The Nexus Games [litRPG] Chps 8-10

Hey guys!

More fun stuff. Hopefully you're all enjoying NaNoWriMo. I'm setting up my publishing business to accept submissions from others. Really looking forward to expanding the business and taking on new authors.

Here is some more of the litRPG I'm working on! Enjoy!

—Chapter 8—

—Arcana—

Kellan mouth-fished for words, unable to land anything. Then Mavis stepped around him, her head held high. “Aren’t you human?” She glanced between Nasir and the unnamed man. “Can you help us? Please.”

The bird-man flapped his wings a second time, his yellow eyes narrowed on Mavis. He said nothing, but Kellan suspected he was offended with being left out of Mavis’s plight. Perhaps he had once been human? Kellan had no idea how most fantasy creatures worked.

“They’re outsiders,” the unnamed man said, his attention never leaving Kellan. The single glowing machine eye constricted and dilated, like a freakish camera lens.

It unnerved Kellan, but he never allowed it to show on his face.

“I know they’re outsiders,” Nasir growled. “Outsiders are the easy pickins.” He motioned to Kellan. “You aren’t going to need that arcana. You’re not even gonna make it until the end of the week.” With a laugh, Nasir returned his gaze to Mavis. “So, maybe you two should help me… And not the other way around.”

“Kellan and I just want to get home,” Mavis said. “Is there some sort of arrangement we can make? Maybe you can take us to a portal? Or something similar? And we can give you whatever you want?”

Nasir snorted and then laughed once. He pulled a tin container from his pocket—something the size of his palm—and Kellan stepped around to Mavis’s side, fearing an attack. Instead, Nasir withdrew a black cigarette from the container and then lit it with a built-in lighter on the side of the tin.

He tucked it all away as he took a drag on his smoke.

To Kellan’s surprise, his eyes flashed with the same reticle of information.

Magical   Item [Consumable]—Hane Cigarette

The mage gains +2 perception and   mana recovery while the hane remains in the mage’s system. Highly addictive.

“What’re we doin’ with these two?” Kin asked. He scratched at where his wings were attached to his body. “We shouldn’t take too much time. We have to register for the games.”

“I want more arcana,” Nasir said as he exhaled a line of smoke. Then he eyes Kellan. “I can’t take you two home—that’s not in my power.” He cracked a smile, the smoke dangling on his lips. “You’re not gonna find anyone with that ability, either. It’s rare for a mage to have travel magic.”

“So, you can’t help us?” Mavis asked.

“No.”

“Then… we’ll just go.”

Nasir took another long drag on his smoke. “No. You won’t be doin’ that either. Either you hand over the arcana, or I’ll carve it out of you.” Nasir snapped his fingers and flashed Mavis a cruel smile. “But since you’re human and I’m human, I’ll make sure it’s as painless as possible, how does that sound?”

The bird-man laughed, Nasir chortled—but not the machine-eye-guy. He remained quiet and serious.

Kellan had already made deductions about the arcana. It was used as fuel or power, and it was obviously valuable. A random man was going to kill him for it. That was always the measure of something’s value—how much trouble was someone willing to endure in order to get it. And clearly Nasir would go through a lot.

But Kellan didn’t know how to give it away. And if he asked, he’d reveal his ignorance on the matter. Was that the best course of action?

“Well?” Nasir asked, his breath laced with smoke. “I’m not going to ask again.”

The motto of the US Special Forces was: De Oppresso Libe. It meant To Free the Oppressed. Kellan thought of it whenever someone tried to manipulate him through force and fear. It angered him more than normal.

“Let’s say I decided to give you my arcana,” Kellan said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “How would I do that?”

He couldn’t avoid asking. He had to know.

“Hold out your hand,” Nasir said, smiling. “And you can make them appear in your palm. Just hand over all your arcana, and we’ll graciously leave you alone.”

The machine-eyed-punk tightened his hands into fists. He seemed tenser than before, his whole body stiff. But Kellan didn’t know what to say to him.

Mavis glanced up at Kellan. For a brief moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Mavis had a look of worry—perhaps she wanted him to submit?—but Kellan couldn’t bring himself to go down without a fight. He furrowed his brow, and she must’ve known his intentions.

Mavis stepped aside, her hands shaky.

“I’m not going to give you my arcana,” Kellan said.

Nasir exhaled a mouthful of smoke. “Oh? What’s that? But we’re both human, right? Shouldn’t you be helping me?” He chortled at his own sarcastic joke.

“I’m not just human. I’m American.” Kellan offered the man his own snide smirk. “And I’m the most dangerous kind of American—the kind who knows how to kick ass.”

He hadn’t meant to sound like a bloodthirsty thug, but Kellan couldn’t help it. Nasir rubbed him the wrong way.

“What’s an American?” Kin asked, his feathers ruffled.

Nasir smirked. “It’s a synonym for dead man.”

Without warning, Nasir threw a punch. Kellan leaned back, dodging the blow. For some reason, the man’s hand was covered in a dark, shimmering energy. Although Kellan wasn’t sure what that meant, he could take an educated guess.

It was bad.

Nasir leapt forward, his hand outstretched. Kellan stepped to the side and tripped the man. It was a simple trick he had learned during his grappling classes—using the enemy’s momentum against them.

With a stumble, Nasir caught himself by grabbing onto the crumpled hood of the truck. Rust and rot spread from his fingertips, wasting the metal of the car away into fine dust.

The rot spread to the entire hood, slowly destroying everything.

Kellan caught his breath. What would he do against someone who could destroy a truck by simply touching it? A sudden realization struck Kellan—Nasir wasn’t going to “rough him up,” the man was aiming to kill him.

“Holy shit,” Mavis said as he stepped away, her attention glued to the destroyed truck.

Kellan held an arm out, trying to shield her from the rot-touch bastard. He hardened himself to the reality that he might not live after an attack like that. He grabbed his hoe off the ground, hating the fact he didn’t have his sidearm.

I don’t want to be in grappling range with this guy.

“Wait,” the machine-eyed punk said.

Nasir stepped away from the truck. He ran a hand over his bald head, and his tongue darted out to lick some of his lip piercings. “Why should I wait, Jace? These two are pissin’ me off.”

The unnamed man—now Jace—brought an unsteady hand up to his nose and pitched at the bridge. “You’re not going to believe this, but he’s Alex Kellan.”

Silence settled over the foggy parking lot. Then Nasir and Kin exchanged amused glances.

“It’s a coincidence,” Kin said. “Humans share names all the time. Parents name their children after themselves, like self-absorbed lunatics. This is just one Alex Kellan.”

“No.” Jace shook his head and then shot Kellan a hard glare. “It’s not a random Alex Kellan. He has the Descended of Zenith ability.”

The raven-man fluffed again, his beady eyes wide. Even Nasir seemed spooked, like this wasn’t the information he wanted to hear. He gave Kellan the once over, almost in disbelief. “No. Impossible. Him?”

“It has to be.” Jace shrugged. “That means he was probably brought here by someone intentionally. He’s not a standard outsider who just stumbled across during the Conflux.”

The three of them exchanged knowing looks. Kellan didn’t like that. When he glanced at Mavis, she lifted an eyebrow, like he might know what was going on. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone knew more than he did. It was frustrating.

Nasir laughed, his smile wide, showing off his sharp canines. Even his morals seemed more pointed than normal. “Oh, this is amazing. I can’t believe it. These Nexus Games are gonna be brutal.” Nasir turned his attention to Kellan. “You’re entering the games, aren’t you? You have a team?”

Kellan didn’t know how to answer. Sen had said something about joining a team, but Kellan wasn’t excited to be a forced participant.

“I’ve got some friends,” Kellan said, at least trying to imply that perhaps he shouldn’t be messed with. “I take it the three of you are entering?” He held his hoe close, ready to strike at the man’s head like a piñata if he got any closer.

“We’re part of a team,” Jace said, his machine eyes still scanning Kellan. “We’ll see you in the games, most definitely.” Then he hesitated, holding his breath as he reached into his jean pockets. He withdrew a necklace. Kellan recognized them as dog tags.

US military dog tags.

“I apologize for Nasir’s behavior,” Jace muttered. He handed the dog tags over. “We didn’t know it was you when we approached. Take these and… Try to stay safe until you raise your rank a bit. Gather more arcana. Learn some useful magical skills. You’re way too weak to be walking around alone.”

Too weak?

Kellan gritted his teeth, irritated at the comment. Despite that, he liked Jace. He seemed different from the other two. With a quick motion, he grabbed the dog tags and shoved them in his pocket.

“Thank you,” he said.

Mavis pointed to Jace. “How do you know Kellan?”

Jace’s face reddened, and then he took a step backward. “No. I don’t know him.” He gestured to the edge of the parking lot. “C’mon, fools. We need to see the Arbiter before the registration closes down. Let’s go.”

Before anyone could offer any further commentary, the three biker thugs headed out of the parking lot. Nasir and Kin whispered the entire way, chuckling as they went, amused by their own commentary. Jace glanced over his shoulder several times, his brow furrowed.

On the back of their jackets was an elaborate coat of arms.

They had a sword, a handgun, and a manticore stitched into the leather jackets. The words, “Win, Conquer, Execute” were stitched underneath.

Once they were gone—so deep into the fog that Kellan couldn’t see them anymore—Mavis brushed off her pants. Only the smell of Nasir’s black cigarette lingered.

“What was that?” she asked.

Kellan shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently, people already know me. And they think I’m going to enter the Nexus Games.”

“What are the Nexus Games? Survivor or something? The Hunger Games?” She glared at him. “Are we going to have to kill each other? Because if we are, I’m out.”

“It’s a team competition,” Kellan muttered, his gaze drifting to the asphalt as he mulled over the new information. “Mages group together to do something and gain keys. The prize is worth killing for, at least according to the kid.”

“Keys?” Mavis crossed her arms and exhaled. “Okay. Well, the next question is—do we trust those guys? They said we wouldn’t be able to find a way back. Do we keep looking for one anyway?”

Can we trust them?

Kellan reached into his pocket and withdrew the dog tags. He turned them over until he could read the information. His heart stopped for a brief moment, his hands shaky.

The tags read:

Kellan, Alex

991-93-6789

O Pos

Catholic

The random biker punk had my dog tags? Kellan stared at them, his vision tunneling. He hadn’t really worn his tags since his time in the army. Once he had joined Delta Force, he hadn’t needed them anymore—he wasn’t supposed to wear anything that could easily identify him.

“Are those your tags?” Mavis whispered as she stared at the necklace.

Kellan only replied with a nod.

“He said he didn’t know you… But he had your tags?”

Jace had been the only one whose information had been completely concealed. And he had been the only one with friendly advice. Kellan was willing to bet Jace knew more than he had said, but was it worth chasing after them?

“That guy kinda looked like you,” Mavis muttered.

“No, he didn’t.” Kellan touched his own dark hair and thought back to Jace’s appearance. “He was scrawnier than me.”

“Less muscle, yeah. But otherwise…”

“What does it matter?”

Mavis shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we should team up with them?”

Kellan didn’t want to team up with men like Nasir.

He didn’t want to team up with a kid like Sen, either.

And he still didn’t know what he was going to do about the games in general. Would he really be forced to participate? Was it the only way home?

He put the dog tags on around his neck. He missed the feeling of them.

“I think we should just do what Jace suggested,” Kellan muttered. “Gather arcana and get stronger.” He glanced over at the ruined truck. “Laser beams, rotting touch… People have some powerful skills. We should have some, too.”

“We had to smash a Pestbyter to get arcana, apparently.” Mavis twirled some of her purple hair on a finger. “But it could’ve easily killed us. Maybe… We could find something easier?”

“Perhaps.”

Kellan hadn’t obtained the arcana until the machine stopped functioning. And Nasir wanted to take the arcana—by killing Kellan if necessary. Which meant acquiring arcana would likely be a violent affair from start to finish. Unless there were other ways to gather it? Kellan wished someone would just answer his questions.

“Ah! There you are!”

Kellan and Mavis turned on their heels. The fog at the edge of the parking lot swirled again. This time, Husker and Sen emerged from the mist. It was easy to identify them. Sen was short and dragging his robes behind him like a child dressed up as their parents. And Husker was a hulking werewolf with a heavy cloak and hood.

They were the oddest of all odd couples.

Sen hurried forward, his giant ruined robes billowing outward. “What kind of fool are you?” He glowered—his child-like face scrunched in irritation. “I’ll find you no matter where you go. My Tyranny Worms connect us. Now get over here, warrior. You’ll serve me with no further incident, or else.”

—Chapter 9—

—Get Your Bets In—

“Stop yelling,” Kellan said. He motioned to the Pestbyter corpse lodged in the rotted truck. “You’re going to summon more creatures to us.”

Sen’s eyes went wide as he drew close, his attention on the busted machine. “Harming a Pestbyter is against the rules! Look what you’ve done!”

“For the love of all that’s holy.” Kellan ran a hand down his face, silently asking whatever number-deity ruled this nightmare to give him strength. “You sound like a dead brain cell when you walk around shouting.”

With a gentle graze of his fingertips, Sen touched the broken Pestbyter. Then he knelt next to the machine and stroked the blood-strained cords. At least he’s doing it in silence,Kellan sarcastically thought to himself, though ultimately confused by Sen’s apparent sadness. We all need to feel bad for the murder-bots?

Husker walked up, his tall and imposing frame difficult to miss. He sniffed at the ruined truck and then snorted. “One of you piloted this vehicle?”

Mavis replied with a nod. “I did. I drove trucks for the army. Some bigger than this.”

“Hm.” Then Husker turned his attention to the rotted hood. The rust had gathered in piles, and some of it flew off with the breeze. “This was done with entropy magic.” Husker glanced between Mavis and Kellan. “Who did this? It wasn’t either of you.”

“Some mages here for the Nexus Games,” Kellan replied. Then he motioned to the truck. “How can you tell what type of magic was used? I feel like that kind of information would be useful.”

“Entropy is the magic of decay, loss, and death.” Husker curled his lip, flashing his canine fangs. “I don’t know who you met, but you shouldn’t trust entropy mages. Whatever those mages said to you—ignore them.”

Mavis narrowed her eyes. “Why? You have to give us a reason. Kellan and I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Because the type of magic you develop is based on your personality—your inner soul and desires. Mages only develop entropy magic if they’re monstrous and autocratic. Rogues. Pirates. Assassins. Thugs. Bullies.” Husker’s fur stood on end. “And the worst of all: tyrants and despots.”

Kellan tried to think back to his own magic. He had seen them for a brief second—when he killed the Pestbyter, a whole host of numbers of information flashed before him. What had it said? He closed his eyes, and to his surprise, the same chart appeared in his thoughts, like it had been a letter tucked away in a mental drawer, and now he had it in his hand.

Alex Kellan

Magics: Eclipse, Body, Metal

Rank:E, E, E

Mana:5

Health:7

Unspent Arcana: 3

Strength—4

Dexterity—4 [Accurate]

Fortitude—3 [Tough]

Charisma—3

Manipulation—1

Intelligence—2

Perception—5 [Keen-Eyed]

Wisdom—1 [Broken]

Willpower—10 [Defiant] (Halved)

Abilities:

Personal—[Descended from Zenith]—The mage has the raw magic of Zenith in their blood, and has no rank maximum. The mage can also develop one “unknowable” magic.

Personal—[Blitzkrieg Analysis]—The mage can see basic details of other magical beings and objects upon first glance without the need to spend mana.

Training—[Sharpshooter]—The mage adds a 50% bonus to gun damage.

Flaws:

[Greater Attachment]—The mage suffers greater from personal loss than normal. Whenever the mage loses someone close, the mage’s wisdom is reduced to 1, and their willpower is temporarily halved.

Magical Skills:

None

After examining the information, Kellan shook his head and dispelled the chart. When he opened his eyes again, he turned to Husker. “What about eclipse, body, and metal magics? What do those say about the mage?”

“Eclipse mages are typically solitary creatures,” Husker muttered as he thought over the question. “They form few social bonds, and tend to keep themselves hidden. They’re the loners who develop invisibility and the like. Body mages are the type who excel at physical activity, or prefer to care for others. Healers. Warriors. Athletes. And metal magic…” Husker snorted. “That’s the magic of civilization, hierarchy. Leadership. Individuals with a soldier’s mentality typically develop metal magic.”

Kellan wanted to protest. This almost sounded like those ridiculous zodiac signs he hated so much. But there was a core of truth to some of the things Husker Said. Kellan didn’thave many bonds or relationships. He had the others of the Delta Force—and that was it. And he did enjoy physical activity. And… he was a soldier. His magics fit him to a tee.

Which meant if he found otherswith eclipse, body, or metal magics, he would likely have things in common with them, since their personalities would be similar.

Now it was all starting to make sense.

“And entropy magic allowed that mage to destroy the truck?” Kellan asked, staring at the rust.

“That’s right.”

A shame. Kellan crossed his arms. It would’ve been useful if I could develop that ability.

The entire conversation, Mavis scratched at her arms, legs, and sides. Itching. Itching. Itching. Kellan recognized the first signs of the Tyranny Worms.

Sen stood and fidgeted with his ruined robes. The Pestbyter’s laser had left a hole in the silk, right over his chest. Kellan had the same problem—he felt a little silly with his holey-outfit, but it wasn’t a pressing issue.

Sen glance away from his clothes and then fluffed his head. “We have a problem. We need to speak to my sister right away. By destroying a Pestbyter, you’ve put us in a dangerous situation. We’ll have to answer to the Arbiter. If he… deems us criminals… we’ll never be able to enter the Nexus Games.”

Husker grew still and quiet.

“Who is this Arbiter?” Mavis asked, one hand on her hip. “He’s the guy who runs the games, right?”

“Silence!” Sen flounced away, heading for the edge of the parking lot. He hurried with the agility of a child. “We must go immediately!”

Husker turned to follow. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “Stick close to us. I’m impressed two E rank mages could handle a Pestbyter, but there are far more dangerous things around. Now that you’re both part of our team, I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt before the games even begin.”

For a long moment, Kellan thought about protesting. He didn’t want to associate with Sen, but at the same time, Husker and Sen did have answers to his many questions. When Mavis stepped to his side, he gave her a quick nod. We’ll just have to work around this for now. Perhaps Sen’s sister won’t be such a child.

Together, Mavis and Kellan followed Sen. They entered the fog, left the parking lot, and then continued down the cracked road toward Fayetteville. Mavis walked the slowest, but Sen’s legs were so short, it didn’t matter. They weren’t speeding through the streets.

The closer they got to the main city, the more noises floated across the winds. Honking. Shouts. Even gunfire. Somewhere in the distance, there was a commotion. It kept Kellan on edge.

The fog cleared a bit to reveal a makeshift barricade of broken cars, barbed wire, and cement dividers. A caution sign was nailed to the barrier for good measure, which amused Kellan. At least the citizens were being honest.

Sen hurried to a narrow entrance in the barricade. He picked up the bottom of his robes as he did so, like a princess hurrying down the aisle. There were no guards or Pestbyters to protect the entrance—it was just a gap in the barricade.

Husker entered after Sen, and Kellan stepped in third, Mavis close behind. The moment they got into the city, a terrible odor rushed over them like a foul disease. It smelled of sewage and grime. Kellan lifted his arm up and covered his nose, his eyes watering at the edges. In cases like this, he would use a gas mask, but he didn’t have any of his equipment.

To his surprise, there were people around.

Four people huddled around a garbage can. Another four were across the street, around a fire inside an oil barrel. They wore winter clothing—scarfs, fingerless gloves, and heavy coats. It took Kellan a moment to realize some of them weren’t human. One was a scrawny werewolf person—dressed in the same winter clothing as the rest of the apocalypse-hobos.

Kellan kept waiting for his eyeballs to give him information, but nothing came.

He stepped closer to Husker, narrowing his eyes. “Why aren’t I getting any information?”

Husker snorted. “Probably because these people aren’t mages. Divination abilities only trigger when magic is around.”

While Kellan wasn’t entirely sure what that entailed, he could at least deduce a couple facts. The people here didn’t have magic, which meant they were less of a threat. However, Kellan had learned the hard way that anyone could be a threat at any time, and he kept his guard up, never trusting the denizens of the twisted city, even when they glanced his way with fear in their eyes.

Mavis pointed to the skinny werewolf in the thick brown coat. His ears appeared as though they had been chewed.

“Do you know him?” she asked, scratching her shoulder.

Husker glanced over. “You think all rennic just know each other, is that it? We all look the same to you?”

“Well… I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Then Husker looked away and laughed. “I’m givin’ you a hard time. I know him. That’s Weese. I spoke to him the first time I arrived here. He’s a hane addict. Best to avoid him unless you’ve got something to trade.”

Weese’s ears stood on end, as though he heard his name and homed in on the conversation. Kellan didn’t like the desperate look in his bloodshot eyes.

A few shops along the road had large windows packed with dozens of TVs. The bars over the windows made it difficult to see the screens clearly, but Kellan didn’t need many details to know what was happening.

It was the creepy news anchor. The one chained to his desk. The man with the bloody blindfold who had laughed the entire presentation earlier in the morning.

Kellan jogged over to the window, eager to hear what the anchor had to say.

Unlike last time, the news show wasn’t in a grimy newsroom. The blindfolded man sat at a desk in a large studio, with several flat TV screens behind him, each playing footage of individuals doing something.

One screen showed a man skinning a deer.

Another screen displayed a woman fighting in a war.

A third screen showcased a man in a trench coat standing in front of a forest.

“Registration is almost over, ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between.” The news anchor smiled wide, his perfect white teeth an odd contrast to the dimly lit—and mostly gray—studio. His hands were still cuffed to the desk, and he struggled with them, though he never commented on his confinement.

“Our high rollers will be pleased to hear that the infamous Brenner Hawke, traitor to all humanity, has added his name to the roster of competitors this year.” The blinded news anchor motioned to the screens behind him. They all switched at the same time, showing a dozen of the same image.

A man in the power suit—Brenner Hawke, Kellan assumed—walked down a narrow corridor, like someone was filming him with a tiny camera pinned to their shirt. The metal suit gave Hawke a few inches of height, and completely covered him from head to toe in gray-steel armor. The suit was sleek and deadly. It looked agile, even if each step sounded like a skyscraper going for a stroll.

Whoever was filming tried to back away from the approaching power suit.

He wasn’t fast enough.

With lightning speeds, the man in the power suit withdrew a sword—something straight from a science fiction movie—where one side of the blade was metal, and the other side was super-heated plasma, a neon red in coloration. Then the man slashed at the camera, clearly ending whoever had been holding it.

Kellan had no idea why—there was no sound to the video, or any explanation attached to the action.

A few of the Nexus-hobos cheered from the other side of the street, obviously watching the news from afar and delighted with whatever had happened on screen.

Perhaps they just love violence?Kellan shook his head.

“Isn’t Hawke fascinating?” the news anchor asked. “Hawke’s laser sword can cut through anything.” The man slammed his hand on the desk. “What I wouldn’t give to be sliced in half by the legendary Brenner Hawke. What an honor. What a delight.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t wait for the sweet release of death! It’ll be glorious.”

Kellan watched with morbid curiosity, unable to look away. Just like before, he had no idea what was going on, or why such a production even existed.

The news anchor rubbed at the blood splotches on the blindfold. “Sorry, everyone. I got caught up in the moment. Let’s return to the reports, shall we?” He smiled and placed his cuffed hands to the top of the rusted desk. “Over fifty teams have registered for this Nexus Games. Over twenty teams have the bare minimum of five teammates, but at least six teams have the maximum of ten members. So high. So risky. They’ll have to get more keys—one key per member in your team. That’s the rules.Even if a member dies. The teams of ten will need ten keys.”

Again with the keys.

Kellan wasn’t entirely sure why they were needed, but perhaps it didn’t matter. What he could gather was: the keys were required to win the game. Every team had to gather a number of keys equal to their starting teammates. So, the less teammates, the faster a team could finish. In theory.

Kellan still had too many questions, and not enough answers.

“We have a lot of S rank and M rank mages this year,” the news anchor said with a laugh.

The screens changed behind him, showcasing soldiers, warriors, fighters, and pilots. Kellan couldn’t keep up with the information, but he saw a few creating firestorms, controlling blizzards, and a few even disappearing from sight with some sort of invisibility. They all had incredible powers—obviously magic, though some seemed technological in nature.

“Team Two has officially registered with Brenner Hawke as vice-captain.” The anchor shook his head. “Remember to get your bets in! Everyone wants some arcana. Myself included!”

Some of the screens flashed with words and lists. Some were Chinese hanzi. Some were in Farsi. Some… Kellan didn’t recognize. Finally, he found a screen displaying the information in English.

Arcana Bets

First Mage to Die—10:1

First Team to Obtain a Key—5:1

First Team to Break the Rules and be Disqualified—4:1

Kellan didn’t even read the rest of the list. He got the picture.

People were going to watch the games to bet on various things that happened. And was arcana being used as a form of currency?

“Remember, if you lose, and can’t pay, the Arbiter will always accept lives” the anchor said, as though answering Kellan’s unspoken question. “He loves lives! Fresh blood is the best blood, ladies and monsters.”

The homeless individuals whispered among themselves, Kellan glanced over his shoulder, watching them all debate the information. Would they bet arcana? Did they even have it? Kellan would’ve bet against it. He had to kill one of the Pestbyters just to get 3 total arcana. He suspected if that were the bar, it was difficult to precure.

“Get all your bets in soon,” the anchor said, nothing but overwhelming joy in his voice. “And keep an eye out for the last few teams to register! I’m told we’ll be having a surprise guest.”

“What’re you doing?” Sen shouted from the other side of the rundown road. “We must stay together! Watch TV when we’re resting!”

Kellan pulled himself away from the news report and hurried back over to the others. Mavis eyes the TV as well, her attention on the laughing figure of the news anchor.

“Careful what you take to heart from that show,” Husker muttered. The clink of chains rattled every time he took a step. “The reporter, Bitso, isn’t what he seems.”

“I have two functioning eyes,” Kellan quipped. “I can tell the man isn’t right in the head.”

“That’s not what I meant. Bisto is Descended of Zenith. From what I heard, he developed one of the unknowable magics, and was punished by the Arbiter. He has no loyalty to the truth, or even to reason.”

Punished for developing a certain type of magic?

“I thought you said the magics were based on your personality,” Kellan muttered. “So, Bitso didn’t really have a choice, right? It was his personality?”

“The unknowable magics are different in this regard. They must be learned and developed. They’re difficult, complex, and rare. You must have the Arbiter’s blessing before you can obtain one.”

“What kind of name is Bitso?” Mavis asked.

Husker snorted and laughed. “I ask myself that every time I hear a human’s name.”

The dark clouds overhead threatened to wash the street with frigid rain. Kellan and Mavis walked close together. The deeper into the city they got, the more it became an amalgamation of buildings and concepts. Some stores were broken down buildings. Others were machine-like and futuristic, with neon lights on the sides, and no windows.

Kellan spotted a robot standing outside of a door, its metallic body covered in a blackish grease. Its eyes were LEDs that shone green. It gave Kellan the once over before turning away.

More people milled about the street, but none of them activated Kellan’s Blitzkrieg Analysis. He ignored most of them—they were humans in shabby clothing, all avoiding his gaze—but a couple caught his attention.

Another person with wings.

Another werewolf.

One man carried a backpack that was twice as large as his torso. It seemed filled to the brim with objects, and face masks hung off the side. One of the masks did activate Kellan’s magic-sensitive eyes.

Magical   Item [Armor]—Mischief Maker’s Mask

The mage gains +2 dexterity,   conceals his magics and ranks to basic divination, and resembles a certain   famous character from a franchise in some other universe. It’s stylish.

Kellan rubbed at his face and almost ran into Husker, who had stopped dead in his tracks. Sen stood in front of an odd building—a sandstone establishment with silk curtain doors, a brick fence around the property, and tiny circle windows. It reminded Kellan of opium dens he had seen in India, but with an odd Arabian feel.

Smoke wafted from the tiny windows at a constant rate. The people who went in and out of the place kept their heads down and hoodies up.

The neon sign outside was written in Chinese hanzi—it was the only one not in English.

“Here we are,” Sen stated. “My sister is waiting for us inside.” He shot Kellan and Mavis a sneer. “You two look miserable… But we don’t have any more time.” He walked over and smacked both Kellan and Mavis on the side of the leg. “Straighten up. Speak clearly. Don’t embarrass me in front of my sister.”

Mavis grimaced at the touch and stepped away. “Watch it.”

“Perhaps you should speak to your sister first,” Husker growled. “I’m telling you. She’s not going to be happy with your choices.”

“No, she’ll love it.” Sen stared up at Kellan, his eyes slowly narrowing. “Well… On second thought… Perhaps I’ll take in our warrior, and then I’ll bring up the fact that my puppets were mangled and report that we have a second warrior to take their place.”

Husker grumbled something under his breath, but Kellan didn’t catch it.

With a dramatic wave of his hand, Sen turned and headed for the front door of the building. “Follow me, Alex Kellan. It’s time you meet the leader of our team—my dear sister, the Lady Mage Sun Xiang.”

—Chapter 10—

—The Illusionist—

Sen walked into the bizarre establishment through the silk curtain front door. The silk was a vibrant red, and shimmered when it moved, like playful scarlet water.

Kellan followed after, tense in every regard. The Nexus wasn’t a place of predictability, and he hated entering an unknown place without a reliable weapon or teammate. However, he wasn’t ready to fight the issue, either. Now was the time for answers, and Kellan suspected the Lady Mage Sun Xiang would at least have a few.

The building smelled like a hive of hippies.

With his breath held, Kellan glanced around. The front room was decorated with soft pillows and silk. A werewolf man stood at a desk, his claws around a glass of water. His white fur highlighted his dark eyes perfectly—though some of his fur poked through his butler uniform.

The wolf-man’s ears went straight when Sen and Kellan entered. “What can I do for you two?”

There weren’t any chairs or tables. Just pillows. Piles of pillows in the corners like the place was meant for a giant slumber party of stoners.

“Fool, we don’t have time for discussions!” Sen proclaimed as he hurried through the lobby and straight for a door marked with the stairs sign. “You will pack Sun Xiang’s things immediately.”

The white wolf snorted and laughed. “Oh. You’re with the Illusionist. Right.”

Then he didn’t move. He just sipped some of his water, like there was no rush in the world. The place could be on fire, and this guy would still be casually drinking.

Kellan walked by, giving the man a hard stare. His eyes told him nothing.

A non-mage, then.

Kellan went to the stairs and followed Sen up to the third story. Every door was a silk curtain, and from inside the building, Kellan heard the sounds of merriment and eating. The further he got away from the lobby, the more the place smelled like BBQ. Kellan breathed a bit easier.

With haste in his steps, Sen rushed into the third story corridor. He hurried to a curtain door at the very end and then gestured with his short arm. “Here.”

Kellan stopped at the precipice and hesitated. For some reason, he had an odd sensation flood him right before entering. Sen threw open the silk curtain and stepped inside—Kellan followed once the feeling had waned.

The small sitting room was drowning in a haze of incense.

Various plants filled the corners, stuffing an extreme amount of life into the tiny living space.

There were two more curtain doors—one to a balcony, and one to a bedroom. Kellan wondered if there was a bathroom nearby. Perhaps the Nexus was so twisted that it didn’t have those.

Kellan laughed to himself at his own joke.

“Sister?” Sen called out. “I’ve returned with our warrior. Come see.”

The curtain to the balcony rustled.

Sen turned on his heel and glared up at Kellan. His child-like face made him look like he was throwing a tiny tantrum.

“Kneel,” Sen commanded.

The worms in Kellan’s body writhed around at the command. The sensation of a hundred tiny creatures in his system made Kellan grimace. He could fight against them—and the command—but he decided to wait. He actually wanted to speak with Sen’s sister.

Without his control, Kellan knelt on one knee.

“Really?” Kellan hissed under his breath. “You could’ve asked.”

Sen didn’t even glance at him. “Silence. My sister deserves your respect.”

Before Kellan could offer up a retort, a woman opened the curtain to the balcony.

Sun Xiang was beautiful—not like a model, or an actress, but the kind of regal beauty found in an oil painting or statue. She wore a robe with sleeves too long to be practical. They fell all the way to the floor, covering her arms and hands. When she walked, her long black hair swayed with the movement, silky enough to rival her elegant robes.

Name: Sun Xiang the Illusionist

Race:Human

Magics:Mind, Soul, Concealed

Rank:Concealed

Armor Rating: ---

Health:7

Stats:Concealed

Abilities:Concealed

Xiang and Sen were related. Kellan could see it in their facial expressions.

But when her eyes landed on Kellan, she stopped mid-step.

“Sen,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

After clearing his throat, Sen stepped forward, almost tripping over his robes. “This is for the best, Sister. I told you I’d find a warrior worthy of us, and here he is!”

Xiang shook her head, her eyes glazing with water. Kellan stood, unsure of why tension in the room was rising.

With a quick turn, Xiang turned away. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

“Are you pleased? I thought you’d enjoy this, truly.”

“You’re a fool is you think that.” She took a deep breath. “We don’t even have the time required to fix this mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake.” Sen moved closer to his sister and offered a smile. “This is perfect. Trust me. Look! He has the Descended of Zenith ability. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Xiang said nothing. She kept her back to the room, her attention on the balcony that overlooked the road. A gentle breeze subtly played with her hair.

“And I have control of him,” Sen continued, his voice becoming shaky as he continued. “I used our father’s Tyranny Worms. See? He can’t leave us now.”

“Sen.”

He froze, obviously caught off guard by his sister’s icy tone. “Y-Yes?”

“Leave us.”

Sen rubbed at his arms. For a prolonged moment, he did nothing. Then he glanced up at Kellan, offered him a glower, and turned for the curtain door. He dragged his feet as he went, glancing at his sister like he might say something.

He never did.

Sen pushed his way out of the curtains and into the hall. After another few moments—where Kellan listened to Sen’s distant footfalls—Xiang finally turned back around.

“Kids, am I right?” Kellan quipped. But then he caught his breath.

Xiang wiped a stream of tears from her elegant face, her sleeves catching all the water on her cheek. Once she had rubbed at her eyes, she walked further into the room, circling around Kellan. Along the way, she touched the leaves of the plants, her hands never leaving her long sleeves.

When Xiang stopped, she met Kellan’s gaze, her eyes still red, but no longer crying.

“I apologize,” Xiang said, her voice graceful and confident. “My brother can be insensitive. I think he’s flesh-crafted himself too many times. It’s affected his common sense.”

“I don’t think I know what’s going on,” Kellan said as he crossed his arms.

“Sen never should’ve brought you here.”

“We can agree on that.”

Xiang studied his facial expression. Her eyes became glassy a second time, but she looked away and took a deep breath. “I should… apologize once again. That emotional outburst was unbecoming of me. You must be confused and frightened. This world is new to you. Allow me to introduce myself.”

“You’re Sun Xiang the Illusionist,” Kellan said. He sarcastically motioned to his face. “My eyeballs told me all about you.”

She nodded once. “You have a keen perception, and your personality ability allows you to know the details of magical people and objects.” Xiang held her wrist to her chin as she thought of something. “How has your stay in the Nexus been so far?”

Kellan couldn’t help but chuckle. “My experience? I feel like my default emotion has been, What the hell is going on? Followed closely by, Oh no, not again. A person can only take so much O-face before their jaw gets tired, if you catch my drift.”

“I see. And has my brother… Well, has my brother been good to you?”

Good to me? Kellan had to think over the question for a long moment.

“Your brother seems to have enslaved me for the purposes of playing a game,” Kellan said, unable to keep his sardonic tone out of his words. “I don’t know what messed up reality you come from, but where I’m from, that’s not appreciated.”

Xiang tightened her jaw and glanced away.

With a wave of her sleeve, the plants in the room vanished. All of them. And then the curtain over the balcony—and the curtain for the other door. The room was barren. Devoid of all furniture and warmth.

Kellan flinched and glanced around, taken aback by the sudden change in their surroundings.

“I will speak with my brother,” Xiang muttered, her gaze vacant as she stared at the distant wall. “Again, I apologize for what he’s done. He never should’ve dragged you into our affairs. I never wanted this.”

Kellan glanced around, his eyebrows close to his hairline. Nothing in the room. Nothing. “Let me guess. Everything was an illusion? That’s how you got that title?”

“Yes.”

“Look, I don’t care about your brother’s common sense, or the games he wants to play, or how crazy this world is.” Kellan rubbed at the whole in his shirt. “I just want to go home. Send me and Mavis back, and I’ll chalk this all up to a fever dream and never think about it ever again.”

Xiang closed her eyes and exhaled.

When she didn’t say anything, Kellan lifted an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? I know you or your brother can do it. He said you had the capability.”

“I have the capability.” Xiang turned to him. “But please reconsider.”

Kellan half-smiled. “Reconsider staying?” He motioned to the balcony. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but there are murder-robots floating around the streets ready to beam a fool down just for existing. It’s not really my kind of place.”

“We need your help for the Nexus Games.”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.”

“I could find people,” Xiang said matter-of-factly. “But I need talented individuals if I’m to have any hope of winning the games.”

Kellan forced a quick sigh. “What’s the prize? Ten bajillion space-dollars? Or whatever you people use for currency? Arcana? A medal that cures cancer? It better goddamn blow my mind if it’s worth all this insanity.”

“The prize is access to Zenith.”

Kellan waited for her to follow it up with an explanation. When she didn’t, he rotated his hand around in a circle, urging her to continue.

“Zenith is a dimension unlike any other,” Xiang said with an amused smile. “Everyone who goes there is filled with magic beyond compare. It’s a wonderland of arcana, resources, longevity, and prosperity. It literally is perfect.”

“So, you’re going to compete in the Nexus Games so you can win a weekend getaway to a resort dimension?” Kellan scoffed and then shrugged. “I’m not buying it.”

With a slight hint of anger, Xiang stepped up to Kellan, her eyes narrowed. “It isn’t like you to be so dismissive, Alex Kellan. This isn’t about power or seeing Zenith with my own eyes. This is about the people who are there.”

She talks like she knows me. Kellan held his breath, both angered and intrigued. “People?”

“Ten years ago, my mother won the Nexus Games,” Xiang stated. She took a breath, and then continued with, “She was supposed to send me magical resources from Zenith so that I could use them to fix our nation—a land being ravaged by corruption—but she never contacted me. I fear… Something is wrong. I must find my mother, and the only way to do that is to get to Zenith myself.”

“Your mom might be too busy enjoying herself,” Kellan said with a shrug.

Xiang moved away from him, her demeanor once again calm.

“My mother would never abandon her people. The only reason she entered the Nexus Games was to get to Zenith and find a solution for our suffering.” Xiang held a hand to her chest. “I have to find her. If I don’t… My homeland will crumble. It’s already on the verge of collapse. Not from politicians or mismanagement. It’s from a hex. A type of corrupted magic.” She shook her head and turned away. “I know… You know nothing of magic. But please believe me. Hexes are the worst form of magic. They’re a rot that festers from the inside and destroys everything you love.”

“There’s no way to deal with them?” Kellan asked.

Xiang shook her head. “No. Once they’ve formed, they’re like a cancer that will never relent. Husker understands. That’s why he agreed to help me.”

Kellan crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them, uncertain of what to do. Xiang was right—he didn’t know anything about hexes, or why they were so terrible. He didn’t know anything about Xiang’s homeland, either.

He understood patriotism, though. And wanting to protect things that mattered to him.

“Let me get everything straight,” Kellan said, one hand up. “You want to compete in these games so that you can find your mother and save your homeland.”

Xiang met his gaze and slowly nodded.

“You need my help because you’re out of time and options.”

Again, she nodded.

“And if you don’t succeed, your homeland will crumble, and you’ll never see your mother ever again?”

“Correct.” Before Kellan could say anything more, Xiang added, “And if you help me win, you’ll also gain access to Zenith. You’d become more powerful than you ever imagined. The magic of Zenith flows so freely, it empowers all who live there. They become immortal.”

Immortality?

The more Kellan heard, the more Kellan became suspicious. A perfect dimension where everyone lived forever as a powerful wizard? Seemed too good to be true. Then again, robots that stole the organs of dogs was never something Kellan thought would happen, so perhaps anything was possible.

“I don’t care about the immortality,” Kellan stated. “But I suppose power wouldn’t hurt in this situation.” Anything to avoid being rotted into the dust, like the truck.

“Then you’ll help me?” The hope in Xiang’s voice cut Kellan deep.

Kellan rubbed at his jaw. “Listen—what makes you think we’ll win? Mavis and I were dragged here against our will. We don’t know what’s going on. You want a team where 40% of the members are clueless?”

“That can be fixed with time and explanation. It’s your potential that…” Xiang shook her head. “It’s your potential that Sen thought would be an asset to us. Your magics can be grown with each arcana.”

“And that makes you think we have a chance?” Kellan had no idea what was required of the games. Physical tasks? Magical ones? Getting a rose from a potential significant other? What were the obstacles of this hyper-magical reality show?

“I think we’ll win because you’re not the only one with potential.”

Xiang once again waved her hand.

But instead of flowers appearing around them, the entire room vanished. Kellan no longer stood into a dinky room of an opium den. He stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking a dozen waterfalls.

The rush of the water, the mist in the air, the scent of forest and pine—it all assaulted him at once.

Kellan stumbled backward and almost tripped on a rock. He glanced around, his heart racing. Where were they? Rainbows filled the waterfalls, a trick of the light. The brilliant sun, shining overhead, made everything vibrant and wonderful.

Birds… Herons, specifically…They flew overhead in beautiful V formations.

As far as Kellan was concerned, he and Xiang were out in the vast wilderness, all alone. When he glanced over to her, she smiled and laughed into her sleeve.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re always so tense,” she said, more jovial than she was before.

“You know me well, is that it?”

Xiang’s smile dropped. In a serious tone, she said, “We’ve never met before. I’ve just… Known someone who is similar. I apologize. I shouldn’t act as though I’m familiar with your mannerisms.”

She held out her hand. “Let me show you something.”

Kellan brushed off his clothing. The water from the falls irritated his nose. He stepped over the rocks with careful precision, and then placed his hand on Xiang’s. Her palm was soft, and her fingers delicate.

“Okay,” Kellan muttered.

Xiang closed her eyes, and information was sent to Kellan’s thoughts, like when his eyes activated.

Sun Xiang’s Abilities:

Personal—[Descended from Zenith]—The mage has the raw magic of Zenith in their blood, and has no rank maximum. The mage can also develop one “unknowable” magic.

Personal—[Master Manipulator]—The mage is a master of manipulation and trickery. Their illusions are always considered 5 ranks higher (even beyond maximums) in order to avoid detection and divination.

Kellan ripped his hand away from her. For some reason, seeing her abilities… It made him feel slimy. Like he had touched something he shouldn’t have. Or that something was…

Well, it wasn’t right.

“Well?” Xiang asked. “You saw it, didn’t you?” She waved her hands at their surroundings. “That’s why your Blitzkrieg Analysis didn’t activate when I created our false environment. My illusions are beyond compare.”

Kellan slowly nodded along with her words, his attention on the rainbows and birds. He really couldn’t see the difference. Even the scents seemed real.

“With my brother’s ability to alter flesh and control people, and Husker’s raw talent for destruction… I think we stand a good chance of acquiring the keys we need.” Xiang threw her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Please. Help me.”

Her beauty seemed more suspect to Kellan now that he knew the truth. Was Xiang even showing her true self? It made him wonder.

But he didn’t really care.

If what she said about her mother and nation were true, Kellan wanted to help.

He sighed. “All right. I’ll help you.”