To lurk, or not to lurk. That was the question.

  We hung around in the Labyrinth the next day, not doing much but waiting. We found a quiet little courtyard that had a table, half shaded by vines crawling across crossbeams, and set up a game there. The fae had an interesting strategy game that reminded me of Stratego, but it was like a chess game combined with a political strategy game where you play against your own faction to make them compete against your opponent’s factions; although the land grabs could be fast and dirty, they could also be easily lost.

  My last brain cell was on fire by the time our tokens flashed. Elora lounged on a bench, head on her arm, watching us when it happened. Her eyes flashed a hint of surprise—and then she was gone. I grabbed my tankard, drained it, and nodded at the others.

  We went to the seedy viewing hall that Akilah and I had visited the previous day. This time, we let Fig haggle the price, since we had time to spare and her silver tongue to sweeten the barter. It cost four diamonds for all of us. I shot the bouncer a dirty look when I passed him, but he was unfazed. He’d probably gotten worse.

  We piled into the viewing room. I stayed standing. I’d be pacing hard soon enough, if last time was anything to go by.

  The viewscreen showed a jungle. I searched my aspect screen, but Akilah beat me and toggled on the individual displays. The main screen swooped down to give an overview, causing the trees and jungle plants to fade into translucence. My arms crossed over my chest. System tricks.

  Nothing like hard proof of the things I kept dwelling on.

  Elora stood with three others in a small clearing surrounded by a bamboo fence. Directly across from them, at the other end of the field, another set of four waited behind their own. Everyone was weapons out, bouncing on their feet. Two hills sat equidistant from both teams, holographic flags floating above them.

  “Capture and hold,” Jake murmured from his spot on a bench.

  Fig sat on his lap, leaning against him. “Wish we’d brought snacks.”

  “I’m not going to get some, now,” Jake said, eyes glued to the wall.

  Tan’Fukshan, she was weird.

  The itch came back, the need to be there, do something. I wanted to protect Elora, but the pull of the battleground made it worse. The scenario beckoned, and something deeper called. I hungered for blood in the air, to feel heat in my chest.

  Was it me? Was it something the System programmed into me? Was it something I just adopted, knowing that I’d become a half-orc? I wished I knew who to ask.

  [System Alert: South Flag Activated]

  A war horn sounded, prickling the hairs on my arms. The fenced enclosures opened. Elora waited for the others to move, then chose her direction. A half-fae like Fig ran ahead of her. As he hit the undergrowth, he cast some sort of earth spell that tore up the jungle floor, carving a dirt track straight for one of the flags. The orc in her party—not a Salt Spear, I noticed with a spark of prideful disdain—howled and charged past the slender fae mage, shield raised. The kitsune with pistols whooped and raced past, bushy tail flashing.

  Elora veered away from the channel carved through the jungle, instead making one parallel with her [Wilderness: Blaze Path].

  I glanced at the other team. They were headed for the same flag, of course.

  “They’ve got a bard,” Fig noted, pointing.

  “They have Frodo Baggins with a lute,” Jake quipped.

  A minotaur led the way, followed by a feminine figure that was more shadow than flesh, and a kobold. Their shorter members meant a mobility loss. The minotaur was fast, the dark fae was faster, but the halfling and the kobold lagged. I relaxed a notch.

  The kitsune and the shadow fae got in range as they both crested the little mound the flag hovered above. It lit up, and the yellow hologram fluctuated.

  [System Alert: South Flag Contested]

  The kitsune drew her pistols and fired at the weaving shadow, which flickered in-and-out mid-dodge, closing the distance to the fox and the flag.

  The fox girl shouted, “Trick shot! Trick shot!”

  Bullets ricocheted from the trees, bouncing back across the field. The dark fae stumbled and vanished, only to appear again as the Minotaur charged up. The orc met it head-on, locking swords.

  “Did she just shout her own skill?” Akilah asked, glancing around at us before staring at the screen again.

  Frag nodded, his expression unreadable.

  “It could become a whole thing,” Jake chuckled. “It’s got a manhwa vibe. Let’s try it.”

  Frag and Akilah glanced his way. Simultaneously, Frag and Akilah expressed their disapproval. “No.”

  Jake and Fig cackled together.

  A brief grin hit my face. That kitsune girl was definitely from Earth, 2025. I’d bet my left nut on it—since I had them, these days. I spotted Elora, who had cut her way to a tree and climbed it, finding a stable perch.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The shadow fae and the kitsune were in a close combat dance, the fox girl using her guns like clubs, and the fae twirling daggers that darted like dragonflies, trying to break through the fox girl’s defense.

  The fae mage trundled up the hill, huffing, and paused to survey the fight. The flag gradually changed to a green hue. At the edge of the hill, the kobold whipped something out of its robes. It looked like a short ladder until it unfolded and again and again, snapping into a rickety-looking wooden tower. The lizard-faced creature bounded up it.

  The halfling bard strolled up the slope, strumming a note. Magic rippled in the air. The kitsune’s ears flinched and flattened. The flag started to lean towards yellow again, suggesting that the number of players mattered as much as being the first one there, maybe more. The bard opened his mouth—then squeaked, jumping back as a silver arrow slammed into the ground between his legs. Another arrow drove him back.

  “She’s pulling her attacks,” I murmured. The last fight she’d been different. She shot a centaur between the eyes. Of course that was when we all had imagined that the Arena was different from the PvE we’d faced in Convergent City. We should have known better. It was obvious in hindsight that we’d be facing the same life limitations.

  “It is possible for them all to survive,” Akilah said hopefully. “If they just focus on the objectives and not on killing each other.”

  That ‘if’ was hugely contingent. I tilted my head to crack my neck, rolling my shoulders. When it counted, she had to shoot to kill, even knowing what would happen. I should have foreseen her doing that, should have spoken to her about it, but I failed. Now I could only hope.

  The kobold stood at the top of the ladder, holding a longbow taller than it, with a recurve and pulleys that looked devastating. The overhead view showed the kobold’s projected trajectory—the mage.

  Unaware, the mage wove a spell. Damp earth slid around the skirmisher’s ankles, slowing them. Elora’s group went unscathed, but the minotaur fought knee-deep in sucking mud, roaring with frustration as he parried the orc’s blows with his two-handed sword. The dark fae stumbled with grace, using her shadow step to escape it. The short bard kept singing a rousing tune as he tugged his legs free, only to sink back in again.

  [Arc Arrow] Elora loosed just as the kobold did. Her silver arrow skipped along the shaft of the kobold’s, the black arrow slicing through the mage’s robes. He ducked and scrambled, his spell falling apart.

  I eyeballed the angles and distance. She wouldn’t be able to hit the kobold. However, with the power build of its bow, the kobold could hit her. It knocked another arrow and took aim. My jaw clenched.

  [System Alert: South Flag Dormant] [System Alert: North Flag Activated]

  The kitsune and the dark fae stopped fighting and started running. The kobold scrambled down the ladder and hit it. The wood fell back into a compact, portable shape. The Frodo wannabe tugged his legs out and stumbled off towards the north. The minotaur and the orc were still going at it when the earth fae dashed by.

  Elora slid down the tree more than climbed it and burst into a sprint, hands thrust before her to cast [Wilderness: Blaze Path]. The jungle fronds parted before her, giving her room to run in a direct line. She hurtled over a fallen tree covered in moss while nearby, the kitsune and the shadow fae alternated between struggling through the fern and taking shots at each other. Bullets and thrown daggers flew, reckless and fast, neither scoring a hit.

  So far, no one had seriously wounded anyone else. That wouldn’t last.

  Elora made it first, whipping between trees to come out onto the incline. She hesitated, spun around a few times, seemingly unsure of what to do until the dark fae and the kitsune broke through the underbrush. The holo of of a flag above turned green. The fox girl tumbled out and came up on a knee, aiming her pistols at the fae, who leapt high in the air, throwing daggers.

  A bullet clipped the fae, who spun in the air and hit the ground rolling. The kitsune caught a dagger in her thigh with a surprised yelp and tore it out. [Hit: -3 x15s Poison]

  Bad luck. In 15 seconds she’ll have lost 30 HP. The halfling showed up next, taking stock of the situation quickly. He started singing, and a soft green glow rose around the dark fae. Her display showed her HP going up. It wasn’t a full heal, but it did boost her by 5 HP. Better than no heal at all.

  Elora took a shot at the bard, who got his pantleg pinned to the ground.

  “Go back to the Shire!” Jake yelled.

  We all laughed a little too loudly, a brittle sound, crackling with nervous energy.

  A black-fletched shaft flew through the trees, embedding into the kitsune’s shoulder. She fell forward, stunned by the impact. The fae mage turned and threw his hands up, pulling a wall of crumbling earth up between them and the arrow’s origins.

  Elora stood under the flag, knocked an arrow, and drew with enough speed to make Legolas pop an approving eyebrow. But she did not release it. Her close-up display showed her biting her lower lip, squinting down the hill at the others.

  “Shoot, Elora,” I murmured, fists clenching.

  And still, she held her bow, wavering between the wounded shadow fae and the singing bard. The fae looked her way, pale teeth shimmered within her veil of shadows, and she disappeared. Elora’s eyes widened, and she swung around, backing up a step. She backed up another and spun again. I might have imagined the bow trembling in her hands, but then again, maybe I didn’t.

  The orc and the minotaur had done the same thing as the fae and the kitsune, but worse. Trees were felled in their wake, their blades and brute strength causing the crack and roar of a path they carved while trying to hit each other. Of everyone, the Kitsune had the most injuries, followed by the orc. I didn’t like the way things were going as they stood.

  I started to pace along the back wall, eyes trained on the viewscreen.

  The short bard strode up the hill, a triumphant song on his lips, the jungle breeze tossing his curly hair. Behind him, the kitsune rolled, lying on her side, a pistol wobbling in her furry hand. The fox girl lined up the shot. I held my breath.

  Elora loosed her arrow when a shadow appeared beside her. Silver streaked away to slam into the ground, useless, as daggers flashed at her, impossibly fast. She lifted her bow with the string facing inward, using its body to deflect a slash falling back a step.

  Mud rose up around the shadow fae’s legs, halting her in place. The shadow fae hissed and struggled. Elora backed out of reach, knocking a new arrow as she got distance enough for the arrow to do damage. And again, she hesitated, bow up, string taut, agony in her wide green eyes.

  “Back off, I’m warning you!” she yelled.

  I pressed my palm to my head, shaking it. Threats wouldn’t work. I knew she knew that, or would have, if she hadn’t been at war with herself. If she hadn’t been so kind at heart.

  The fae freed one of her legs and lunged. Elora stepped back again, her focus on the fae, seeing nothing else. If she’d noticed the dirt wall falling. If she’d seen the mage clutching his ears. If she’d widened her field of awareness, she’d have been more wary. The crack of a pistol went off, but the bard kept singing strong, clear notes. The roars of battle in the trees grew louder, and the dark fae lunged again.

  Elora released. The silver arrow slammed into the fae’s gut, and she stumbled back, grabbing the shaft. She looked up at Elora with a snarl.

  That was when a wicked black streak flew through the air and struck Elora right in the heart.