as the displays above counted down to the start. “You know, I was enjoying a perfectly nice holiday in the Sidereal Reeves. I’d love for you to not take up too much of my time so I can get back to it.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make this worth it.” He extended his rapier out in a proper salute, and the knight returned it.
“At least you possess some chivalry.”
Rook held a sardonic smile on his face. The countdown reached 0 and the two quickly traded thrusts and parries. A few steps back and forth, but it was Rook who was having to back up more.
Time for some playful banter.
Rook spoke up first. “I’m new to greater universal society by the way.”
“Be welcome! A shame you won’t get to experience it for much longer.”
“I don’t plan on dying today.”
“And I don’t plan on going easy on the one who interrupted my holiday.”
Rook parried one of the knight’s thrusts, but was still forced backwards.
The knight spoke up this time. “How long have you been ex-terrestrial?”
“About a week now, in the common time.”
“Interesting, you must have practiced fencing on your home planet then!”
“My whole life.” And the tip of Rook’s blade just missed the knight’s head. The crowd was cheering the two on.
Rook continued, “Everyone calls my sword a metal stick, seems to think it’s primitive. How’d you get to be a coliseum champion through swordfighting?”
“The same way as you, I’m sure. Through hard work, chivalry, and a bit of luck.”
“You sure you didn’t just inherit a massive amount of points from your daddy?” And the sudden thrust from the knight sent Rook jumping backwards. The stadium wall was getting closer and closer.
The knight scoffed. “I’ll have to take back what I said then. You don’t truly possess any of those things. Too lazy for hard work, not really an ounce of chivalry, and you’re almost all out of luck!” One more thrust put Rook against the wall. Gasps and cheers from the audience.
“Hey, I know this is weird timing, but by any chance, did you happen catch any of the fight I had that brought you here?”
The knight leapt into the air and lunged. “No, I was too busy enjoying the–”
“Good!” And Rook quickly switched the sword out of his right hand and into his left and expertly dodged and planted it into the knight’s un-helmeted head. The Knight fell to the ground.
The crowd went wild again. An audience member just above Rook in the stands let out a “yippee!” and dropped a crown of purple flowers onto his head.
Rook’s score continued to climb on the displays - generations of scores now added, and more achievements added multipliers, among them:
HEADSHOT
NON-DOMINANT DOMINATION
“The next one’s a doozy.” Ace read the dotmatrix readout. “It’s a giant mech named マイク 対戦.”
“Scuse me?”
“マイク 対戦 (Maiku Taisen)” she repeated.
“Ah. Anything I should know about it?”
Gus read from its terminal. “Unfortunately nothing on the networks about it except fan-made blueprints and speculation. Looks like it’s completely smooth metal all over, and the obvious weak points of the joints have been reinforced.”
Rook was perplexed. “How am I supposed to pierce something like that with my rapier?”
“I’m glad you asked!” Gus produced a cylindrical crate and opened the hatch to present its new creation to its new owner.
The new sword greeted Rook’s vision.
“An universál sword for an universál dude,” Gus said.
Rook gingerly picked up the sword by its handle, a pistol grip.
“I call her, Her Royal Highness The Penetrator. A microscopic spiral runs down her length, so that each thrust produces a laser-focused sound wave at the atomic level, disrupting even the densest atomic binding. Her tip is basically a siren telling everything ahead of it to get the hell outta the way. They don’t even realize they’ve been pierced until it’s too late.”
Rook was nearly drooling. “I think I need some alone time with her.” And the coliseum bell gonged. “Alas. The foreplay will have to wait.”
The crab-shaped mech stood at four times Rook’s height. One arm was a lance, the other a massive monkey-wrench-like claw. Its flat head and long legs were completely smooth, totally unassailable. Its computer-red eyes focused on Rook. As the displays counted down from 3, it let out a bassy autotuned roar of its name.
“マイク 対戦”
The audience cheered and chanted. “マイク 対戦! マイク 対戦! マイク 対戦!”
Rook crouched on all fours again, and at 0 launched himself into the sky. The crab stabbed with its giant lance, but too late, as Rook landed on top of the lance and ran up it to the crab’s head, brandishing his new sword. As he raised the sword to pierce the crab’s head, the monkey wrench claw hammered him, swiping him away. He clung to the claw though, refusing to let go. The claw made to squish him between it and the stadium wall, but Rook jumped atop the claw and made again for the head. This time the lance swept his legs before he could strike, and he nearly fell, but wrapped his legs around one of the reinforced connectors of one of the back legs.
Dangling upside down, he peered up at the crab’s belly and spotted a small sticker marking the refueling socket under the metal. He thrust upwards into the belly of the crab. HRH The Penetrator made it feel like butter. Hardly any effort at all. Against all reason, the sword was buried in the otherwise smooth metal carapace. He yanked it back out, and golden black fuel spewed from the newly formed hole, slickening the crab leg and dropping Rook to the floor.
The crab slowly sank to the floor as well, losing power as its lifeblood poured out of it, until is computer-red eyes flickered black.
Another stunned silence from the crowd.
Rook turned to them and raised his hands into the air, and they all cheered.
The bell tolled midnight, and Grind Week was over. A new record had been set, the confirmation bouts had been confirmed, and a new champion was soon to be crowned.
All in only a few hours.
Rook took it all in.
He didn’t hear the chime of a backup luminance charger behind him, siphoning energy from the stadium lights, nor did he hear Gus’ gasp. He didn’t see the eyes flicker computer-red again. He didn’t notice the wrenched claw reaching for him, until the sides of his skull were already in its grip and his feet left the ground.
“Ah!!” He tried to pull at the wrench squeezing his skull, hopelessly.
The pressure slowly grew as the crab sucked power from the stadium lights.
Gus shouted to everyone and to no one: “TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!!”
Rook was writhing now, screaming as it crushed, until finally he went limp and a second later his head exploded. His headless corpse fell to the ground.
An achievement on the display appeared: HEADSHOT just before the lights in the stadium went out.