A World Apart: Original Souls - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Speaking of jobs," Hendrix comfortably mused,"how's life been treating your protege, Geary?" She twirled a strand of dark hair, from her ponytail, with her fingertip.
His expression fell flat. "He's doing well. Taking a much needed vacation." The Draconian Chancellor smiled awkwardly.
The truth was that he didn't know what had become of Geary. The events surrounding the Pavilion disaster were still hazy for most. The ministrants at the school, the rest of the staff, the students, parents, and even Squadron members were all bewildered to what ended the struggle. Local police and the media questioned many people. However, no one could paint a clear picture to how it all concluded. But someone in the room had more answers than the average onlookers at the Pavilion.
"Baron," she motioned to the Arcan man standing at the back of her swivel chair, "please hand me that object I secured with you back in the vehicle."
He reached into one of many pockets on his black Squadron jumpsuit. He pulled out a relatively small two-p.r.o.ng device, with a blue handle. She advised him back in the car, to wear gloves before handling the tool. He put the same model of gloves on that her son used to climb the creepy stairs back at the abandon factory in Draconia. He put them on before she even attempted to place it in his care back in the car. He wanted her to know just how onboard he was. She took it from him and placed it on the table before her. Both Sebastian and Nate's expressions stiffened. She now had her answer to how deeply Nathaniel was involved in all this.
"I wonder if anyone would be silly enough to use this little thingy without the benefit of anonymity," as she spoke, she knew Cris's prints were on the tool as well. But he was already a fugitive, so if she had to further drag his name through the dirt in order to nail Sebastian... then so be it. "It does seem always that anonymity affords individuals a lease on their civility," she spoke in such a measured tone that the soon to be defunct Draconian Chancellor's lip quivered, so slightly.
Sebastian could not remain seated any longer. He knew exactly what this meant. Their meeting over this minor debacle was officially adjourned.
As Sena. Hendrix walked through the halls, back to the car- Sebastian stopped her. "You are quite the villainous delight, Silvia." He smiled widely, with a strange sense of sincerity.
"Are you certain that you're in a good mood? I wouldn't be if I were in your position," Hendrix's tone was saying; two can play this game.
"My dear, if you could stop me with that little dinner fork-like tool, then doing all this wouldn't have been worth it to begin with. But you'll find that this is just the appetizer of my ample consecration. And I think you should be by my side to indulge in the sweet nothings." He put his pale hand on her shoulder. She stood in front of him looking glorious and triumphant. Yet he felt like he was the one who was truly winning. Possibly winning her over, he thought.
"I'm wholly surprised that you would offer such a thing." She wiggled her shoulder away as she turned and walked slowly toward the large archway of the Parthenon. "Though still, I'm glad to decline." He followed behind her closely, like some lovesick schoolboy.
"Silvia, please don't be coy with me!" She turned back to look him in the eye. "Those imbeciles we were just consorting with are nothing like the two of us. We are of the golden age in Draconian strength. The younger generation of our home World is weak, but they are ours. We can mold our World into something magnificent... together!" his voice soared throughout the corridor. "We must eradicate the other Worlds and restore our dominance. Join me where we both belong. At the only two seats of power on the planet."
"Lah-de-dah, you are very enthusiastic and convincing when you want to be. But your duties as a Secretist might get in the way of all that? Likewise, that what-you-call-it thingy . . . Oh, yes! The Chain of Divinity. What was your link on the chain again?"
His expression darkened. Hendrix didn't know how a man that pale could look so shadowy and dark of countenance. More so of heart, but his eyes were darker glowing than her brown skin.
"I don't know where you get your information, but when I find out, there will be h.e.l.l to pay!" He tried to seem easy, but that facade rapidly deteriorated as she smiled with condescension.
She was now ready to indulge his sardonic side, but he wasn't in the mood. His face was tempered with madness as she spoke back. "Yes, I remember now, it's 'Severity,' right? You play the role quite well I might add to pot, old friend."
The first statement being a rhetorical question, so he needn't bother to answer it. He just walked past her toward the archway, as disappointed as ever. He actually thought he could sway Silvia Hendrix to him. He always wanted to while Conrad was living, still he had yet to waiver in his l.u.s.tful conquest of this unconquerable woman.
He looked back at her before he rounded the corner out into the atrium. "You'll regret playing these cards so early in the game, Silvia." If she hadn't seen it so many times before, when Conrad invited him over for dinner, his crooked smiled would have scared her half to death. "I'll have you know that I still have a few aces in hole."
His last words lingered as he disappeared to the outer perimeter of the Parthenon. She looked on and winced at the thought of having to interact with that extraordinarily sad man ever again.
Chapter 17:.
Game On!
May 17, 1002 ~ Daylight "Take your arc!" Vonczech tightly grasped the handle of the rod drilled into the dirt gra.s.s track. He knew that if he didn't pull hard enough, he wouldn't be able to start the race. He'd run right into the gla.s.s plate window caging him in his starter's booth instead of gaining the much needed lofty lead.
"Get set!" He was prepared. Though he didn't like Anvard, he figured it be easiest to do the rely portion of the games with his roommate. He was on the inter-school team last year, but didn't make many friends. The cliques in Levanta.r.s.e were airtight. And Vonczech is a jerk. So, it didn't make for an easy transition.
He agreed to work with Andy through phase three of the event. But after they retrieved the four rods necessary to form the Lightning Arc, all bets were off. They tested their skills, and decided that he should start the race. Anvard and he were about neck and neck for agility, but Andy had much better reflexes. That would come in handy during phase two. All Von had to do was win the first phase with his lightning speed. If he could manage that, then they would gain the rod hovering at the finish line. They would be one-step closer to forming the Lightning Arc. Just three rods from there, and then they'd turn on one another. They'd fight for rights to lift themselves out of the field, achieving Thunder. That was the goal after all, to lift yourself to victory. Von wanted that Thunder trophy, and he'd knock Anvard and anyone else into another dimension to get it.
The announcer who just yelled the, -'get set,' warning was preparing to start the race. He took a ma.s.sive deep breath, and shouted with dazzling enthusiasm into the microphone connected to the mounted speakers all around the Pavilion walls.
"THUNDER!!!!!!!" he shouted to spur on the compet.i.tors, and officially get this Levanta.r.s.e game underway. CRACK! Went the sound from the red flare gun, which shot out a second after his voice cut off.
Von grabbed the rod tight and pulled with all his might. The rod quickly detached from the ground, and the panel door in front of him ascended. He zipped out of the starter's booth and ran across the gra.s.s track like a beam of light.
The boy in track three wasn't so lucky though. Apparently, he didn't pull hard enough on the rod. It didn't budge, but he fully expected it to. His sweaty palms lost grip of it. It stuck to the ground like congealed gum to the bottom of a shoe. He ran straight into the gla.s.s door and was immediately repulsed by the impact. He had been kneeling like the other runners. The top of his head was rising to start the race around the track. But unfortunately, he was totally unaware that the door was still closed. When he hit the door, everyone in the restored Pavilion cringed when they saw his skull crack the gla.s.s while intently viewing the jumbo-screen monitors mounted everywhere. It didn't shatter, but it was definitely ruined. Both his head and the gla.s.s. It would need to be replaced, just like this kid's brain, if not for his padding. The thin layered helmet helped, but he was unconscious and out of the race before it even began. So... so much for a safety first approach.
"Yay! Go Von!" Anvard cheered Von on as he stepped up from below the track into the booth that his partner had just successively deployed from. He looked around the arena into the crowd from the clear gla.s.s booth. The track closed back beneath him, as he rounded his panoramic view of the spectators jammed into the stands. He noticed Emma and Claudia screaming, what he a.s.sumed to be encouraging words. But with Emma, you never really know. He wished that Emmy, and more importantly, Corinth, could have been here to watch him go for glory. But he knew how much they had gotten into Deaves over the last few weeks. Scheduling the game times was difficult considering Deaves had been so abruptly reinstated. Those two had an event of their own to get some glory out of.
The hand-off would be key as Von came around the track, a.s.suming he makes it without falling, he would have to hand off the team rod to Anvard. If Anvard grabbed it before he entered the booth behind him, his door wouldn't open, and they'd be disqualified for cheating. Getting that extra second wasn't exactly cheating anyone, but it was against the rules. If Von came in first place around the track, he would be given the extra rod to utilize during the third phase. That's if he decided to stick with Andy. And not try to take him out as soon as they started on the open field inside the center of the track.
Von came around like bolt of lightning. That was great for Andy that he left the others in his dust. Literally, he kicked up a lot of dirt while running around the gra.s.s track. This track was everyone's least favorite. Levanta.r.s.e was a long running sport in most of the eight Worlds. Like many sports that span different generations, it evolved with the technologies conceived since its inception. The gra.s.s field was the original. Then they added the rock, ice and water tracks. They all took a lot more ingenuity than the gra.s.s.
Though no track could surpa.s.s or measure up to the most recent installment. The gla.s.s track. This was the epitome of tech for the sport. The compet.i.tors wore levitation boots that allowed them to maneuver around the field in ways never possible on any other surface. This was everyone's favorite surface, but for today, the gra.s.s track would have to do.
The hand-off went over without a hitch for any of the remaining three teams. All eight Worlds were represented in each match. But the kid from Blanco, that ran into the gla.s.s-door of the starter's booth earlier, royally screwed his Imperativan partner. They were both knocked out by default, because his teammate couldn't carry their rod around the track. He never even stepped onto the track. Which made Anvard smirk. He secretly hated every Imperativan for what the team at his old school did to him.
The second phase is virtually the same as the first, except one minor difference. Minor meaning huge in this adaptation. The players can now switch tracks and knock each other out of the game. Walker wasn't exaggerating when he described this sport as violent and certainly dangerous. They wore pads all over, a cup and even had a weapon mounted to their arms. But they weren't enough to truly aid them. Like the Blancan kid showed, you can get seriously injured before the game even starts. Those thin helmets weren't nearly enough to prevent a concussion.
Anvard was far out ahead. This put him at a huge advantage, if he wasn't planning to steal anyone's rod. The Lightning Arc could only be formed if a player has collected four rods. There were two ways to win a rod, and Von already acquired one of them. The rest were supposed to be taken from opponents. This was construed to purposely lead kids into fights over the little white treasures. Those rods were the only things on any of their minds.
The players continued rounding the second lap around the large track. All behind Andy. He figured the third phase was the better place to start taking rods from other players. He'd use the gauntlet on his right arm to dismantle anyone who stood in his way. He was a master with that thing. That is why Von preferred that he run the perilous second phase.
He maintained his lead and pressed forward. He pa.s.sed the part of the track he'd seen his sister and Claudia cheering him from. He ever so slightly glanced up, and made an exciting revelation. Corinth and Emmy joined the party. Seeing Corinth's fresh looking face put him in a trance. He noticed the all pink collared s.h.i.+rt Cory wore in support of his favorite compet.i.tor. That being Andy, of course. The pink in Corinth's s.h.i.+rt matched Anvard's eyes, and the pink fish on his jersey. That animal being the Lirian insignia. It warmed his heart that Corinth made it to cheer him on. He figured that they both must have been knocked out of the Deaves compet.i.tion pretty early if they could make it here before afternoon.
Too many thoughts converged on him at once, and he lost focus. He didn't see a large stone laying on the track in line with his right foot. His green and orange runner's sneakers tripped over it, and he tumbled to the ground. Corinth covered-his mouth in shock when Andy hit the gra.s.s surface and skinned his face across it. The fall left a wave of red sc.r.a.pes across his dark tan skin. They weren't bleeding out, but would be soon enough without the medic.
Von's body tightened as he saw Anvard getting up, just to collapse again. He watched from beneath the track, looking into the monitor above his head. He stood inside the booth that he an Andy would share. That's if he could complete his lap around the track in order to move forward to the third phase out on the open field. Von was the only player who didn't need his partner to finish, because he already had a personal rod. The rod he won granted him access to the field alone, or with his partner. If no one else made it onto the field, he'd be the default winner. But no one liked being the default. Levanta.r.s.e is about overcoming, lifting one's self above and beyond all challengers. He'd get no congratulations for winning that way.
He wanted Anvard to make it. Not just for their team rod, but more so for his strength. He fully intended on working with him in the next phase, which tested the compet.i.tors might. He didn't know if he could steal the other player's rods without some back up. Unless they all turned on each other before acquiring the four rods needed for the Lightning Arc. Then it'd just be every man for himself. He kept willing Andy to get up, holding his hands together like he was praying for it. "Get up, dude," he mumbled under his breath several times until it finally came to be. Anvard stood up to a roaring cheer.
"Yay! Yay! Yay!" the crowd screamed in exaltation of his fearlessness. He was seeking no medic today. The entire stadium was electrified by his will to carry on. If only they had known why he fell in the first place, they might not be so supportive. He had all the time in the world to see Corinth. Yet, he just threw the game away in a moment's notice to catch a glimpse of his perfect face.
"Come on, dude, he's right behind you! Just run!!!" Von couldn't contain himself in the clear gla.s.s booths below the track. The other phase one players watched him screaming and shouting next to them. The booths were sound proof, so they only saw him kicking and widely opening his mouth like some sort a maniac. All the others turned to their monitors to witness firsthand what was freaking Vonczech out so much.
One man's trash-is another man's treasure. The remaining compet.i.tors viewed Anvard as a threat. Until now. Trevor, representing Velocidad, slammed his gauntlet into Andy's lane of the track. The fierce force generated from the gauntlet on his forearm broke the lane into pieces where he stood. Sending a shock wave reverberating down the track toward Anvard. The ground rose twenty-feet in the air. The track resembled the rock surface more than the gra.s.s at this point. Trevor wanted Anvard's portion of the Lightning Arc, so that he'd be that much closer to forming it for himself.
"That's right, Trev. Do it!" screamed Connor from Draconia.
He turned and looked to Vonczech in booth four. He stuck his tongue out, and threw up the peace sign. Sarcastically, of course. He wanted to destroy both Vonczech and Anvard. If his partner Trevor could take Andy out now, there would be no stopping them. That is, until they had to turn on each other. Only one individual compet.i.tor could achieve Thunder.
Anvard was trapped, hanging from the edge of a twenty-foot drop. The fall wasn't that far for a bouncy kneed athlete like himself, and it wasn't what scared him in any sense. It was the fate of the little white rod that kept him from just letting go. It was still on the rugged cliff that Trevor created. And Trev was on the way up to take his reward. Anvard struggled to pull himself up against gravity, but his sweaty hands kept losing grip. And the orange and green gloves he wore couldn't provide enough traction to maintain and overcome. Trevor cautiously navigated the narrow terrain. One foul move and the entire thing could collapse back down to the track.
"I've had my eye on you, pretty boy. But not for the reasons you'd probably want." Most students already knew about Anvard's feeling, but most didn't bother him with insults this far north. But Trevor was a special case. Still, jeers from him would be more compet.i.tion based than anything else."I knew you'd slip up. No one is as good as their reputation. And considering you got kicked out of the Imperativo school system, I'm guessing you actually sucked. No pun intended, dude. Ha-ha!" He laughed hard, nearly losing his balance, but he kept himself steady for now. He continued taunting Anvard as he closed in on the little treasure at the summit of the climb. Anvard could see the purple jaguar on Trevor's s.h.i.+rt. It looked ferocious enough that it too would eat him out of his chance for glory. Just like the jerk who wore the apparel.
"Get a grip, -dude!" Anvard yelled as he noticed the compet.i.tor from Hyperborean pa.s.s beneath his dangling feet. "If you fall, you're out of the race. And that person just went ahead of us both."
"You don't even know how to play the game!" Trevor shouted out, sounding like a mini-Sebastian. "This phase ain't about how fast you can move your feet around a track, it's about reflexes. The third phase doesn't even start until we get there, bud. I've got all the time in the world to take you out. So there's no rush whatsoever in my head."
"Are there any thoughts whatsoever in your head?" Anvard pondered aloud.
And he was right to question. Because Trevor had spoken too soon. He looked out at the crowd. He hadn't even realized how high up he was. An optical illusion made him feel as if he were leveled with people in the high-rise seats, and those beneath him started to look like ants. Twenty-feet wasn't nearly that high, but his fear of it was. His phobia of heights kicked in. What a dope! His vision went in and out. He cowardly dropped down to his knees, and started throwing up his breakfast like a sour moron.
"Ha!" Anvard chuckled as he made his last attempt for leverage. He swung his left leg over the rocky edge, and pulled with all his strength. Lucky he's so strong. He made it onto the top surface of the miniature mountain Trevor created above the track. Trevor noticed his triumphant rise, and went ballistic while chunks of undigested food covered his chin. He charged Anvard head on, knocking him to the surface of the mini-mount. Anvard used his left foot to kick Trevor's legs out from beneath him. He fell and b.u.mped his head, falling backward.
Anvard reached for the rod quickly. Trevor saw this as he refocused his vision. At that moment, he made a snap decision without thinking even the slightest sly bit. He slammed his thunderous gauntlet into the ground again. He felt the electric surge of energy that the mechanics induced, and everything around him came cras.h.i.+ng back to the ground of the track below.
Everyone looked on in absolute awe of the moment. As if it weren't enough to see the mountain being erected, they now witnessed it crumple to pieces. Back down to earth it crashed, and splintered into a million little fragments of its former self.
With the reflexes of, guessing a really fast fish, Anvard escaped most of the wreckage. The miniature mountain collapsed inward, but Anvard had already jumped s.h.i.+p, with the rod in hand. The twenty-foot drop was nothing compared to the amount of dust that got in his lungs. He coughed all the way around the track, limping like a wounded animal.
The medics wasted no time pulling Trevor's broken body from the ruins of his man made and man destroyed summit. Vonczech turned to booth two, and flashed a peace sign while sticking out his tongue. Connor banged his fist against the gla.s.s like the brat he was, as every compet.i.tor, but his teammate, came through for the third phase. With all the mishaps, there were only two teams left. And only four rods available. Just enough to form the Lightning Arc and win this thing.
"Didn't think you were going to pull through for a second there," Von said with a fake smile.
"Neither did I." Andy looked up from his crouched position beside him in their booth. His puppy dog pink eyes meant nothing to Von, as they smiled at one another. He brushed mounds of dirt and dust off of his shoulders, head, in fact, everywhere on his body.
While he knelt there, looking innocent and ready to move on with his teammate, Vonczech had seriously reevaluated the possibilities. He a.s.sumed for sure that the compet.i.tors from Draconia and Velocidad would be in the running. They were the ones he was afraid of. But these little wimps from Arco and Hyperborean didn't look so tough. They were a bit of a ways away, over in booth one. But Von saw how intimidated they were by Trevor's advances on Anvard. They were sitting ducks standing next to one another in their cozy little booth. He figured he could take them out with ease. After he stomped, an already injured Anvard, into the grounds of the open field. Where magik was no longer prohibited.
"Tighten your gauntlets gentleman and LADY!" the announcer made sure to recognize the girl compet.i.tor from Hyperborean. As he had forgotten to do so at different times during his broadcast of the first two phases for those who listened on radios and watch by tv. "The third phase is about to begin, people!"
The gauntlets were used predominately as weapons in the second phase, but in the third, they flipped the switch. They were commonly put to use for their defensive properties. They could deflect spells that students themselves weren't yet powerful enough to defend against. That's until the electrical circuit in them was fried. At that point, they would just be ugly, oversized, metallic finger-to-elbow gloves.
Though, there's no lethal magik allowed or capable, because the force field above the open field makes it impossible to cast any deadly or overly destructive spells. It was also there to keep any magik from striking the spectators in stands. If you even attempted a naughty spell, the alarms would sound. You'd be eliminated, suspended for four matches, and put on long-term probation.
"And, for those of you who only skimmed through this year's rerelease of the rulebook, I have a very important announcement." The announcer started up again as he flipped to the page he desired to quote the rulebook. "Once the Lightning Arc has been constructed, magik is no longer allowed."
"Boo!!! Boo!!! Boo!!!" The crowd heckled him vehemently. Corinth looked around at the people in the stands shouting out like animals. He had never been to an arena as ma.s.sive as the Pavilion. Only a few small baseball and basketball games with his dad. But nothing this epic before. He had never even seen Levanta.r.s.e live. Only on tv, at home with Criston, when his dad basically forced him to indulge.
"Do they want someone to fall off the arc and break their necks?" Corinth leaned over to ask Emmy.
She looked at him ominously. "Truth be told," she paused and looked back out to the open field enclosed by the track, "they probably do." That response hit Corinth in the gut as he thought of Andy cras.h.i.+ng down like that. He screamed out when he thought Anvard was trapped beneath the rubble with that Trevor kid. But that's nothing compared to the climb of the Lightning Arc. Achieving Thunder was no small feat.
The announcer pressed on through the showering chant of boos. "You will be disqualified immediately if you try to cast near a spell after the Arc is erected. Please note this change, and redirect your final strategies, if necessary." All of the remaining compet.i.tors already knew of this change, so they forged on in silence. Booths one and four began rising, and then the gla.s.s doors peeled back from the center. They were standing in front of a ramp that led up to the field. They knew nothing started until after they stepped foot onto the field and the ramp resealed.
Anvard glanced at Vonczech. "Still together?"
The green-eyed, pimpled faced, curly blond-haired jerk had the nerve to crack a smile. "Of course we are, buddy!" Von chirped, while patting Andy on the back like a friend.
Still, it came out all too cynical. Anvard heard the fakeness in his tone loud and clear. But he was already prepared to be betrayed by his roommate. After all, that's why he asked the question that Vonczech unwittingly answered, to begin with.
His pink eyes, dark tan skin, and black buzz cut hair made him look like a jumble of contradictions. His ma.s.sive toned arms, short hair, and rock hard jaw gave off an air of jockish masculinity. Still, his subtle voice and its patient tone paired with those puppy pink eyes threw most off. He was too beautiful to comprehend. And since he didn't have many affects to compliment his looks, it appeared as an O'natural beauty that emanated from within, but no doubt, showed on the outside too.
Without question they walked up the ramp, stepped outside, and into a roaring cheer. This was the final and most exciting leg of the event. The crowd knew that and showed their appreciation for the climax.
The ramp closed and the other team instantly started running for the rod that lay at the center of the field. This was the only other way to win a rod. It was there for the taking, but also marked the spot where the Lightning Arc was to be erected.
"Amateurs!" Von said with a smirk. "Going for the silver when the gold is right under their noses." Anvard wasn't sure where he was going with that, but he made sure he had his gauntlet clutched tight. "I'll deal with them," he said defiantly from Andy's side. His llave went into rotation quickly. "Stunner!" he shouted, but not at the expected targets. He redirected his aim at the last second, turning to his partner, mimicking the nature of the treacherous looking serpent on his Levanta.r.s.e jersey.
Anvard didn't just block it, he knocked it back toward its originator. Von was just as quick as Anvard though. He just barely rolled out of the way to his left. He got up on his feet and ran away from Andy, moving toward the back wall. He backed up against the resealed wall they just entered the field from.
"I thought we were working together, man!" Anvard said in a loud but controlled tone as he paced toward Von near the wall.
"I don't need you anymore, so what's the point in that."
Anvard wasn't shocked, but neither did he know what to do. He didn't want the others to get the rod at the center of the field, then they'd have two, and he had only one. Unless, of course, he took the one Von won in the first phase. He flipped his llave into the air like coin. "Nodus!"
"No!!!" Von shouted in dismay. He had no idea what the spell meant, but it wasn't in English, so it had to be bad. He wasn't used to dealing with people who knew so many spells in Maledictus. He couldn't block or break out of what came next. A series of wires poured out of the metal encasing that locked in the open field. They spiraled down from just above Von's head, backed up against the wall. They knotted up around his body so tight that he could just barely twitch an eye, let alone move a limb. They pulled him in tighter, strapping him down, arms spread against the wall. Bundled up inside the series of wires now, Von wanted to jump out of his skin. Anvard walked over to him with ease, and then s.n.a.t.c.hed the rod from between his tied up fingers. "Hey dude you can't leave me like this!" His green eyes had every sign of panic flas.h.i.+ng throughout them.
"And... why not?" Anvard asked without attachment to his words.
"I'm claustrophobic. I'll go crazy, please. Please, let me out!" He closed his eyes tight and hot tears poured out of them.
Anvard moved in close and waited for Von to open them back up. As he did, the man-boy in charge starting speaking with outright control. Staring, no, daring those green eyes back down to a closed position, as he dominated the betrayer. "Maybe you should have thought about that before you turned on me?" he said, and then walked away like he was taking a Sunday afternoon stroll through the neighborhood. Carefree and effortless, while Vonczech's eyes closed tight again screaming.
"No! You b.a.s.t.a.r.d! I'm going to peck your eyes out in your sleep. Don't close them tonight or you'll lose th-"
Anvard willed another wire to cover that dense trapped of his. He struggled and even cried some more, but silently this time around. Andy didn't bother to look back. He knew what it felt like to have claustrophobia, but this wasn't a game won by mercy. He had two treasured rods. Now he was on a mission to retrieve the third and fourth. He had every intention to win this compet.i.tion.
He drove his gauntlet into the ground, creating tremors all around the field. He wanted to intimidate the boy and girl team that continued to stick together. They simply removed the second prize rod from its spot in the ground. It was mounted inside, just like the one they started the race with. They had to pull hard to remove it. Melanie pushed her teammate, Esteban, aside and did it herself.
Anvard continued to close in on them while they argued about what to do next. Should they run or hold their ground near the Arc Depositor? They would need to be close by anyway, so Esteban voted that they stay. But Melanie thought that they should get far away so that they could make the jump once they got Anvard's two rods. Still, Esteban was certain it'd be a lot easier to simply climb the Lighting Arc and not try to complete the dreaded jump.
"How can we get the rods from him if we're so far away?" Esteban questioned.
"There's two of us and one of him. We can out maneuver him if we split up. We don't have to guard the depositor. He can't use it with two rods anymore than we can," she informed him with her know-it-all tone.
"How, Mel. How!!!" He was freaking out. Getting worked up because Anvard slammed his gauntlet against the ground again, hard. The vibration knocked them on their tailbones. Esteban reached around his backside to give it a much-needed tender rub. Melanie looked at him and frowned in disgust.
"What? It hurts! I'm sure you want to rub too, Mrs. Tight-tush." He played defense of his actions, while she was steadily thinking of their offensive plan.
"You take him head on, and I'll slip in from behind and s.n.a.t.c.h both of his rods while he's distracted."
Esteban would have thought that was a great idea. If only two people could win the compet.i.tion. But the reality was that they were both solo once phase three began. They chose to work together, but it couldn't last.
"So you want me to sacrifice myself while you run off with all the rods and form the Lightning Arc!" he screamed at first, then calmed himself quickly. "Not going to happen, snuggle bear." He edged closer to her with a smirk.