Saturday, May 26

  The Valiant Stadium

  Mission:

  - Survive

  The roar of chaos swallowed the stadium whole, a symphony of screams and explosions that vibrated through the metal bleachers like a living beast. Agents swarmed the field below, their black tactical gear gleaming under the harsh floodlights, faces masked in grim determination. Wands—sleek, enchanted rods humming with latent power—were drawn and pointed skyward, tracking the trio of massive aircraft circling like vultures. One agent team hauled a rocket launcher onto the turf, the heavy tube requiring two burly figures to steady it on a tripod, its barrel tilting upward with a mechanical whine. The air reeked of smoke and ozone, the sharp tang of magic clashing with the acrid bite of gunpowder.

  Panic gripped the crowd like a vice. Thousands surged toward the exits, bodies pressing into a human bottleneck, elbows jabbing, voices cracking in desperation. Children wailed, parents hoisted them overhead, and the ground trembled under the stampede. But not everyone could escape; the warzone trapped hundreds in its maw, exposed and vulnerable.

  "Come on, come on!" Mikey's voice pierced the din from somewhere behind me, raw and frantic. But my eyes locked onto something else—three figures scrambling up the bleachers like shadows fleeing the light: Maddie, Jamal, and Elf. Their movements were deliberate, too calculated amid the frenzy. This had to be part of their scheme. A double strike—flood the locker room to sow confusion, draw our focus inward, then unleash hell from above. But why? Security had just been ramped up; a petty flood seemed trivial compared to this aerial apocalypse raining down on innocents.

  The question burned, but answers could wait. Rage propelled me forward, my boots pounding the vibrating steps. They spotted me too late. Maddie and Elf dove aside as I barreled into Jamal like a freight train. He slammed into the bleacher rail with a sickening crack, the metal groaning under the impact. He howled in agony, clutching his side, but I pinned him there, my Mageball glove—still strapped on, its enchanted leather crackling with residual energy—clenched into a fist. My teeth ground together, fury boiling in my veins like molten lava.

  "You did this, didn't you?!" I snarled, my voice a thunderclap over the distant booms.

  "What—no!" Jamal gasped, his eyes wide with shock, sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill wind whipping through the stadium.

  Thunk. My fist hammered the bleacher beside his head, denting it into a sharp V. The vibration shot up my arm, but I didn't care. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing like a cork in stormy seas.

  Two sharp clicks echoed—guns chambering. I whipped my head left. Maddie and Elf stood poised, weapons leveled at my skull, their faces etched with lethal intent.

  "You get off him..." Maddie growled, her voice low and venomous, eyes narrowed to slits.

  "Or what? Please—tell me." I spat the words, my pulse thundering in my ears. "You guys orchestrated all this, but no one wanted to believe me—"

  "What?!" Jamal shrieked, his voice cracking like glass under pressure.

  "Do you really think we could summon planes from the sky to bomb a damn football game?" Elf shot back, his brow furrowed in genuine bewilderment, the gun in his hand trembling slightly—not from fear, but confusion.

  "You tell me! You're the moles. You're the ones working for the TSA."

  Elf's confusion deepened, his elfin features twisting. "No... you are..."

  The accusation hung in the air, a fragile thread snapping my grip. I loosened my hold just a fraction, eyes narrowing as thoughts tumbled through my mind like clothes in a dryer—chaotic, relentless. Who was lying? Who was the puppet?

  But then—BOOM. The ground heaved violently, a shockwave ripping through Section B. Debris erupted in a fountain of twisted metal and splintered seats, three massive bleacher fragments hurtling toward us like missiles from the abyss.

  "Whoa!" We all screamed in unison, diving for cover as the projectiles whistled overhead, crashing into the stands with earth-shaking thuds.

  I staggered to my feet, lungs burning from the dust-choked air, but I kept Jamal pinned like a thumbtack on a map. The stadium was a inferno now, flames licking the edges of the field, heat radiating in waves that scorched my skin.

  "Please tell me, please tell me, where you got that information from? What have I done, other than try to save myself and everyone else?!" I shrieked, my voice raw, echoing the desperation clawing at my chest.

  "How does 'trying to kill someone under the school' mean saving everybody?" Jamal countered, jabbing a finger at me despite his pain. "I saw you."

  "I know you did—all because Nikki didn’t want to be with you. Now look where we are!" I gestured wildly at the pandemonium, the sky streaked with tracer fire from the agents' wands.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  But instead of the expected rage—a bellow of fury and denial—I got silence. Then a murmur of utter bewilderment, as if I'd switched to an alien tongue mid-sentence.

  "Wait... wait... huh?" The three chorused, their voices overlapping in discordant confusion, like radios tuned to different frequencies.

  "You thought that’s why I told...?" Jamal asked, his eyes searching mine, piecing together a puzzle I hadn't seen.

  "What?" Maddie and Elf echoed, lowering their guns a fraction, exchanging baffled glances. "What else were we using as leverage?"

  "Listen... it was a way to get Connor to talk to Nikki, but either way, I had to do it. I might as well get something out of it." Jamal's words spilled out in a rush, laced with regret.

  "So did you have to?" I demanded, the heat from nearby fires pressing against my back like a branding iron, sweat trickling down my spine.

  "Nikki and this aren’t even remotely related. After I saw you basically boom her into the fridge, about two days later, that same girl—she came up to me talking—"

  "Her?" I interrupted, a chill racing through me despite the blaze.

  "Oh my—kill me now..." Maddie sighed, holstering her gun and facepalming, her shoulders slumping in exasperation.

  Jamal continued through a series of sighs and groans, his face a mask of regret. "She said she was on a mission to expose a mole that wanted intel on the MP system, and that she had found out it was you... but she needed evidence, and since I was there, I was perfect."

  "That toe-sucking cockroach," I seethed, the pieces clicking into place with a nauseating clarity. Nikki—or whoever she truly was—had played us all like fiddles.

  "So everything that you did—snitching on me, flooding the locker room, this, ambushing me while I was riding home from school, setting a fake bomb in the school—"

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, now we didn’t do all that. I don’t even know what school you go to, and again, this was not us! It was you... maybe..." Jamal reasoned, his voice gaining strength, eyes pleading for understanding.

  I... I... I didn’t know what to say. The world tilted, the explosions fading to a distant rumble as betrayal sank in like poison.

  "Agent—are you hearing this?!" I shouted into my comms, my voice cracking with urgency. Silence. "Agent?! D7!?"

  Nothing but static, a void that echoed my growing dread.

  "Who’s D7?" Elf asked, stepping closer, curiosity overriding caution.

  I spun, finger jabbing the air to silence them. "Shut up—all of you. I need to find her now."

  Adrenaline surged as I bolted down the bleachers, leaping over debris and dodging fleeing spectators. The field below was a graveyard of smoldering craters and abandoned gear, the grass charred black, air thick with the metallic scent of blood and magic residue. Bodies lay scattered—some stirring, others ominously still—amid the wreckage. I wove through the exodus, slipping between clusters of terrified fans, one man even attempting to scale a support beam to escape, his fingers scraping desperately against the slick metal. Fifty feet down to concrete? That was a death sentence disguised as hope.

  My mind raced, unraveling the web of deceit. It was so obvious now, excruciatingly clear. This entire nightmare—red herrings, misinformation, accusations flying like shrapnel. We'd been played, masterfully. I'd fixated on Jamal, Maddie, and Elf, blind to the strings pulling them. Why were they so perfectly suspicious? Why pin it on me? Why else? Why else? The questions hammered in my skull, syncing with my pounding heart.

  Then, through the haze, I spotted her. Mari—poised amid the chaos, her face a facade of fear and concern, but her eyes... cold, calculating. My glove hummed with pent-up energy, anger channeling through it like lightning. I charged, footsteps thundering like war drums, drawing stares from those around her.

  She turned, her expression shifting from feigned alarm to something darker as our eyes locked.

  "Where’s Nikki? Where’s the other guy?" Mari asked, her voice steady, too composed for the apocalypse unfolding.

  "I’m sure they’ll be fine," I replied, my words dripping with venom, each syllable a blade.

  Her brows furrowed in mock disgust, and she retreated a step, ascending a bleacher as if claiming higher ground. "Cory... what are you doing?"

  "Stop, for the love of everything, calling me that!" The name grated like nails on chalkboard, a reminder of the false trust we'd shared.

  "Now is not the time—"

  "Oh, it is. It is alright." I advanced, the ground quaking from another distant blast, flames casting flickering shadows across her face.

  Mari's disturbance deepened, her hands hovering near her belt—yellow, probably enchanted, ready for a draw. "Yeah, I’ll give it to you, you’re a pretty decent spy," I continued, my voice a low growl. "A better manipulator too. I always wondered why you carried that aura of doom and secrets. I chalked it up to bad sleep habits, but no—it's because you're a traitor."

  "And what?" She tilted her head, unfazed, her lips curling into a subtle smirk.

  "When Jamal ambushed me in the alleyway—those pink smoke bombs that nullified Perks, not to mention the fake bomb under the school—that wasn’t even him. It was you."

  Her eyes widened, but not in terror. Excitement flickered there, eager and impressed, like a predator savoring the hunt. It threw me, words stumbling from my lips. "And—and—even then, you used Jamal and his crew to frame me, knowing we'd chase our tails in circles. You just sat back, watched the circus, sipped your tea, and now... bombed innocent people."

  "Stop with your 'bombing innocent people,'" she hissed, her voice slicing through the air like a whip. "You’re not a saint. You’ve never been."

  She descended toward me now, each step deliberate, radiating an impending doom that rooted me in place, my core trembling despite the rage.

  "Now, granted, as much as I may want to hide it, I've already done my dues."

  "What dues?" I demanded, fists clenched, the glove sparking faintly.

  She chuckled, a mocking trill that echoed in my ears, shaking her head as if I were a child. "I was sent as a TSA informant two months ago to extract intel on the new MP system. I planned to use Malachi—but then they paired me with you... and you made it so easy..."

  "I’m not afraid to kill you right now," I spat, though my voice wavered, betrayal's weight pressing down.

  "Your own words don’t even believe you. It’s honestly embarrassing." She stepped closer, her presence suffocating. "The only reason this succeeded was you. You're such a poor agent, you literally handed me the plan on a silver platter." Her laughter bubbled up again, cruel and triumphant. "Really, what made you think slamming me into a fridge would help your case?"

  "You shut it—" I lunged forward, but she held her ground, unflinching.

  "Your friends are almost as pathetic—if not worse. I got the information, relayed it to the TSA. What’s done is done. But this..." She gestured at the burning stadium, the aircraft droning overhead like harbingers. "This is just a little favor to them..."

  "What favor...?" I hissed, my breath shallow, the world narrowing to her smirking face.

  In a blur, she unsheathed her wand, the enchanted wood gleaming with malevolent energy, pointed straight at my heart. The air crackled, tension coiling like a spring ready to snap.