The sweet sound of repetitive radio hits played softly in the background as Amanda polished the glass case filled to the brim with different methods of murder. Pistols of all sorts gleamed behind the glass, calling to Amanda as the soul-sucking sound of a repeating chorus hummed. She didn’t know how she’d be reprimanded for turning of the cursed speaker that sat behind her counter, but surely it would be better than having to listen to the drool.
Or maybe it wouldn’t be.
Amanda had slowly started realising that Dot-mart wasn’t a healthy work environment.
She liked working in the costume section. She had taken pride in working there, regardless of how many stupid questions and suspicious people she had to deal with. Helping kids find all their favourite characters and then become them made Amanda feel like it was all worth it.
“But bring up that one of our customers might be a serial killer and now suddenly I’m the bad guy? How does that even work?!” Amanda huffed, kicking one of the boxes filled with ammunition.
Immediately she regretted it, hopping on one leg and getting a strange look from a few customers browsing. Amanda smiled at them, praying she wouldn’t have to answer any of her questions because she knew next to nothing about guns. So why was she now working in the weapon section? Because being willing to speak up about dangerous or disturbing individuals and deny them service was an invaluable skill for it.
So invaluable that she’d been fast-forwarded through all the required courses and given a nice bonus to her salary. Dot-mart’s way of saying thank you for shipping her off to a section of the store she didn’t want to be in to serve people Amanda had no business helping. All because she’d spoken up.
All because of that blonde-haired prick and his stupid jawline.
Amanda would’ve refused the promotion in a heartbeat if the money hadn’t been so good. So here she was, stuck minding all the weapons in the store and making sure unsavoury individuals didn’t get their grubby mitts on them.
“Excuse me?” a voice that sounded like a man asked behind her, as she busied herself polishing the shotguns. She didn’t know if they needed to be polished, but it felt like a good way to waste time.
“Any questions regarding the specifics of firearms should be directed towards the ginger,” Amanda explained, pointing towards her coworker Harry who drew most of his knowledge from video games. Still better than what she knew.
“He seems a little swarmed at the moment.” The man said, giving a nervous laugh.
Amanda gave a glance at her coworker. He was indeed swarmed by about three customers, seemingly as confused as them about the rifle in his hands which he was not pointing in a safe direction.
She sighed and then turned to help the-
Jawline? Amanda thought, staring at the customer who looked just as confused as she was.
“Jawline?” He repeated, making her realise only then that she’d said it out loud.
For a second she doubted what she was seeing but it was him. The same blonde hair, the same raggy clothes and creepy yellow eyes. The same fucker who got her moved to this place, to begin with. Amanda’s brain almost short circuit deciding whether to cuss him out or just flat-out attack him.
“It’s you.” Amanda spurted out, barely able to keep her thoughts together.
“That it is. Aren’t you the girl from the costume section that helped me last time?” The blondie said with a grin. There was something smug about it that pissed her off. Really pissed her off. “How did you end up here-”
Without thinking Amanda grabbed him by his collar and yanked him over the counter.
“I’m here because I reported your psycho ass!” Amanda growled.
Blondie's face went blank. “Reported me? Why?”
In response Amanda stuck a finger in his face, causing the Blondie to lean back seemingly uncomfortable. “Your cart looked like a serial killer's Christmas list psycho.”
He seemed to think for a moment before scrunching his brows and nodding. “Yeah, it was dumb of me to buy all those things in one place.”
“So you admit that I was right about you psycho!” Amanda said, pushing the finger further in his face.
“Firstly, I admit nothing, all of those things from the gas bottles to the alcohol were just for a party, lady.” The blonde said, the grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his face. It wasn’t forceful but he wasn’t gentle about it either exactly like a psycho would be. “Secondly, my name is Luke. Not psycho. I am a perfectly normal, non-violent nor mentally disturbed individual.”
Amanda squinted at him. “That sounds like something a psycho would say.”
Luke, if that even was his real name, facepalmed. Good. Amanda thought because he should feel annoyed. She felt annoyed and he should suffer for it in her eyes. Screw good customer service, blondie was lucky she didn’t open cases up and pistol-whip him.
Okay, maybe getting ahead of yourself Amanda. Gotta cool it.
She could see the other customers and Harry glancing down the counter in her direction. The fact she’d grabbed a customer was already going to land her in trouble so it was definitely best to cool it a little. Harry was mouthing something that looked like “Crazy Ex” and staring at Luke like he was going to do something about it.
Definitely need to cool it before Harry gets jumpy and ends up shooting a customer.
That was a good enough reason to calm Amanda down enough for her to let go of the blondie’s collar and brush herself off. All she wanted to do was get out of the store and relax with a diet soda but life rarely let people do what they wanted.
“Soooooooo…” The blondie- no, Luke started. “...can I purchase one of your firearms.”
“That depends,” Amanda said, shutting the case so he couldn’t get his grubby mitts on them. “You going to use it to kidnap someone.”
Luke’s face went blank again. Then his eyes lit up and he grinned.
“Whaaaaat? No, of course not.” Luke assured her, tapping on the glass case. “It’s for self-defence.”
That was about as good a reason as any for owning a gun. Perhaps it was the best reason besides hunting and perfectly reasonable in the world they lived in. It was just hard to trust the person saying it.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Lady I was robbed like two days ago,” Luke said, looking a little exasperated.
Then he started pulling up his shirt for god knows what reason. Instinctively Amanda backed up a little, reaching back for the shotgun on the wall behind her. She only calmed when she realised he wasn’t pulling out a weapon of his own, but showing off a painful-looking purple bruise that ran up his midriff.
“See, not lying,” Luke said, pointing at the bruise.
Sure she was hesitant to believe him, but he had a bruise and there wasn’t much reason to lie about being robbed. A part of her wondered if he got the bruise while kidnapping someone. Amanda doubted upper management would be inclined to believe that stretch of logic as a reason to not sell him a firearm.
She could just outright refuse to sell him something on the premise that he seemed like a dangerous individual but did she really have much proof of that either? While his shopping choices were odd it wasn’t super out of the ordinary.
Why does it feel like I’m convincing myself?
“If you can pass the E.R.A.O background check… it should be fine,” Amanda mumbled to herself.
Luke just smiled and handed her his Globe I.D.
She slotted it into the terminal, ready to witness a litany of the most horrendous crimes that one could commit, hand basically itching to hit the panic button. There was nothing. If Luke Welter had ever broken the law, he’d either gotten away with it or the crime had not been severe enough to show up on a background check. No kidnappings, no homicides, no robberies.
There wasn’t even a parking ticket.
By all measures the man eagerly waiting behind her was a perfectly sane, well meaning and law-abiding citizen.
I’m going to regret this aren’t I?
“Alright, what do you want?” Amanda asked, opening up the case.
“This,” Luke said flipping his phone around to show her.
It was a list. A list which consisted of about three handguns, four knives, two shotguns and a rifle. The list was a bit confronting to read. There was also a prodigy-tech pistol on the list that they carried, which Amanda had been briefed was absolutely not to be sold to anyone without an E.R.A.O carry card.
“I was also curious,” Luke asked, leaning over the glass counter and gazing at the guns within. “What kind of handgun do you think would be best when pistol-whipping someone? In your personal opinion.”
“My personal opinion is that you should stop pushing your luck,” Amanda grumbled.
Luke didn’t even say anything else, he just smiled even wider and gave her a thumbs up.
Why am I even helping this psycho? Amanda wondered as she started pulling guns out of the case.
*********************
Have you ever seen something so grand that you had to stop, if only for a moment, just to take it in? A creation so magnificent something inside you felt like you had to admire it. To take in just how much time, effort and artistry had to have gone into making something so… so…
“Big,” Luke said under his breath, gazing up at the Pit.
The gargantuan walls built of metal and stone loomed above him, swallowing the horizon ahead. The intricate design was etched and carved into every inch of the many open arches, glowing with a dim red like the blood of gods was flowing through the colosseum. There was a light hum of drums from inside, that almost felt hypnotic.
Calling to the bold, the brave and the powerful to come test their might.
The Pit found itself on the very edge of the Globe's first layer, nesting into the side of a transparent wall that separated the first from the second layer. So far out, so far on the edge of where the people of Venus City lived, one would think this colosseum might struggle to draw a crowd.
The lines told otherwise. Hundreds if not thousands of excited citizens of Venus City ready to witness what the emperor of this place could create. All the possibility had been streaming into the colosseum in droves, significantly crowding the glimmering gold gates.
In some ways, the gates looked like an entrance to the beyond. Mystical in a way that called out to one’s soul. In another, it was daunting. Like the great arches were a mouth leading directly to the belly of the beast.
Luke guessed the difference in viewpoint lay in whether you were part of the audience or the entertainment.
Whatever the case, one couldn’t say the Pit wasn’t at least impressive from the outside. The cashier was sure it was even more impressive on the inside, especially from the snippets he’d seen online.
I wish I knew the line was going to be this line.
Surrounded by so many people in such a tight space the overcoat, body armour and thick motorcycle pants suffocatingly hot. Luke was tempted to take off the mask just to get a breath of fresh air, but it wasn’t worth losing any amount of anonymity. A small-time Supe sort of relied on it.
How the hell is the participant line so full?
He understood the audience line, but he’d been stuck waiting on the gravel path leading into the colosseum for more than twenty minutes. It wasn’t that the line was slow-moving either; it was just that there were so many people.
The thought that Bloom expected him to win with this many people was becoming more and more daunting. He’d had barely two days to prepare. In that time, Luke had barely managed to complete DDE and put together a more super outfit. It hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Puck’s generous donation had come in handy, but buying the guns had drained that to barely a couple bucks. He’d only ended up buying handguns and one shotgun, skipping out on the rifle he wanted. That still left him extremely broke, although equipped with a few new fancy toys.
Could I argue the guns were a tax right off? They were part of his profession, after all. While he was caught up wondering how the hell he was going to pay to replace all his furniture, his phone buzzed.
Good luck. Try to survive till at least the duel event :) - Plant lady/Rent
Yeah, she’s definitely planning some em. He still remembered that soulless look she gave discussing their neighbourly favour. It gave him chills even now. But he would still try and survive, if not for her then his own sake. The name recognition from the Pit could jumpstart a Supe’s career and more than that, the cash prize was well worth his effort.
A hundred grand for first place, twenty-five grand for second and five grand for all of the top five. If he could just break into that top five, he’d have all the money he needed to fix his apartment. Maybe a little to jumpstart his villain career.
All things considered, this is an excellent career move.
Eventually, he got to the front of the line. There was a teller there, who looked like he absolutely hated his life.
“Alias and power type?” The teller asked.
Look professional. Luke thought, pushing up the suit beneath his body armour. He’d been thinking almost every second of the last two days about a name and come to one solid conclusion. He wasn’t very creative at all, because he couldn’t think of anything good. So then Luke started looking for a more logical answer to the question and he found it in a memory from not too long ago.
Listening to a news anchor dig into an up-and-coming superhero because of her one-dimensional name. Weird place to get inspiration sure, but he had sound logic behind it.
“V,” Luke answered simply, somewhat nervous to even announce it aloud. He’d almost an hour just repeating that name in the mirror, trying to get the annunciation perfect. V, supervillain in the making. “And my power type is Specialist.”
“Is that spelled V-ee or just V?” The teller asked.
“Just V.”
“That’s pretty short.”
“It’s a work in progress.” Luke laughed nervously.
The teller just grunted and started typing him into the system, silently judging the name Luke had worked so hard to come up with. Which was fine, because it was a placeholder name. At some point Luke intended to extend the V out into a name that started with the letter instead of just the letter. But explaining that to a teller that clearly didn’t care wasn’t something Luke was about to do.
“Are you officially registered by E.R.A.O as a Supe?” The teller asked after a moment.
“I don't… think so?” Luke answered, unsure.
“You would’ve received a letter in the mail if you were.”
“Then I am not.”
Frankly, he had no idea supervillains could even be registered as Supes. He thought that was reserved for heroes.
“Okay, do you have any prodigy-tech weapons or devices that were not constructed by yourself, along with any bio-chemical weapons that are deemed Pit illegal?” The teller asked.
“I only have these,” Luke said, opening his overcoat and showing the handguns holstered to his pants and the shotgun hanging in his coat.
“That's fine.” The teller nodded, then he ducked down pulled out a fancy gilded bracelet and handed it to Luke. “As per the workings of the Pit and the decree of the emperor Cesar, you must wear a Guardian Bracelet while competing in the pit.” He paused and leaned to his side, pointing down a hallway. “Down there is a waiting bay for Team Basilisk. Head down there and wait for the announcer to explain the first game. If at any point during the games you take critical damage, the Guardian Bracelet will transport you back to the waiting bay. You may not reenter the game after you have suffered enough damage to trigger the Guardian Bracelet and you will not take the bracelet off at any point during the games. Is that understood?”
“Yep.” Luke agreed, slipping on the bracelet. It clung to his wrist snuggly and shone light bounced off its gold edges.
“Then go ahead.” The teller grunted, calling the next person in line forward.
Luke made his way down the arched hallway, treading down the gravel path and hearing the roaring sound of chatter and people above him. The amphitheatre was filling out so quickly that he could feel the constant movement of thousands above him as he trekked towards the waiting bay. Smokeless torches lit his way, casting shadows behind the cashier.
The sound of people got louder as he approached a much better-lit, open room, filled to the brim with nervous energy and anxious participants. An intricate snake carving bent around the entrance of the wall, tracing all the way to the end where a barred gate showed a glimpse of what the Pit would offer them.
A few of them looked his way when he waltzed into the room, eyeing his bracelet. The more nervous ones quickly looked away but some held their stare and it felt to Luke like they were almost testing him. There was a brief moment of unease before Luke quelled it and stepped into the room, shrugging off the gazes.
Most of them left shortly after, leaving him alone in a room full of people. As weird as it sounded. Everything was so tense it almost felt like they were on death row. Only the most nervous of most confident had the guts to socialise. The rest kept to themselves, offering pleasant exchanges or warning to anyone that got near them and keeping it at that.
Luke surveyed the room, finding many colourful people all with different get-ups and styles to them. Some clustered together among the fray of cautious Supes. Whether they came together to the Pit or met each other at the waiting bay, it was pretty clear that they were planning to team up during the game.
Or games.
In addition to the people, the waiting bay was relatively sparse. Its walls were made of stones and lanterns hanging from above to keep away the shadows. There were stock standard plastic tables on either side with plates of snacks and water dispensers next to them.
Are those pretzels?
Oh, hell to the yes. Luke rushed over to the plate of gluten goodness before any of the dregs in the waiting bay decided to scarf them all. He grabbed one a plate and filled it with pretzels, muffins and anything else delicious he could get his hands. There were some stares, but Luke ignored them. If there was some unspoken rule about leaving the table for snacks alone, Luke was ignoring it.
As it turned out, he seemed to be somewhat of a trend-setting. The tension in the room dimmed a bit as a few people followed suit along with him, making their own plates of goodies.
I think I was just the first to break the camel's back. Luke realised. He wasn’t the tallest, meanest or scariest looking there, but he appreciated free food the most. The cashier also had a measure of confidence in him, what with the whole shotgun hanging in his coat.
He was almost finished with his plate when an older man in a full three-piece approached from his side, grabbing one of his pretzels from the snack table.
“Nervous eater as well, are you?” The older man asked, his voice deep but nervous. It was strange to hear such an aged voice coming from a man wearing a shark mask, but such was the world of Supes.
“Something like that.” Luke nodded, munching on his pretzel. “I mostly just like taking advantage of free things.”
“A good habit to build young.” The older man said, giving a forced laugh. Then he extended a hand towards Luke. “Gr-I mean, Snapper.”
Yeah, I would’ve just said Luke if he hadn’t messed up the alias thing first.
“V.” The cashier said simply, shaking the Snapper’s hand. The old man had a strong grip, which Luke guessed was accentuated by the nerves. He was practically shaking. If the cashier hadn’t invested two points in Brute, it probably would’ve hurt a bit.
“So what do you do, V?” Snapper asked, following him as Luke wandered his way away from the snack table and to an empty spot.
He hadn’t given any inclination that the older man should follow him but Luke didn’t see a reason to shoe him away. That would be quite rude, even for a supervillain like himself.
“Do you mean like powers or what I do for work?” Luke asked, biting into his pretzel. It was a bit hard to move the bottom of his mask around to eat but he made it work.
“Ah, I meant your powers.” Snapper clarified. “I apologise if that’s rude to ask. I’m sort of new to this whole Supe thing. My wife pushed me into it, said I needed a hobby after I retired.”
“It might offend someone else. As for me I…” Luke paused, trying to think of a good but vague way to describe what he did. “...have a rather unique powerset. Easier to show than explain, here.”
Luke scarfed down the pretzel till there was only a tiny bit left, then flicked it as hard as he could, pulling on the super in his heart. Punchline caught the tiny end of the fire in an instant, drawing from the little humour Luke found in cooking his pretzel to perfection.
Then he blew it out and ate the last piece.
“So you’re a pyromancer? Please, son, I might be older, but I’ve been reading comics since I was a boy.” Snapper asked, taking a bite of his own muffin. “Is that power of yours a Pulse-type?”
“Yep.” Luke lied.
He was not a Pulse. Under the loose and wide power types, Pulses were powers that controlled, created, extinguished or just in general interacted with a type of energy. It could be just one form of energy, multiple or any type of energy but the important part was it was some sort of control or creation.
That was not even close to Luke’s powerset, but looking at his Punchline, it did seem that way.
“What about you?” Luke questioned.
“Mine’s also a bit hard to explain.” Snapper said, sounding a little sheepish. “I uh… snap. My body can accelerate really fast for a moment in time, but I haven’t ever been able to do it in quick succession. It used to be more impressive but my powers slowed down with me over the years.”
“I see. Still sounds useful.” Luke said.
There was a bit of an awkward silence after that as the cashier munched on his food and the Snapper slowly bit down his muffins. The old man still hadn’t explained why he’d followed after Luke, whether it was because of nerves or just forgetfulness and it created this strange, almost forced vibe.
It also didn’t seem like he wanted to say why either, although the answer was obvious. Snapper wanted a teammate and after Luke had been polite, he’d taken that as his in. Unless Luke specifically told him to leave him alone, the old man would probably just stick around him until the games begun.
The question was, how did Luke feel about that?
Should he just ignore him?
Accept him?
Tell him to hit the high road?
There was a weird divide in his brain that Luke was slowly starting to get used to, distuniging what he wanted to do, as Luke the cashier, from what V the supervillain would do. Looking at Snapper, Luke didn’t mind him hanging around. But V saw something much different.
He’s henchmen-sized, henchmen-ready and henchmen-willing.
Luke also needed to build experience hanging around other Supes, so as much as he wanted to go hide in the corner and shoe Snapper away, now was the best time to start making connections.
“Seems people are grouping together.” Luke prompted.
“It’s definitely safer,” Snapper added. “From what I’ve seen over the years, the first game of the Pit is what gets most people. Easier to manage the chaos with others.”
There was a short pause as the two looked at each.
“Wanna team up then?” Luke finally asked, realising Snapper wasn’t going to.
He couldn’t see the old man’s expression from behind the mask but his body language Snapper looked to have visibly relaxed when he asked, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. That was good even if it wasn’t Luke’s primary intention to calm the man. A calm henchman was a useful henchman in his eyes.
“I like the sound of that.” Snapper nodded. Perhaps as a sign of trust, he reached down to his belt and plucked one of the many knives off, showing it to Luke. “You can borrow this if you want.”
If Luke's heart could be warmed, it was, in a weird way. Receiving such a vote of confidence when they were complete strangers felt rather wholesome, even if it were through some grim means. Still, the cashier was plenty equipped, so he just waved off Snapper, flashing the twin pistols holster at his waist.
From the way the Snapper almost jumped back Luke assumed his weapons must’ve startled the old man. Which was a little worrying considering some of the much more startling competition around them.
He’d been keeping an eye on the bustling in the room and the steady stream of new arrivals as he chatted to Snapper. Strange to say, among a crowd of people all dressed like social outcasts, there were still a few that stood out.
Two in particular.
The first was at least eight feet tall, composed of pure black metal with glowing red beams where eyes should be and every weapon known to a man strapped or installed on it’s body. For something so tall its frame was skeletal, with gangly silver fingers that twitched every time its head snapped in another direction. Luke didn’t know whether the thing was a robot controlled by a Prodigy in the room, a cyborg who was more machine than man at this point or something else equally terrifying.
What he did know was that it was the only creature in the room standing next to the gate, as it appeared no other member of Team Baslisk wanted to go anywhere near it.
Which included the second creature that stood out to Luke.
That one was…
What the hell even is that?
The cashier tried to not catch the attention of its vertical pupils, doing his best not to look it in the eyes. Luke had seen many accounts of an Exodus fundamentally changing one's appearance and physiology to varying degrees. It wasn’t the usual but if you saw a dragon-headed person walking down the street you generally were expected to assume they were human first before you started screaming bloody murder.
In saying that, it was still deeply chilling seeing what must’ve been a seven-foot-tall hunched-over cross between a werewolf and a demon. Its dark brown fur moulded into scales around parts of its body, particularly its head, which possessed an elongated snout full of teeth and horns that curled back like a crown. Although it looked to prefer standing, its double-jointed legs made it pretty clear the thing would be faster on all fours, especially with claws like it had.
What was perhaps the most chilling thing about the creature was its behaviour. Like the robot, it had isolated itself from the rest of the people in the waiting bay, growling a snapping its head at anyone who even got near it.
Well, that’s two hyper-violent loners who both look like they could tear me in half.
Not a good start, but considering they were Team Basilisk there was a semi-decent chance they wouldn’t be pitted against each other.
Still… maybe forming a bigger team was a good idea. Luke did not think he and Snapper combined would make much of a difference.
“We need someone else,” Luke mumbled, scanning the room. “Someone who’s got a bit more flash to their powers.”
Someone who could either be a decent defensive or offensive tool, which Luke and Snapper could complement.
“Having another pair of hands or two would be nice.” Snapper agreed.
That’s a good henchman.
“Exactly,” Luke said, grabbing the smaller Supe by the shoulders and directing towards the snack table. “Now, you go try and mingle over there. Bring me back another pretzel if all else fails.”
His henchmen grumbled a little before reluctantly accepting. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna go find us a star,” Luke answered, pushing Snapper towards the snack table before slipping through the crowds of people, ducking and weaving between people as he looked for something that stood out.
“THE GAME’S GATES WILL BE OPENING IN FIVE MINUTES. THE GAME’S RULES WILL BE EXPLAINED BY THE ANNOUNCER AFTER THE GATES OPEN!” Sounded over the speakers, loud enough to vibrate the room.
Yeah I get it, time is of the essence and all that.
He had five minutes to find someone with an ability that was at least somewhat useful. Something that was consistent and Luke could rely on, considering how finicky Punchline could be. He still hadn’t figured out the kinks just yet.
The cashier knew what he was looking for, weaving between people. Someone distinct but approachable. Someone capable but not social enough to have found their own group yet. Someone… someone…
Bedsheet?