Chapter Text
Zanka ran her fingers over her headset. She had been training for the past month. Come up with every strategy, planned for everything that the opposite team could do. They’d never gone against the Raider’s before – it was their first challenge. It was a practice round, it wouldn’t be livestreamed, more of a courtesy challenge, really. So that the teams could get to know each other, figure out who they were up against before their official match in a week. Zanka simultaneously loved and hated the courtesy matches. While it did help her plan more efficiently for their future games, she hated the small-talk beforehand. What had surprised her, however, was that the Raider’s seemed to have the exact same thought process as her. They hadn’t asked about meeting in a lobby first, with PvP turned off. Aside from confirming their appearance today, they hadn’t said a word.
“I bet they’re nervous,” Riyo kicked her feet up on the table, swirling her headset around her finger carelessly.
Zanka silently agreed. A professional team that knew they were skilled would show their good sportsmanship and greet them. No respectable team behaved like this.
“You’re too sure of yourself,” Enjin gripped the back of Riyo’s seat and tilted it backwards ever so slightly, just to give her a start. “Don’t let your guard down because you think the Raiders are scared of you. They might be using their time effectively and strategizing still.”
The silent part of that statement was loud: like you should be too.
“What do you want us to do? We know nothing about the Raiders,” Riyo grumbled.
“Are they a new team?” Rudo decided to chirp in, having been quiet most of the afternoon. It was only his third match ever with the Cleaners. An undoubtedly gifted player, he just needed the practice.
“Semiu couldn’t find anything on them, aside from their rankings in previous matches.” Zanka held her headgear close to her chest. Almost battle time. “They only started showing up this year.”
Enjin smirked. “Probably wanting to get as much practice as they can in to qualify for the Winter Royale.”
The door to their lounge cracked open. Semiu poked her head inside and cracked a small smile. “It’s go-time.”
The map had been decided at random. Zanka had watched her laptop screen, headset held just above her head, holding her breath and praying for a good map. She could fight in any map, but some worked better for her. Especially with her Lovely Assistaff. Close range was ideal, but if the area was too enclosed, it made movement difficult. Caves, for example, would be a terrible selection for her. So, when the arrow landed on Abandoned Warehouse, Zanka felt that today’s match was a for-sure win for the Cleaners.
She fastened her headset over her head and lay back in her chair. Her least favourite part of the Royale’s was entering and exiting. The sharp pain in the back of her eyes, that made her feel hyper-aware of her teeth. The ringing sound in her ears, and the way her heart would speed up as her senses were transferred to a digital realm. Not every person could handle the physical stress of being placed into the Royale, which made the game a very in-demand sport to watch. Viewers enjoyed placing their bets on, not only who would be the winner, but who they thought would be badly injured and be put out of commission for the next round.
Zanka clenched her hands into tight fists and bit her lip. It was only five seconds of agony, but the five seconds felt like the longest five seconds of her life every time she did this. The pain shot between her eyes, her breath was taken from her lungs, and it was over.
Her avatar stumbled for a second, as she tried to refamiliarize herself with her second body. A cold wind rushed over the back of her neck, jingling her earrings. The quickest way to get back into the swing of things with an avatar body was the same as sleep paralysis – wiggle the fingers and toes. As she did that, she felt her thoughts slowly configure themselves in her mind and unravel out of the knot they’d twisted into during their travel.
“Oh man, Rudo,” Riyo laughed behind Zanka. “You good? You look awful.”
There was the sound of vomiting a second later.
Zanka wrinkled her nose, before turning around to face her two teammates. Rudo leaned against the edge of the building on shaky legs, while Riyo covered her mouth and tried to hide her sputtering laughter. He was still getting used to it.
“Bad Pixel-Trip, huh?” Zanka walked over to Rudo and patted his shoulder. “You’ll stop doing that eventually, don’t worry.”
Rudo didn’t respond and kept his eyes downcast.
“So, we splitting up or what, Team Captain?” Riyo grinned.
“I’m not the Team Captain, stop calling me that.” She did have a plan, though. “Let’s try and avoid splitting up while we head into the building.” Zanka did a quick twirl, to be certain there was no-one nearby. “I think the game spawned the Raiders downstairs, probably the bottom floor. We got lucky with having the high ground, but it won’t be of any use to us.”
“’Cause there’s no way the Raiders will come out from the warehouse. They’ll stay down there to lure us in.”
“Exactly.”
Rudo stepped away from the edge of the building and wiped his mouth on his forearm. “Couldn’t we wait up here too and try to lure them out?”
“We could do that if we wanted to waste time.” Besides, Zanka and Riyo both knew that Rudo and his lack of experience with the Royale made him more susceptible to Pixel Psychosis. If they stayed in-game for too long, things could get lairy for Rudo quickly, which would make him more of a hindrance if the Raiders decided to attack. Neither of them said that, though. They didn’t want Rudo to feel like a burden. He wasn’t, of course. Just a rookie.
They all nodded. Zanka reached her arm over her shoulder and detached her Lovely Assistaff from the holder on her back. She felt it vibrate in her hand, slowly coming to life. Nothing felt more like home than having her own soul in her hands. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
‘I got this.’
“Let’s get going.”
The warehouse was musty. Dust tickled their noses, and twice, Zanka had wrapped her hand around Rudo’s mouth to keep him from sneezing and alerting the Raiders of their position. Somewhere in the distance, a leaky pipe dripped water. Weird, Zanka had played this map plenty of times before and never recalled hearing that. Must have been a new update.
They had traversed down to the fourth floor now, and there was still no sign of the Raiders. Zanka grimaced at the idea of having to walk all the way down to the first floor. If the Raiders had any experience with the map, they’d know better than to drag the fight down there. Half of the building was caved in, and the debris lay at the bottom. Huge chunks of wall and ceiling lay in the middle of the floor, which, while it was a great cover from any firing-range weapon, was a hindrance when not fleeing. The floor was unstable, too. Zanka avoided that floor when she could, because she had the sneaking suspicion that there was nothing else below the first floor aside from a pixelated abyss. Falling into that would be such a pain.
The stairs usually creaked, but Zanka knew exactly where to place her foot to make no noise. She moved down the stairs with grace, as though it were a dance of sorts. The other two copied – with less delicacy. Third floor, now, and still no sign. Zanka crept towards the middle of the room, where a gaping hole gave them a dim view into the next few floors. She crouched down, one hand balanced on the floor beside her, and peeked down into the hole. Squinted. Focused extra hard, as though that would help her vision.
Nothing.
“I don’t see them, they’re probably hiding.”
“Oh, you think?”
A weight hit Zanka’s back, and she found herself hurtling towards the first floor. Arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt someone’s breath against her ear. Rudo and Riyo’s screams became distant as Zanka and her attacker fell through the third floor, second floor – first floor! Shit.
Idiot! Before they hit the ground, Zanka tried to gain some control over the situation. Rather than shielding herself from the impending collision with the floor, she twirled her Assistaff in her hand and reached behind herself. Whoever was clinging to her like a koala didn’t seem as though they had any intention of letting go, and Zanka would use that to her advantage. Her left hand caught the other side of the Assistaff behind her, and she pressed down. The move demanded some stretch to reach around the person behind her and pin them to her, and her shoulders burned with the effort.
Her teeth clenched. Impact in five.
Four.
Three.
The body behind her twisted.
Two.
She was going to land on her side – not her face!
One.
Zanka screamed in agony. Assistaff dug into her arm, crushing it against the floor. Her left arm had no choice but to let go of the stick because of the angle they’d landed in. Desperate, her fingers stretched out, and tried to capture the staff back, but it was just out of reach. The mysterious weight wriggled an arm free from Zanka’s waist. A piercing sound followed. Then a burning sensation in her lower back. Warmth trickled out and dampened her uniform.
“That was real cute of you, holding me tight like that.” The weight released Zanka. Finally. She could act now, fight back. End the fight quickly. “Were you worried I would hit my head on the debris? Man, that really spoils the fun. ‘Preciate it though.”
‘I can’t move.’
Pixel Trip? Seriously? Now of all times? Zanka hadn’t had one of these in years.
‘Wiggle your fingers and toes, idiot. You’re fine.’
“Panicking?”
The weight revealed itself. Or, rather, herself. She crawled over Zanka’s paralysed body, long and lithe. A panther circling her meal. Big grin and bright, amethyst eyes. She leaned in close to Zanka – close enough for Zanka to smell whatever shea butter product she’d used.
“Feeling kinda useless?”
Her hand wrapped around Zanka’s wrist and raised it. If Zanka had any control, she would have pulled all her weight with that arm – bashed her head right into this girl’s smug face. But she couldn’t. All she could do was watch as the woman flopped her arm around like a Raggedy Anne Doll.
The woman brought Zanka’s hand close to her face. From behind Zanka, she revealed her other hand. A large, wolverine-esque contraption wrapped around it, dripping with blood. “This here is Mankira.” She ran the blades along Zanka’s arm, applying a practiced amount of pressure that avoided slicing her skin. “You can thank her for your catatonic state. And you can call me Jabber.”
‘Jabber’ leaned in close, until her nose was inches away from Zanka’s own. Tapped the claws of Mankira against her teeth. Tap, tap. The sound of a dripping pipe.
“I thought you’d be more of a problem to fight against. I’ve seen your fights before. I was real excited to go against you.” She frowned. “What a let-down.” Jabber backed away. Stood up, then used her foot to kick Zanka onto her back.
Lovely Assistaff was right there. If she stretched her fingers out, she’d be able to grab it. Fight back. But ‘Jabber’ was right. It wasn’t a Pixel Trip – something that Jabber’s mortal instrument had done had caused her to become completely paralysed. She couldn’t even move her eyes. Stuck staring straight ahead. Eyes wide and fearful. Anger bubbled inside her stomach.
“Hopefully you’ll actually try and get better before our official match, Zank-a!” Jabber crouched down. Used one of Mankira’s talons to flick away a strand of her on Zanka’s face. Ran them down the bridge of her nose, dug dangerously into her skin as she travelled down her neck, before stopping at Zanka’s sternum. Then, without any effort whatsoever, she stabbed the blades deep.