The Nexus Games [litRPG] [Chps 22-23]

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—Chapter 23—

—Offspring—

The first screen played a recording of Kellan…

Inside of a limo. The same rusty, neon-lit ride that Sen had tried to summon for them to ride around in. The camera filming was mounted to the roof, and pointed straight at Kellan’s bemused face.

That was the Eye of the Arbiter, Kellan thought, the realization hitting him hard.

The huge theater screen, hovering around the football field, changed the recording to show Kellan and Mavis in front of the flower shop. An Eye of the Arbiter had been recording him from across the parking lot, mounted to some sort of streetlamp.

Kellan watched himself slam the open Pestbyter with a rock, cracking the red crystal inside.

“Wow,” Bitso said over the microphone, his voice filled with amusement. “What an unbridled act of aggression! This sad sack just attacked the Pestbyter right in the metaphorical groin. What a low blow.”

Booing filled the dark audience of the stadium, their disapproval creating a rumble all its own. When the Arbiter shifted his weight on the edge of the pit, Kellan felt the tremor of his weight and power.

The video continued.

Mavis drove a truck around the side of the building and slammed into the Pestbyter going as fast as she could.

“What’s this?” Bitso asked as he grabbed at his blindfold. “Did our sad sack have an accomplice?”

The irritation from the audience spread like wildfire. Were they calling for Mavis’s head as well? Kellan crane his head around, trying to find someone to reason with.

There was no one.

He was in the middle of a gigantic field, watched over by a colossal machine dragon, held in place by two hovering sphere robots, while a lunatic news anchor narrated everything like he was a ringmaster in a circus.

Who was there to reason with? Who could Kellan beg to spare Mavis?

The enemies of logic were all around him.

“What’s that?” Bitso said as he glanced up at the massive dragon. Hot steam gushed from the Arbiter’s mouth as the dragon exhaled. Bitso smiled wide. “Don’t worry, ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between! The Arbiter has decided that the accomplice needn’t be questioned. She wasn’t the one who dealt the killing blow.”

Had the Arbiter spoken? Kellan hadn’t heard any words, just the low groans of gears and pistons. Could Bitso interpret what that meant? Did the audience understand the Arbiter? Kellan wasn’t sure.

Then Kellan watched himself use a garden hoe to repeatedly strike the Pestbyter. Over and over. Until the Pestbyter finally stopped moving and gushed out its three arcana. Then the screen showed Kellan kneeling over the machine and absorbing the arcana for himself.

“Oof,” Bitso said, tugging at the collar of his suit. His eyes were still blindfolded, yet he reacted to every detail on the screens. “That looks pretty cut and dry. What a blatant rule violation. This chump must want to die about as much as I do, am I right?”

Bitso motioned to the Arbiter.

With his breath trapped in his chest, practically burning his lungs to escape, Kellan waited, unable to exhale.

Then the floating screens flickered and flared to life with another recording.

“What’s this?” Bitso moved around the field, the spotlights following him. “We have more footage the Arbiter wants us to see?” Bitso placed a hand over the microphone and “glanced” in Kellan’s direction. “Did you kill two Pestbyters or something? Look, I don’t want to tell you how to commit suicide, but just putting a bullet in your own head might’ve been more efficient. I’m just sayin.”

Confused, and still mired in dread, Kellan watched the screens with rapt fascination.

The video played a scene from the back alleyways of the futuristic warehouse.

Kellan spotted the black wolf man attacking the two kids, Hua and Twi—the boy with the tumor, and the girl with teeth so misshapen, he could even see them in the recording.

“Leave our f-family alone,” the boy, Hua, shouted.

The audience in the football field quieted as everyone watched Kellan step out of a narrow alleyway. Kellan lifted his cursed rifle and fired, striking the wolf. The resulting fight wasn’t something Kellan was proud of…

The beast wheeled on Kellan, knocked his gun away, and then proceeded to rip him apart. Kellan molded the metal into the werewolf’s body, and managed to prevent his regeneration, but most of the fight involved Kellan on the ground, bleeding to death.

Even at the end, crimson wept from most parts of Kellan’s damaged body as he staggered around.

“P-Please,” Hua said on screen. “Don’t hurt our family.”

Kellan shook his head and waved his hand. “Get out of here. Before some other murderer shows up. Hurry.”

The Eye of the Arbiter had been recording the fight from above, at an angle Kellan hadn’t seen. The eyes… They really were everywhere.

Watching.

Listening.

Kellan wanted to glance around the football stadium to see if he could find any more, but he knew it was currently impossible.

The video continued on until the kids ran over and handed him a single arcana. But right before they handed it over—and it became golden—the video ended. Blip. No more footage.

The Arbiter exhaled another mountain of hot steam, his machine-body clanking from the movement of gears.

Bitso, awash in the mist for a long moment, chuckled. “Wow, what an interesting turn of events.” His voice boomed across the silence crowds. “It seems that even the Arbiter can feel sentimentality for his children. That’s right, folks—most forget that the denizens of the Nexus descend straight for the Arbiter himself!”

Descend from him? Kellan thought, his eyebrows knitted. They’re his offspring?

For a short, hesitant moment, Kellan glanced up to stare at the Arbiter. The dragon had his head angled in Kellan’s direction, steam rushing between the cracks of its sharp fangs. Was the beast trying to speak to him?

Kellan couldn’t understand, and he quickly glanced away, hoping the dragon didn’t take offense to the staring.

With a showman’s flair, Bitso lifted a hand into the air and smiled. “The Arbiter will allow this sad sack to compete in the Nexus Games! What a sad turn of events—but at least it’ll be interesting for the rest of us!”

The cheering that rose to meet his statement hurt Kellan’s ears. He finally exhaled, his lungs threatening to burst. With deep breaths, Kellan felt his tension and anxiety leave him, though not enough to feel comfortable. The Pestbyters kept their hold on his arms absolute.

Bitso strode across the grass and walked over to Kellan’s side. His sleek suit didn’t match his bloodstained blindfold, nor did it complement Bitso’s sharpened molars—the news anchor has a sharp smile that looked similar to a shark’s.

Now, when he wasn’t so panicked, Kellan managed to see the information of his Blitzkrieg Analysis.

Name: Bitso, Unwilling Servant to the Arbiter

Race: Human

Magics: Storm, Fate

Rank: A, A

Armor Rating: ---

Health: 7

Stats: Concealed

Abilities: Concealed

With a twist of Bitso’s hand, the Pestbyters released Kellan.

Bitso moved the microphone away and leaned in close. The smell of his expensive cologne filled Kellan’s nose.

With curious pokes and pats, Bitso felt up Kellan’s upper arm. “Trembling still? A tough guy like you? That’s adorable.” He chuckled and poked at Kellan’s shoulder. “You’re filled with disgustingTyranny Worms, though. You’ll regret that once you’re in the can. A pity.”

Kellan managed to calm himself, but not enough to regain his full composure. The crowds out in the shadowy stands were still filling the arena with noise. Were they angry that Kellan had gotten to go free? Or were they intrigued? Kellan couldn’t tell.

“Listen, between you and me, the Arbiter doesn’t care that much about his mutant children—they’re a little past their expiration date, if you catch my drift.” Bitso smiled wide, his face inches from Kellan’s. “But the Arbiter is impressed you managed to get some gold arcana. Good job. He really liked that. Keep it up, and the Arbiter might even call you back here for some prizes, you get me?”

Kellan didn’t know what to say. He stared at the other man, still reeling from the dread of the over-the-top trial.

“Oh, and if you ever find me outside of an Oasis…” Bitso sighed wistfully. “Would you mind killing me? I’ve got sixty arcana for you if you manage to plant several bullets of your cursed rifle right between my eyes. Good deal, right?” Bitso patted Kellan’s upper arm. “I won’t even fight back. It’ll be amazing for the both of us. I promise.”

“I…”

“Just think about it. And why do you look so confused? Like an envelope without an address.”

“Can I… even still register?” Kellan whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the Arbiter’s machines and the shouts of the audience. “Time’s up.”

“Ha! So punctual. Don’t worry about it, sad sack. You’ll get your chance to jump in the blender. The Arbiter has given you his blessing.”

Before Kellan could reply, Bitso brought the microphone back up to his mouth.

“Do you have any words for us, sad sack?” His voice once again boomed across the stadium. “Something to instill fear into your competitors? Or maybe to entertain the masses watching at home? Something insightful?”

Bitso practically poked Kellan in the face with the microphone—like he couldn’t see, because of the blindfold—but Kellan was still confused on the issue.

“Merry Christmas,” Kellan said into the microphone, literally unable to think of anything clever to say.

The response from the audience was mixed. Excitement. Anger. It was incoherent. Kellan couldn’t tell what had upset them.

“Huh,” Bitso said. “I’m not familiar with that phrase. Is it a thank the good stars I’m not dead saying from your world? Merry Christmas indeed, am I right, sad sack?” Bitso slapped Kellan’s again, and then pointed to the far end of the field—beyond the bloody crater and to the metal double doors. “Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

Kellan stumbled one step, and then managed to turn around and head for the doors. The heat of the overhead lights beat down on him worse than summer sunshine. He was already sweating by the time he moved twenty feet away.

“Next up, we have this unruly girl! A real degenerate, if you ask me. Play the footage!”

More cheers. More rumbling.

Kellan stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. The floating screens played footage of the girl with the copper scales and tail. She leapt from one dilapidated roof to another, clearly searching for something. The camera didn’t have a good angle—it was on a light pole, far from the lizard-girl.

With claws on her hands and feet, scurried over the roofs. Her jeans and jacket combo restricted some of her athletic movement, like she was accustomed to the clothing, or as if they were too small.

Then a Pestbyter showed up on the screen.

But it was injured and cracked… Sparks flew off the machine in regular spurts. It barely spun through the air, creeping toward the lizard-girl. She froze—like an animal caught in headlights—but when the Pestbyter attacked, its laser hit a nearby building, breaking some bricks and actually damaging itself with falling debris.

The girl then leapt forward and attacked with her claws and fangs, biting at the red crystal inside the open sphere of the machine. That was the last of its health, apparently. It collapsed shortly afterward.

The girl had barely done anything.

Kellan turned around, waiting to hear the decision. She doesn’t deserve death for that.

“What a bizarre series of events,” Bitso said with a laugh. “This Nexus Games is going to be more fail videos than epic duels at the rate we’re going. Or maybe just a series of one-sided beat downs. With men like Brenner Hawke around, you know we’re going to have a bloodbath!”

The audience laughed, cruel, dark, and manic.

Bitso motioned to the Arbiter. “What say you, Lord of the Nexus? Has this punk sullied your beautiful realm?”

The crowds went silent as they waited.

The Arbiter turned, its gears and pistons grinding with hatful metallic sounds. But the dragon didn’t turn his attention to the girl—he faced Kellan.

Bitso whirled around, smiling wide. “What’s this? Sad sack stayed to watch the death of his competitor? Good news!The Arbiter said you saved two of his children, so he’ll let you decide the fate of his punk!” Bitso rubbed his hands together, more blood staining his blindfold, turning the white fabric a dark red.

More spotlights homed in on Kellan. He shielded his eyes, but it was still entirely too bright to see.

Bitso walked over to the lizard-girl. She was restrained by two Pestbyters, her arms held above her head. With wide eyes, she glanced over her shoulder to get a good look at Kellan, her whole body trembling.

Bitso yanked her left hand from the grip of the Pestbyter. “What’s this? She’s part of Team 89? Yikes. Losing a member this early in the games is a terrible turn of events! How hilarious!”

More laughter.

It was starting to grate at Kellan’s sanity.

He stepped forward, his breathing ragged. “Let her go,” he shouted. His voice barely penetrated the cacophony of the arena.

But Bitso heard.

He immediately stopped laughing and turned to face Kellan. “What was that, sad sack?”

“Just release her,” Kellan said. “If I get to decide—that’s what I want. I want her to go free.”

The crowds obviously hadn’t heard his decision yet. They continued to laugh and cheer, like they might finally get to see more blood.

Bitso stepped forward, his smile waning. “She’s your competitor. Surely you want to have an advantage against her team, don’t you? That’s just good sense.”

Kellan couldn’t even deny that. It probably was good sense. But he really didn’t know. He didn’t know the details of the Nexus Games, or what was expected of him—or the lizard-girl—or anything else going on. All he really knew was that he didn’t want to watch her get smeared across the football field like the Ren Faire guy had.

And if saving the two kids had paid off for him, perhaps this would as well?

“Just let her go,” Kellan said. “That’s what I want. I don’t care who she is.”

The Arbiter gushed more steam onto the field. But instead of doing anything further, he slid back into the enormous pit he had emerged from. His exit left a wake of wind, disturbing the floating screens and even the Pestbyters.

The pit remained a black void with occasional smoke wafting up from it.

The audience didn’t understand—their confused shouts and questions rang throughout the football stadium.

The Pestbyters released the lizard-girl. She stumbled forward, clawing at the grass to get her footing.

Bitso held up his hand, trying to gain the audience’s attention. “Apparently, the Arbiter is sparing two people so they can participate in the games! What an unusual—and terrible—gift!”

The hot spotlights and frantic shouting still bothered Kellan. He turned away and jogged for the far doors, hoping to make it back into the halls of the AVU Palace.

If I’m lucky, I’ll never have to see the Arbiter ever again…

—Chapter 24—

—Brenner Hawke, Traitor to Humanity—

Kellan stood in the long corridor of the AVU Palace, his dread lingering.

The sounds of the stadium were muffled by the thick walls. The screens mounted to the hall walls were set to a low volume, creating an echoing effect. The cameras followed Bitso around the football field as he made declarations about the Nexus Games.

With little focus, Kellan hurried on his way, passing door after door. Each room sounded like a party was raging inside. He was desperate to find a place where he could gather his thoughts—somewhere calming and safe. Peace and quiet—for two seconds—that’s all I’m asking. It’s not much. Please, Baby Jesus.

As if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, someone shouted down the hall.

“Hey! Wait! Please!”

Kellan stopped and turned around. The lizard-girl with the copper scales ran to his side, her black hair stiff, like it had product—or it was coarse. The girl jogged to a slow and stopped next to Kellan, her amber eyes wide.

She was so thin, and only five and half feet tall. How old was she? Kellan had no idea.

The information his analysis ability provided flashed over his eyes.

Name: Levvy Torrin

Race: Rezrah

Magics: ---

Rank: ---

Armor Rating: ---

Health: 7

Stats:

Strength—2

Dexterity—2

Fortitude—2 [Scaled]

Charisma—2

Manipulation—2

Intelligence—2

Perception—3 [Keen-eyed]

Wisdom—2

Willpower—2

Abilities:

Personal—[Vampiric Fangs]—The rezrah can drain mana from a target whenever making a bite attack that deals damage.

Half-Mage Power—[Lucky]—The half-mage has fortunate events happen to them (once per fifteen minutes) in minor and major ways.

“I’m Levvy Torrin from Arkirn,” the girl said as she knelt on one knee and bowed her head. “Th-Thank you so much for helping me.”

Kellan motioned for the girl to stand. She got to her clawed feet, practically standing on her tiptoes. Her scaled tail swished from side to side as she stared up at Kellan—now silent and waiting.

“I’m Alex Kellan,” he finally said, realizing this was an introduction. “You don’t need to thank me. As a matter of fact, forget this. I… I need to go.” He turned on his heel and resumed his walk down the hall.

Levvy didn’t say anything. She followed Kellan as quiet as a shadow, sticking close—only two feet away. When Kellan glanced over his shoulder, she met his gaze with a smile.

“Merry Christmas,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes. “You celebrate Christmas?”

“W-Well, I thought it was a phrase from your country that meant you were grateful to be alive? Isn’t that what Bitso said?”

Kellan ran a hand down his face, already regretting his statement. He didn’t reply to the girl, hating the fact she was still following him. “Aren’t you a little young to be part of the Nexus Games?”

“I’m twenty years old, long considered an adult in Arkirn,” Levvy said, slight irritation in her voice. “And I didn’t want to take part in the Nexus Games… I was accidently sent here during the Conflux. I was happy living in Arkirn, learning the art of silversmithing. This world… It’s unkind.”

Twenty years old? Kellan could barely believe it. But then again, she wasn’t human. Were rezrah just smaller as a race? He had to assume that was the explanation.

“The Conflux brings random people here?” Kellan asked.

Levvy nodded once. “That’s how half the people in the games got here. They had to join, or be marked an enemy by the Arbiter, and hunted down by Pestbyters and Justices. I… I had to join.”

Before Kellan could say anything further, a door opened, almost striking him. Kellan jerked to a stop. Levvy stopped next to him, practically running into his arm.

Two individuals stepped out from the palace room, followed by a waft of smoke and the thump of heavy music. Once the door shut, the song became muffled, and the smoke died off.

Kellan recognized the two men.

Nasir Warren the Butcher. The seven-foot-tall bald biker with the lip piercing. He was distinct in a thuggish way. And he has entropy magic, Kellan recalled, still trying to gather all his chaotic thoughts.

The other man was Jace.

No title. No other information.

He had been the thug who had given Kellan his dog tags.

Jace was Kellan’s height, with pale skin and short, dark hair. He wore an honest-to-god metal pauldron on his shoulder, over his leather jacket. And Kellan would’ve said he was “normal” except for Jace’s machine-eye. The center of the eye glowed with a blue LED, like it was some sort of camera.

“Kellan,” Jace called out, half-smiling. He stepped closer, smelling of smoke. “I saw the whole trial on the viewscreens. The Arbiter’s judgments have never been that dramatic before.”

Nasir snorted. “What’s wrong with you, Jace? We shouldn’t be associating with sad sack.” Then Nasir laughed and shot Kellan a glare. “Right? That’s your new name now? I bet ya ten arcana that Bitso makes it your title once the games start.”

Kellan gritted his teeth. While he didn’t know what was going on half the time, he really didn’t want Alex Kellan the Sad Sack as his title.

“You cur,” Levvy said, a hiss on her voice as she stepped around Kellan. Her copper scales were flaring as she moved closer to the two men. “Alex Kellan is a noble knight. He deserves your respect.”

“What’s that, girlie?” Nasir asked, straightening to his full and impressive height. He was practically two feet taller than the girl. “I saw your pathetic fight on the viewscreen. You’re weak. Just a half-mage. Watch your mouth before it gets you killed early.”

Kellan placed a hand on Levvy’s shoulder before she mouthed off again. She glanced up at him, her eyebrows knitted. When he pulled her back, she allowed him to step forward.

Kellan was prepared to just walk by, but Jace stepped in his path, his machine-eye focused on him. “Wait. I wanted to speak to you. About the games. About… if we met out on the field.”

Nasir scoffed and then rolled his eyes. “Jace, you’re making a mistake.” He held up his left hand. The number 77 was inked just below his knuckles. “We’re going to win. We got the lucky number.”

“Lucky number?” Kellan asked, on the verge of laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly. The last person who won had the number 77.” Nasir shoved his hands into his jean’s pockets. “And the last winner before that was on team 37, so I submit to you that the 7 is the luckiest part.”

Jace rubbed at his own hand. He, too, had a black 77 marked on his body.

Although Kellan didn’t really want to make plans with random competitor teams, he was curious about Jace. He had given Kellan his own dog tags… and he did look familiar.

“Are you me?” Kellan asked, finding it an awkward question. “As in, are you Alex Kellan the Defector? Me from another dimension?”

“No.” Jace rubbed at the back of his neck, turning his intense eyes onto the floor instead. “Look, you’ll recognize yourself the moment you meet him. You two share the same… appearance.”

“But not the personality,” Nasir said with a huff. “The other one is way more intimidating.”

“I’m not here to talk about the other you.” Jace took a deep breath. “Look—”

A chill rushed down the corridor. Nasir and Jace both grew still and silent. They turned their attention to the end of the hall—opposite the doors to the field. For a long moment, they just stared.

“He’s coming this way. Shit…” Nasir opened the door to a random room and slipped into the smoke and music, not a single word about his disappearance.

When Kellan turned to ask Jace, he caught his breath.

Jace had vanished.

No sound. No indication he had left. Just… poof. Gone.

“You should be careful,” Jace’s disembodied voice said. “I think he’s coming to see you specifically.”

Kellan couldn’t see Jace—was he invisible?—and Kellan whirled around, his gaze searching. Who’re they afraid of?

And then, when Kellan turned around to speak to Levvy, he noticed she had left as well, the sounds of a door clicking shut the only evidence she had fled. What’s going on? Kellan took a step backward, wondering if he should leave the corridor as well.

It can’t be worse than the Arbiter, he reasoned. And this place is an Oasis… No one can do any violent actions here. Why would the others be spooked?

Someone rounded the corner at the far end of the hall.

It was a man.

Just an ordinary man.

Well, perhaps not ordinary. He wore cargo pants, military boots, and a tight tank top, his muscles on full display. When the man strode forward, it was with the swagger of someone so confident in their abilities. He moved with the confidence of a fighter, and the casual speed of someone who just didn’t give a damn.

Kellan waited, tense and uneasy. No matter how much he just wanted to rest, the Nexus wasn’t about to let him.

The other man… When he drew close, the chill intensified. It matched the man’s cold exterior. He had sandy blond hair, swept back, with dark eyes that could disturb the dead.

The stranger smiled, but he had all the welcoming warmth of a morgue.

Kellan’s eyes flashed with the analytical information he had become accustomed to.

Name: Brenner Hawke, Trailor to Humanity

Race: Human

Magics: Body, Metal, Entropy, Travel, Meta

Rank: A, S, S, A, D

Armor Rating: 15 + 10 Shielding [Metallic]

Health: 55 [Cyborg-Enhanced]

Stats:

Strength—20 [Cyborg-Enhanced, Iron Grip]

Dexterity—18 [Cyborg-Enhanced, Pin-Point Accuracy]

Fortitude—20 [Cyborg-Enhanced, Tireless]

Charisma—5 [Controlling]

Manipulation—11 [Dark, Occult]

Intelligence—8

Perception—14 [Cyborg-Enhanced, Keen-Sighted]

Wisdom—6

Willpower—11 [Ambitious]

Abilities:

Personal—[Overconfident]—The mage can never hide their basic information, but if they are ever in combat with an enemy mage who does, the mage’s physical stats (strength, dexterity, fortitude) are doubled.

Hex—[Wielder of Arondight]—The mage is capable of wielding the legendary laser sword, Arondight. As punishment, the mage must kill one of a sentient races every seven days (the counter starting after each death), or the wielder dies himself.

Hex—[Apex Growth]—The mage gains double the arcana from all his kills. As punishment, the mage suffers from mana burn (mana use burns them, dealing damage equal to mana spent).

Hex—[Exarch’s Power]—The mage gains an immunity to a magical energy type (fire, ice, lightning, laser, phantasmal, entropy, or phase) and becomes to all mana burn effects. As punishment, the mage’s mana pool is cut in half every time they rank to S in a magic.

Hex—[Connected to the Sea of Chaos]—The mage’s mana pool is doubled, and they gain access to the unknowable magics, capable of ranking like them as any other. As punishment, the mage’s soul cracks each time they use a C rank or higher power (and after an unspecified number of cracks, the mage’s soul shatters, killing them).

Kellan could barely get through all the information. How many hexes does this guy have?

But he knew the name. Brenner Hawke. The one Bitso seemed excited for.

“Here you are,” Brenner drawled, no hurry in his voice. He slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad I managed to find you before anything happened.”

Kellan glanced over his shoulder, surprised by the desert around him. Not a single soul was around—except for maybe Jace, who was invisible—but otherwise they were alone. When he turned back to Brenner, the man was giving him the once over.

“You have a lot of hexes,” Kellan said. “Is that why you’re in the games?”

“I’m in the games to get to Zenith. The hexes are just to acquire the power necessary to guarantee my victory.”

“Acquire the power?”

“That’s right. That’s why people agree to hexes in the first place. For the power—some sort of magical item, ability, or great boon the hex offers.”

Kellan slowly nodded, absorbing the information. Husker’s hex allowed him to kill people. What did Xiang’s hex do? And Brenner’s… Brenner had so many, he might as well be drowning in them.

“I saw your trial on the viewscreen.” Brenner smirked. “And how you fought that rennic in the alleyway, defending the two inbred kids.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It was pathetic. You almost lost to a C rank chump. That’s not like the Alex Kellan I know, which means… You have no idea what’s going on here, do you?”

Kellan crossed his arms, unsure of how to respond.

“It’s okay,” Brenner said with a lazy chuckle. “If anything, this is my fault. Xiang summoned you here because she can’t stand losing to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Brenner held out a hand, like he wanted to shake Kellan’s. “I’m Admiral Brenner Hawke, with the United-Earth Defense Force.” When Kellan didn’t take it, Brenner returned his hand to his pocket, no hint of irritation or offence. “Listen, Xiang and I have a long history, and I apologize that you got caught up in all this.”

“Oh?”

“Let me make it up to you. You haven’t registered for a team, correct?”

Kellan lifted an eyebrow. “Not yet.”

“Then join mine.”

He caught his breath, stunned by the offer. “Are you serious?”

“We already have five members—” Brenner shrugged, “—but I’ll make an exception for you. The other Alex Kellan is a good friend of mine, after all.”

Kellan mulled over the statement. He glanced at Brenner’s hand. Sure enough, he had a black 42. He was on the same team as Kellan doppelganger.

“You… want me on your team?” Kellan asked. “You just said my fighting was pathetic.”

“You’re rather weak. But you don’t have to worry about that. Haven’t you seen the numbers? I’m favored to win the games.”

Brenner waited, like he wanted some sort of reaction—or perhaps a congratulations. Kellan didn’t offer either. He just wanted the man to get to the point.

With a sigh, Brenner continued, “Listen, if you do what I say, and keep your head low, you might just live long enough to win the Nexus Games with me.”

“Lucky me.”

Brenner smiled, though it wasn’t anything genuine. “It’s better than joining Xiang’s team. She’s a snake—a manipulator. I guarantee she won’t even make it to the third round. You have a much better chance with me.”

Kellan rubbed at his arms, the chill in the hallway worse than before.

“Let me get this straight,” Kellan said. “You and Xiang had a falling out?”

“That’s right. She thought she could win the games without me, and now I want to make sure she regrets every decision that brought her here.” Brenner motioned to Kellan. “And if I convince her old flame to join my team over hers—for a second time—it’ll be an amusing blow to morale.” When he smiled, it was more wicked than Kellan had seen before.

“So, you want to recruit me to get back at Xiang?” Kellan huffed and forced a laugh. “That’s embarrassingly petty.”

Brenner’s smile didn’t wane. “Petty? No. It’s thorough.”

The venom in his voice seemingly came from nowhere.

Kellan tensed, like the conversation could become a fight.

“I can’t just beat her at the games,” Brenner said, his volume increasing a bit with each word. “Xiang and I had deal—and she broke it. So now… I need to break her. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically.” Brenner forced himself to lower his voice, his body tense and controlled, right down to how precise he blinked. “I’ll thoroughly make sure she regrets crossing me, and if you join my team, it will be yet another blow to her ego. She’d only have four members of her team, and she’ll be forced to recruit some bum from the streets.”

Kellan kept his arms crossed, his fingers digging into his arms.

Despite the fact Kellan wasn’t answering, Brenner continued, “And I already told you—if you join me, you’ll likely win the games. There’s no downside.”

Kellan smirked. “Look, I’ve known you for a grand total of ten seconds, and already I would prefer the company of a murderous clown. There’s so many red flags coming off you, I can barely see.”

Brenner didn’t react. He didn’t say anything—his facial expression didn’t change. But when he spoke, it was slower and vicious. “Is that right?”

“I don’t know Xiang very well, but what I know of you, I’m not interested.”

There was a prolonged moment of silence.

Then Brenner said, “I’ll give you one more chance. And think about it, Alex Kellan. I know you. You’re a solider. A man who wants to do a job—and he wants to do it right. Xiang is going to use you. You might not know for what, but I promise you, she’s not being truthful.”

Before Kellan could answer, Brenner held out his hand a second time.

“Join me, Kellan. I’ll introduce you to your counterpart, and we’ll discuss our path to victory. I promise you won’t regret it.”