Chapter Text
The new Legend had been here for a few Games. She didn't get any breaks between them, like the rest of them. Her entrance had been explosive, it stood out as the first in quite some time that a non-competitor had died in the Arena. Ash remembered the poor sap, falling to the ground, no jump kit to slow him. He had been alive when he’d landed near her; snapped spine, neck running a deep red and missing several layers of skin and muscle. It was a pitiful thing to look at, which is why she had put him out of his misery.
He was the first bystander casualty since the arrival of the other Salvonian, now that Ash thought about it. Actually, that incident was the new one’s fault too. She was the one who shot down the grenadier’s ship, the one who blasted holes in King’s Canyon, the one who rained down fire and wreckage onto a large crowd.
Now she’d gone and nearly destroyed Olympus. Ash didn’t think it a coincidence the entire place happened to relocate mere minutes after she arrived. It seemed to be this one’s calling card; destroying the Arena, causing mayhem everywhere she went, leaving disruption and chaos in her wake.
“Eugh.”
The simulacrum lifted her foot out of the line of fire as the former warlord spat onto the floor directly next to her. If Ash could grimace, she would have. Instead she stared, dead-eyed and expressionless as Maggie wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
“Do you mind?”
“What, ya some kinda germaphobe? Pretty sure I could spit in your mouth and you’d be just fine, bot.”
“Oookay, off to a good start,” Mirage said, shuffling his feet as he looked downward. The countdown to drop had already started.
3
As if you have a mouth anymore…
2
Deep breaths. Calm the senses, silence the voice.
1
Storm Point was new to the warlord. It was vast and maze-like between its imposing towers of granite, and Ash would’ve expected her to acknowledge her inexperience by following along. She’d be wrong. As soon as the floor dropped out from under them, Maggie split off, bellowing a war cry as she barreled toward the Launch Pad.
Mirage didn’t spare time for whatever dispute Ash might have, given she was the Jumpmaster. Not wanting to be left down a man, he followed Maggie’s trail, with the simulacrum begrudgingly joining him soon after.
One by one they came down upon the docks that lined the Launch Pad. Maggie landed first, and she wasn’t alone. Two men had arrived there with her. Newbies like her, and unfortunately for them, she was the first to open a bin and secure a weapon.
BLAM!
A Flatline dropped bloody to the ground, never having gotten the chance to fire before its discoverer dropped dead.
“Attention. First blood.”
Maggie lived up to her name, Ash supposed. That’s what she was known for; her violence, her ruthlessness, her wanton hatred of anything Syndicate. That would explain her kicking the corpse she’d just made. It seemed to have an effect on the teammate too, who now seemed to second-guess whether or not he was going to attack.
“Well, come on then egg, I ain’t got all bloody day.”
All he had was a P2020, and a name that nobody would remember after this match-unless he took her down. Then everyone would remember.
His eyes darted behind Maggie and back again with renewed confidence. Ash and Mirage were closing the distance to assist their teammate as she prepared herself for a duel.
But Maggie didn’t seem aware of the one coming in from behind, the one coming at her with a hatchet while her teammate did the distracting. Ash, however, could see. In a flash of blue static the bot threw out a snare, binding the assailant as Maggie put a Mozambique round in her own opponent’s head, crouching low as a pistol round flew past her head.
“Player 21 eliminated.”
“Shit!”
The newcomer cried out as her legs were bound to the ground. Maggie noticed her, now, and she had nothing but a melee weapon to the warlord’s shotgun.
Before the Salvonian could finish her off, Ash came flying in through a rift, sword at the ready. The opponent she’d snared barely had time to turn her head before it was rended from her shoulders.
“Player 19 eliminated. Squad 7 eliminated.”
“Coulda done that myself,” Maggie shrugged, reloading her shotgun.
The simulacrum didn’t bother with a response as she plucked the Flatline from beside one of the corpses. Porcelain fingers flicked a bit of blood from the hilt, and before their rather slow third could fully process the scene, Ash had already picked their next destination.
“Where d’ya think you’re going?” Maggie stopped her, pointing up the hill toward the Stormcatcher. “This way will give us the advantage. High ground, better shots, better use of me drill.”
“This way will give us better cover and more time to loot until we are ready to strike,” Ash replied.
“What makes you think you’re the leader here, dolly? Last I checked, I’m the one with more kills.”
“You’d do well to listen to your betters, human.”
“Tch, the cockiness of this’n. I was a bloody warlord. I led whole armies into battle, you think just because you’ve been here longer-“
“You were caught.”
“Yeah? And you were killed. So who’re we trustin’ here?”
“I’m just gonna be over here, looking for a gun, don’t mind me,” Mirage chuckled.
“Hmph. How would you know anything about-“
“Oh please, don’t try to lie to me. You think I don’t know how simulacra work? You all get murdered one way or another and then your sad little employers bring ya back.”
“Actually she died as a robot too, I think,” Mirage looked up from a loot crate, Carbine in-hand. “I mean we put the robot version back together so I assume…oh she’s looking at me like that. I didn’t say anything, I’m not even here actually.”
At that Maggie cackled. “So ya died twice? And you think you should be calling the shots to keep us alive?”
Ash didn’t have an answer for that. She didn’t quite care for this one and that sentiment grew stronger the more time she spent with her. The callous way she had destroyed the Arenas before they’d even met, the disgusting way she carried herself. The hubris, that damn, stupid laugh. Worse was the fact that Maggie’s laugh wasn’t alone; there was another one coming from inside Ash’s head.
“There’s your mistake, warmonger; I don’t particularly care if you stay alive.”
“Yeah? Good. You can go off on your own. Haere rā.”
“Uhh-“ Mirage considered giving input for a moment, but Maggie had already grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and was dragging him along whether he liked it or not.
The trickster gave a weak smile and a shrug to the simulacrum glaring their way, hoping Maggie would somehow protect him if that one turned hostile. It was probably more likely she’d just join her, though.
You’re just going to let her take control like this?
Ash wasn’t entirely sure she should stop her. She should’ve guessed what a difficult personality this one would be the moment her dossier came in. Tactically, she couldn’t afford to start a scuffle within her own squad, and Maggie seemed to know it. She was the only one willing to risk a fight.
“So be it.”
Ash knew by now when to pick her battles.
Pathetic, you can’t even stand up for yourself, can you?
She wasn’t about to waste time arguing with the voice, let alone her teammate. Ash was calm, collected, efficient. Certainly not a time-waster, and certainly not one who would let something as petty as pride cloud her judgement. That was a human fault.
Taking orders from such a flawed creature, however, was starting to weigh on her.