“Well this sucks.” Luke mumbled into the tiled floor, head squashed under a certain teenager's metallic foot. The knee across his back to hold him down hurt more, but the foot on his head was by far more embarrassing.

  To be honest though, not having to run anymore is pretty awesome. It felt like he’d go to sleep for a week if he dropped into bed with how exhausted his body was. That was what he got for spending a solid ten minutes running around the shrinking arena he shared with Shrapnel. It has been a laborious process. The entire time was a blur in the cashier’s mind as he tried to puzzle together a way to defeat Shrapnel, in between throwing the occasional knife and shooting at the youth.

  But eventually, probably a couple minutes ago, Luke had come to the deeply frustrating conclusion that his energy was spent. All his goodies were gone and the super in his heart wasn’t even enough to get off one use of Punchline anymore. It was a little depressing, to realise he wasn’t built for the type of endurance Shrapnel was. Unlike the teenager who could seemingly use his power infinitely, Luke had a certain amount of firepower before he was reduced to relying on his stats.

  And his stats weren’t exactly high.

  At least he had learned the lesson early in his career.

  Conserve strength. Although he hadn’t really been able to do that, considering his stacked line up of opponents. It was still a good idea to try and remember. He could see it already, everytime he was thinking about using up all the power he had, remembering the feeling of Shrapnel of all people standing on his head, hyping up the crowd while his face was pressed into the tile.

  “Sorry about this Mr V.” Shrapnel said, hiding an apologetic expression beneath his rag. “I just really need this money.”

  “Better not happen again.” Luke mumbled, his mind speeding through the various intricate ways he could beat Shrapnel with preparation if the teenager ever tried to betray him.

  I wonder if a hydraulic press would do the trick. Bloom might have one of those. She did have a warehouse. Questions for later.

  “Is… is it cool if I just stab you in the back?” Shrapnel asked hesitantly, turning one of his arms into a blade.

  “Do what you gotta do.” Luke answered simply, keen to get this whole thing over with. Ten minutes. Ten minutes of running around should, hopefully, skate him over the edge to the top five. It wasn’t a hundred thousand. It wasn’t twenty five thousand. But it was a start.

  The atmosphere of the Pit exploded as Luke felt the bladed arm stab into his back just deep enough before the Guardian Bracelet blanketed him in a protective, healing aura. Perhaps it was karma that the audience roared just as loud when he lost as they did when he won. He heard Vibe voice over project over the colosseum, saying something about how he’d been felled.

  But all it sorted faded into the background as the golden glow surrounded him. He felt it slither through his skin and fill his body with a warm sensation before it split him apart, piece by piece.

  The world flashed with gold for a moment, blinding Luke. He felt dizziness as his back fell onto a much softer, elastic material and the roars in the distance turned into rumbles above him. The smell of blood, concrete and sweat were replaced by a peaceful lavender. Luke rubbed his eyes, trying to blink them open.

  As the light dimmed the figures of medical staff slowly started to go from blurry shadows, to actual people. It took a second before the cashier fully clocked that he was in a medical bay, with stretchers, I.V and all other types of hospital goods littered all over the place.

  The rocky walls clearly showed that it was still inside the Pit, but beyond that, Luke hadn’t a clue where he actually was. He just knew he was in the med bay. A med bay which didn’t seem to have any more patients, besides a dude with a crossbow on his wrist who looked like he’d been strangled to death.

  They would’ve needed a med-bay this big for the first round. Luke thought to himself. It looked far too big for the amount of patients now, but in the earlier rounds the cashier was sure this place would’ve been swamped.

  One of the nurses noticed him sitting up on his own stretcher a few moments after he regained his sight, bustling over to him in a hurry. Her blonde hair looked familiar, same with her distinctive features and cute nose… but Luke couldn’t place where he’d seen her before until he read her nametag.

  “Hi there! My name is Julie and I’ll be administering your post-pit medical clearance.” She said with a bubbly smile, grabbing a clipboard and skimming it. “Just a quick run down, you might’ve read it in the contract you agreed to when you put on the Guardian Bracelet, but all Pit participants must go through a post-pit medical clearance before they’re allowed to leave.”

  “Is it just a standard medical examination?” Luke queired, touching his nose which still stun from when he’d tumbled forward like an idiot.

  “As standard as it can be.” Julie said with a smile. “Now before I begin, do you have any pressing injuries you’d like me to address immediately.”

  “A cut on my back I guess.” Luke answered, internally waving off his nose. It didn’t feel broken and he was pretty confident it would heal with time. But he would like to at least get a bandage over the place Shrapnel stabbed him. “Weird question, but you wouldn’t happen to be a paramedic as well, would you?”

  Julie paused and gave him a confused, hesitant look with a level of creeping anxiety.

  “I do.” She asked, the glee in voice turning into a dead seriousness. “Would it be weird if I asked you how you knew that?”

  Her hands slowly curled towards the knife on the foldable table next to the stretcher.

  “Do you remember a young man that was electrocuted by Dark Spark about a week ago during Bright?” Luke asked, holding his hands up in surrender.

  “Which… one?” Julie answered, her anxiety settling slightly as she slowly put the knife down.

  Yeah that makes sense. Dark Spark was a particularly shitty piece of shit, so it didn’t surprise Luke much that he’d electrocuted more than one person during Bright. Actually, it would be more surprising if he didn’t, considering how indiscriminate his power was. Not that his power was an excuse because Luke had powers so he knew it wasn’t hard not to hit someone. Darkspark was just a reckless asshole.

  The thought of it alone made him angry. Something within him just couldn’t not hate Dark Spark for what he’d done, even if he hadn’t directly caused Puck kicking his ass. That hate that he held for Reggie for doing that to him, spilled over into Dark Spark too. The motivation for his villainous turn in life came from many things. Childhood fantasy, disappointment in society around villains and a whole, whole lotta mental instability which had all been spurred and sparked by the System.

  But beyond the general goal of being a real supervillain, Luke’s actual goal… didn’t necessarily fit into the grandeur he imagined for himself. Because his goal was real, real simple. He was gonna find Dark Spark, kill him, cut him up into pieces, then throw those pieces into a bucket and throw that bucket into the sun if it still even existed.

  His next goal after that was also simple. He was going to find Reggie and do the exact same thing to him.

  But beyond that…

  “Are you okay?” Julie asked, her expression of anxiety slowly morphing into worry. When he didn’t reply, still somewhat locked into the fog of his villain plans she poked him in the face, which brought Luke back to his senses.

  “Yep, I’m the blonde one.” Luke replied, thumbing to himself. “What is a paramedic like you in a place like this?”

  “The same thing everyone else working here is.” Julie said, scanning over his figure before motioning for him to remove his vest and dress shirt, pointing at the rather large patch of red on his back. “Making a living. Cesar pays well and my skill set is valuable here. Turn over.”

  Before the cashier knew Julie was cleaning out the small carving on his back that was radiating a warm pain. It felt like fire ants were crawling inside when she rubbed disinfectant over it before bandaging it. The both of them made light small talk as she patched him up and ran him through the medical checklist. It was a strange coincidence to see her again, but Luke wasn’t bothered much by it.

  At one point she did start urging him to go and claim his E.R.A.O. Supe insurance. Julie had a good point that it was basically free money, but what she did not know was that if he reported the incident it would only make it easier for E.R.A.O. to track him down after he murdered Dark Spark. Still, there were a million other ways they could figure out it was him and free money was pretty convincing. The real way to not get caught as a Supe in the Federation of Man was to be important enough to society that E.R.A.O. would just sweep something like that under the rug.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The question is, how do I become that important? This was another one of those big villain questions that Luke would need to solve. Right up there with what his catchphrase needed to be. He chatted with Julie and thought about those big questions idly until his examination was done, at which point the nurse/paramedic directed him to where Team Basilisk was supposed to watch the rest of the event play out.

  Or rather, the last event.

  “Just take a left and then head straight down until you see the big gate with the snake on it!” Julie directed, waving goodbye.

  “Thanks, hopefully the next time we see each other, I won’t be battered and exhausted.” Luke said with a small pray that he might actually be fully healthy when he ran into Julie next. The paramedic/nurse responded with another wave and a smile.

  “Goodluck then! Try not to die!”

  He took that advice in stride as he strolled down the hall, past the coloured windows and dusty, coliseum arches until he stumbled upon the gate he was looking for. As per it being a Supe only area, the gate was heavy and Luke had to put his back into heaving the thing open, slipping his way through and into the Basilisk viewing room.

  The cashier was almost immediately shocked by how clean and luxurious it looked, especially considering the atmosphere felt similar to the Team Basilisk waiting bay. Only instead of dusty dirt ground there was flush tile and carpet and instead of a table of snacks there was a buffet with people actively restocking it. The more he took in the viewing room, the more the biggest difference between it and the waiting bay became apparent.

  The tension in the air was almost non-existent.

  Where there had been standoffish groups and loners aplenty in the waiting bay, now Supes seemed to be mingling with each other over drinks and food, no longer anxious about how they would perform in the Pit. It made sense. The Pit was easily one of the best places to meet a ton of other Supes on a similar level of experience to yourself if you were a beginner. Now that there were no stakes involved anymore, people were taking advantage of that social climate to do the one thing Luke feared more than anything.

  Networking. Exhausted and beat from a night of action, Luke decided that he would have none of it. Besides, he’d already accomplished the recruiting he needed to. What better time than now to relax for a moment and watch Shrapnel, hopefully, beat the breaks off whoever was left.

  With that in mind, Luke snaked his way around the many groups of people mingling, earning a whole bunch of looks and whispered comments as he approached the buffet. A few people moved forward to maybe have a word but the cashier decisively ignored them in favour of making himself a chicken sandwich. He was halfway through forking a generous helping of chicken between two pieces of whole grain when he spotted a familiar old man scooping up the last croissant.

  “Snapper!” Luke said, more than happy to see his favourite henchmen. He walked over to the older man and patted the old man on the back. In the process, he very subtly slipped one of the older man’s croissants onto his own plate. “How’s it going? Did you do well in arena battles?”

  “Got knocked out in the first round.” Snapper admitted between bites. “But these old bones aren’t built for endurance. Frankly I was surprised I did so well in the first round.”

  As the two of them walked around looking for a good place to sit, eat and cheer on Shrapnel, Snapper explained how his bout had gone. Apparently the old man had been put against a relatively nimble archer who shot energy projectiles, turning him into a pin cushion in about the first ten seconds. Which was unfortunate, but the old man didn’t seem to expect that he’d do much better. He did expand, by saying it was okay because Shrapnel had nearly popped the archer like a balloon in the next round.

  Didn’t realise Snapper had a mean streak in him.

  They finally stopped when they found a perfectly nice table right next to the window, save for the werewolf that everyone in the room still seemed too scared to approach. The fact that she snarled at anyone that looked at her might not have helped. She snarled at both of them as they sat down too, but Luke just chose to ignore her and take advantage of the view.

  “Hey Fangtooth!” Snapper said, sitting himself down. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Snapper.” She responded curtly. “V.”

  “Are you shitty because you lost to Borg or shitty that I then beat him?” Luke asked, taking a bite of his chicken sandwich as he gazed out at the Pit.

  “Both.” Fangtooth admitted. “But I’m mainly shitty I lost out on the money. I really, really needed it.”

  All the inky black walls had fallen down now, allowing the full scope of the Pit to fall into view since the games had started. To Cesar’s testament, it was a truly massive arena which made the two finalists look miniscule by comparison. He immediately recognised the fidgety nervous teenager dressed in bedsheets… but he also could’ve sworn he’d seen the woman in goldish yellow armour with blue outlines facing off against him.

  He’d seen the outfit before, at the very least.

  “Hey, at least one of us is going to get money.” Luke said, pointing to Shrapnel.

  “Oh don’t act like you weren’t third. I could’ve used that five grand.” Fangtooth muttered, grumpy as ever about her own loss. “At least I got to watch the kid almost skewer you.”

  Someone’s a bit salty. But in other news, he had confirmation that his plan had worked, almost exactly as intended. Whatever happened now, he’d be riding home with that third place money. Which raised another question lingering in the back of the cashier’s mind.

  Is third enough to complete Pitied To Win? The quest, weirdly, didn’t actually have a requirement. Just a punishment and a reward, with no clear goal on what he was actually meant to do. Luke got the feeling that although things like DDE had a bunch of strict requirements, times and conditions, bigger broader quests might just stick him with a general goal and let the budding supervillain figure out the rest.

  He was very much hoping he’d figured out enough to get the quest complete, if not for the exp then the skill. He didn’t know what infamy did for him because it had yet to change at all, and increasing his V.L seemed to give him a moderate bump to power but a Skill was different. He only had one and so far it was the sole reason he’d managed to skate his way to third, proving to be easily his most valuable asset. Even if the next Skill he got was only half as good as Punchline, it would easily be the best thing he got from the quest.

  System Seven is kinda neat. When it wasn’t threatening him with owchies.

  “V.” Snapper said, tapping him on the shoulder. “It’s starting.”

  Luke turned his attention along with the rest of the chatty room towards the Pit, where the two finalists were now barely fifty metres apart, separated by the centre platform that Vibe stood on, addressing the audience with his usual flair.

  “And we’re down to two. The two best. Best dressed, best prepared and best aspirants the Pit has to offer. Now, before we begin, let's give a round of applause to our gracious emperor for putting on a show for us tonight! None of this would be possible without him.” Vibe shouted, directing the crowd to cheer and rave as the lights flashed and the light projection showed off Cesar, sitting high in his own personal viewing box far above anybody else.

  The hyper dangerous Supe with damn near mythical powers flashed a regal, prideful smile to the audience and waved before gesturing for Vibe to continue.

  “With that out the way, let’s get to introducing our finalists.” Vibe said, all the lights flashing towards red as they highlighted Shrapnel, drawing a picture of a mighty snake beneath where he stood. “From team Basilisk, we have Shrapnel, the man of metal himself. Faced with challenges and a whole Swarm Hunter, this fella never backed down, holding a vanguard for his teammates and just overall kicking ass. He also just had a rather notable victory over the trickiest V, seemingly the first one to overcome his wild and strange fighting style.”

  Shrapnel seemed to shrink away from the attention and roars from the crowd for a moment before steeling himself and facing the moment. As he did, Fangtooth tapped a clawed finger on the table.

  “How did Shrapnel manage to beat you anyway V?” Fangtooth questioned, eyeing the cashier with suspicion.

  “He’s reasonably clever and quite tough. Not much I could’ve done.” Luke replied with a shrug.

  “I mean, you managed to beat Aqua and Borg, but you barely put up a fight against Shrapnel. You just ran. It didn’t even look like you used that weird power of yours. Strange, isn’t it? Almost like your power ran out.” Fangtooth said, pressing the subject.

  “Unless I lost on purpose?” Luke countered.

  “But you didn’t.” Snapper and Fangtooth both said in unison.

  “Oh hey look, they're introducing the other finalists.” Luke said, abruptly shifting the conversation away from one of his potential weaknesses.

  The lights flashed with a golden hue as they highlighted the women across from Shrapnel, drawing a picture of a large, multi-headed dragon beneath her. By the way she was dressed, Luke almost expected some bravado, but the women had an atmosphere of seriousness to her that made it clear she was here for a fight, not a show.

  “And from Team Hydra we have the one and only H, the hero of hope, spangled in her usual golden glow that we’ve come to adore. Just like Shrapnel, she hasn’t taken the easy road, fending off the Swarm Hunter until the time ran out. Since then she’s had not one, not two, not three, but four fights all which have ended in magnanimous fashion. What H’s power, motives or real name is, I haven’t a clue.” Vibe said, letting the lights fall on him dramatic fashion. “But I’ll tell you one thing, in the Pit, she sure knows how to put on one hell of a show. Now, who’s ready to see these two duke it out!”

  The crowd went nuts. They had been pretty rowdy for Shrapnel but they absolutely lost their minds as “H” was introduced. A Supe name that Luke felt he’d heard before. One that was so close to his. One that…

  Oh. Luke thought, as the weird fuzziness that came up in his brain whenever he tried to think about Reggie or the night he’d gotten the System came back. Was H somehow related to that? Did she have something to do with him that day?

  “Hey, is this H lady strong?” Luke asked the table, earning a very anxious look from Snapper and a laugh from Fangtooth.

  “Look, I think all three of us want the Shrapnel to win at this point…” Fangtooth said, gazing down at the youth covered in bedsheets. “...But I’ve seen that girl beat three people to a pulp and make the other guy surrender. So safe to say, it’s gonna be an uphill battle.”

  “Defeat is a tool for growth, not a permanent failing.” Snapper said amidst sipping his drink, sounding all wise and old.

  Well then… he may not have won, but at least he’d get to enjoy the show. And watch a Supe who’s naming scheme was nigh identical to his own.

  Who knows, maybe great minds think alike.

  If so, Shrapnel was screwed.