Ben had never watched a duel at eye-level before, but it was a sight to behold. There were no stands around the outdoor arena, not even an incline. Ben and Caroline simply stood a dozen feet away, watching as monsters twice their size clashed. On the other side of the arena, Grayson Wright and Inspector Kobayashi talked and occasionally stole glances at Sparrow fighting Lightbreaker. Several Inspectors roamed around, acting as referees.
Not more than fifty feet separated Ben and Grayson Wright. Ben had never imagined he'd be so close to the greatest pilot of all time.
"I'm worried about Renee," Ben said to Caroline. "I think she's still talking to Diana."
"Why not just tell her?" Caroline said. Tell her about Cam.
Ben knew he should, but he'd kept it a secret for so long already. And who was to say Renee would even believe him?
"It should be a last resort," he said.
"Ben. She's no longer a kid. If she chooses to stick with Centium, fine, but she needs to know the whole picture."
"Why don't you tell her?" Ben said, harsher than he meant to. Caroline lowered her gaze.
Maybe Renee's in the right, Ben thought. Maybe Diana is a good person, and killing Cam was just a gang protocol. Maybe she never killed Cam, and that was all a near-death hallucination.
"Sorry," Ben said.
"Why did you lie to her in the first place?" Caroline asked.
I was lying to myself. Part of me wanted Diana to be as good as Renee thought she was. Part of me still does.
But what Ben said was, "I don't know."
Caroline put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll win this thing, and we'll never see Centium again."
Ben felt no reassurance, but he nodded. "I'm sorry you have to deal with our shit."
"It's not your fault."
As the duel went on, Ben and Caroline were joined by Renee, Ishaan, and Sangeet. They barely talked, eyes glued to the battle. It was impossible to tell which mech was winning. Caroline had not shown Sienna Renee's pictures, but had given Ishaan and Marvin Ninth Gen and Centium Prime's photos to study.
After ten minutes, Sparrow's dual-bladed polearm was lying in a broken heap at the edge of the arena. Lightbreaker thrust an entire fan of daggers into Sparrow's stomach. Sparrow pivoted and slammed the opponent into the ground, going down as well. Lightbreaker expanded its dagger-fan, severing Sparrow in half at the waist.
Ben's heart fell to his stomach. Was it over?
But then, Sparrow's lower body went autonomous, clamping the other mech to the ground. Hoisting itself up on one arm and several rocket boosters, Sparrow grabbed Lightbreaker's face with its free hand.
Then Lightbreaker's lights went dark. Sienna had won. As her mech rolled off of the other, Ben saw a spike jutting out from Sparrow's palm. It must have pierced through Lightbreaker's helmet, straight into its Core.
Ben, Caroline, Renee, and Sangeet broke out into cheers. Ishaan clapped, though his smile was thin. That had been their most confident matchup. There were still two more.
Soon, the others were back in the tent, frantically preparing for the next duel: Ishaan versus Ninth Gen. Ella had joined them, leaning against the table like she was Ishaan's right-hand woman. Ben and Sangeet eyed each other and silently agreed that this was a good time to pitch their plan.
Since Ishaan was near-certain to lose, the outcome of the three-round duel depended on Sabersong versus Centium Prime. Marvin had never fought Centium Prime; in fact, he had never faced a top-fifty mech besides The Everlancer, and Sparrow if you chose to count their scrimmage.
"We go with Ella instead," Ben said. "She knows how to beat Centium Prime, and Diana won't be prepared to fight her."
"There's no rule saying who the pilot has to be," Sangeet added.
Caroline blinked. "Ella has never piloted Sabersong. Marvin lives in the mech and he knows it inside out. He'll be way better."
Renee nodded, and all eyes turned to Ishaan.
"I'm with you two," he said, looking at Ben and Sangeet. "Sabersong can't be that much different than Immortal Ignition. We swap out Marvin's consciousness for Ella and we'll have a higher chance of winning."
"Glad someone remembers how good I was," Ella said.
"You're not that good," Ishaan said.
"Shut up, seventy-third place," Ella said.
"The thing is," Caroline cut in, "we can't just move Marvin's chip out. We embedded him when we designed Sabersong. It's either the whole Core stays or goes, and we don't have another Core."
The room fell silent. Ben looked at Ella, who had quickly lost her air of confidence. Would he entrust Marvin's life to her?
"We should talk to Marvin," Ben said.
"No, we can't do this," Caroline said. "Marvin should have control over his life." Renee raised her hand in agreement.
"Exactly, so we talk to him," Ben said.
"And convince him to forfeit his own life?"
"He'll decide for himself," Ella said. "We give him the facts and nothing else and we let him decide."
"Anything anyone says will be biased."
"Do you really think he'll win against Centium Prime?" Ella countered.
"That doesn't have to do anything with it."
"Renee, do you?" Ella asked.
Renee stared at the table, deep in debate with herself. She believed no, but was morally against the alternative.
"There's a thousand ways we can prevent Marvin from dying," Ella said. "But there really aren't that many to stop Centium from taking Renee and Ben."
Ben looked at her in surprise. He hadn't thought she cared about that.
"We'll go to Marvin and tell him that I have experience fighting Centium, then let him decide from there," Ella continued. "That's it."
Caroline pursed her lips. "Not we. Ella, I want you to talk to him alone."
Ella frowned. "Why?"
"Because he doesn't like you. The only reason he'll agree is if what you say makes sense."
-----
Through Gammagrade's cameras, Ishaan observed his opponent. Ninth Gen was a tank, twelve feet tall and sporting four arms, each carrying a different item: shield, sword, spear, and some sort of spring. There were rumors that Grayson Wright, the pilot, spent less time outside than in the Bessmer chair. That he had been born in a lab, augmented to be the perfect pilot. It took a superhuman to win Mecha Realm at fifty years old—his ninth win.
Yes, he's very impressive, Ishaan told himself. But here, he's just another opponent.
Ishaan had chosen this matchup himself. He had been studying Ninth Gen lately. Not as a fan, but as a competitor. He watched Grayson's duels relentlessly, absorbing every single habit, every single error, every single killing strike. He'd spent the last few hours looking at Renee's photos, illegal as they were. He had a good idea of what to expect.
For the last ten years, Ninth Gen had been undefeated in the regular season. Eight times out of ten, it had suffered its first defeat in Mecha Realm, either in a four-v-one or against one of the top dogs: Immortal Ignition, The Everlancer, or Sparrow.
If Ishaan defeated Ninth Gen here, he would be remembered forever. The odds were slimmer than a sheet of paper, but he couldn't help but hope.
The fight started off promising. Even though he couldn't for the life of him find a crack in Ninth Gen's armor, Ishaan defended well. His heart pounded and his reactions were more instinctual than normal, but he still had the mental capacity to keep track of the enemy's patterns.
However, after five minutes, Ninth Gen began upping the pressure. Ishaan switched off his analytical brain. He'd trained enough, studied Ninth Gen enough. Now he just needed to fall into a rhythm.
At first, it worked. He saw things before they happened. He sidestepped attacks that would've killed him months ago. He even landed a few inconsequential hits.
But then Ninth Gen found a window and severed Ishaan's arm. Ishaan dove out of the way of another attack, grabbed his arm, and held it in place of the cut. Electricity sparkled and the joint mended itself. All that voltage in his backpack-battery was being channeled to keep those wires connected.
I'm still thinking. Stop. No one else has trained as hard as you in such a short period of time; fighting should be second nature.
A coolness ran through Ishaan's veins, and his vision sharpened. His heart hammered so fast that it seemed to stop.
The next few minutes were like a dream. He danced around Ninth Gen, simultaneously in and out of his mech. Out of the whole battlefield. The duelists were like puppets strung to his fingers. He wasn't one with the robot; he was one with the fight itself.
I could've destroyed Centium Prime, Ishaan realized. All those hours of training from sunrise to sunset had paid off, and it had taken a challenge like this to unlock it.
Ishaan deflected a swipe of Ninth Gen's sword and severed its arm. He remembered going to bed, trembling from a raging headache. He remembered syncing with Gammagrade again the next morning.
It was worth it.
Ishaan stepped down on Ninth Gen's spear, cut it in half, then sliced off the corresponding arm. Two left.
He remembered the audience at Mecha Realm chanting that he was a fraud. He remembered the guilt that had consumed him as he wondered why he had been the one to benefit from Marvin's death.
Never again.
He dug both chainsaws into Ninth Gen's shield, pressing it against the mech's body. Ninth Gen backed off, reassessing the situation.
The moment Ishaan ran after it, he knew he'd made a mistake. That burst of excitement had caused him to return to his mech, and Ninth Gen fell out of his control. A simple lapse like that was all it took.
Ninth Gen grabbed his chainsaws, forcing them to stop spinning. Then it ripped both of his arms from their sockets. The next thing Ishaan knew, the opponent's shield was barreling towards his face. Everything went black.
Ishaan disconnected from the Bessmer chair and his eyes flew open. For a moment, he retained that feeling of bliss, that realization that he'd had the best fight of his life. Unfortunately, it quickly dissipated once he saw Caroline running towards him. Dread took its place.
He stumbled out of the chair as she reached him.
"What was that, Ishaan?" she asked, eyes wide.
Ishaan stammered for a reply. An awakening? Pure luck?
"Why didn't you go against Centium Prime?" Caroline said. "Were you expecting to beat Ninth Gen?"
Ishaan shook his head. "That was a fluke," he murmured.
"No, that was incredible!" Caroline said. She cringed. "I mean, good job. But…"
She trailed off, and Ishaan let the end of the sentence hang between them. It doesn't matter. The three-round duel was tied one-to-one. Although expected, he had still failed.
"I'm sorry," Ishaan said. "I would've fought Centium Prime if I knew." He looked past Caroline into the infinite blue sky and the stretch of grass below. "Or maybe I did, and I just wanted to fight Ninth Gen. Tell Ben and Renee I'm sorry—"
"Don't say that," Caroline snapped. "They're shook 'cause of you. I'd say our odds are pretty high."
"They're shook?" Ishaan said.
"That's right." Caroline pointed a thumb behind her shoulder. "I'm gonna go get ready. Ella's probably talked to Marvin by now."
She walked off, and Ishaan couldn't help smiling. Diana Kane had expected an easy victory, but there was no doubt she had gotten nervous when Ninth Gen's second arm hit the floor. Maybe they did have a chance.
"I'll join you in a minute," he called after Caroline.