11
SCOTTY
Half an hour left.
My chest squeezes at the thought of them.
So fucking young.
And one of them is dead. His head and body left to be squashed by our tribikes.
But I can’t break down. I’m the one who needs to keep it together, to stay strong for Tiger and the quiet boy I’ve taken under my wing who’s quickly becoming like a second brother to me. I need to keep us all alive. But if not all of us can make it . . .
“I’ll distract her.”
Tiger’s helmet swings in my direction. “What?! No! Why the fuck would you say that? I’m not leaving you!”
“Tiger—”
“No, he’s right.”
A bolt of surprise shoots through me at Alby’s voice, firmed with resolve, albeit with a shake to it. He continues, “We can’t separate. We’re stronger and safer together.”
“Exactly! We stick together! The Powerpuff Girls always stick together!”
I don’t know how my brother can say that so seriously, but now is not the time to mull it over.
The Bonding Games Champion is right behind us.
“Box her in.”
They obey me without question.
Falling back, we silently agree on me and Tiger each taking a side of her, with Alby slowing gradually, planning to get behind her; it’s certain death if he were to try and block her from the front with the way Ezla charges at her opponents with no qualms about potentially damaging herself in the process.
Not that I’ve ever seen that happen. It’s like she’s indestructible.
Maybe she’s made of taalk under all that armour?
But at least he’ll have a smidge of an advantage to prepare himself if she tries to reverse on him and flatten him under her wheels that way.
It’s way too easy to do as planned, and that should’ve been my first warning that this isn’t going to go at all how I wanted it to. But now that I’m in this position, I’m not even sure exactly what it is that I want to do. I could swear I had a plan before I got here. I always have a plan.
“Hello, boys.”
At Ezla’s purring, robotically modified voice, a jolt zaps through my entire body.
“Got something for me?”
A chill glides down my spine . . . and my cock thickens.
What . . . the . . . fuck.
So distracted by her voice, her words, and my body’s bizarre reaction to both—as well as my brother’s outlandish response of, “Oh . . . well, hello there. As a matter of fact, I think you’ve just given something to me,” that matches my body’s tone, as if he’s trying to fucking flirt with her—especially when I did not feel like this when watching her on television .
. . I don’t realise what’s happening until it’s too late.
Until my left arm is sliced clean off at the armpit by one of Ezla’s curved Avri daggers.
And my brother’s right one.
I cry out at the same time as him, less from the pain and more from the disbelief—the pain isn’t actually horrific; it’s not nice in the slightest, but not as bad as it should be as I watch the limb that was once attached to my body scatter in a rain of translucent green pixels on the taalk below.
I’m just struggling to process the fact that the Champion so easily cut my motherfucking arm off like she’d slice carrots for dinner!
I mean, I’ve got one arm right now! There’s not even any blood!
As if I’m currently made of nothing but Avri pixels!
I’ve seen this on TV, but actually experiencing it . . .
My remaining hand clutches on to the luminous handlebar on my right in a vice-like grip in attempt to stay upright as the little vixen zooms off on her crimson tribike. For a moment, I wonder if she’s decided to spare us . . . before I realise it’s quite the opposite:
We’re such easy prey to the she-devil that she’s chosen to toy with us rather than kill us all outright.
And now she’s circling back around to continue playing with her food.
A colourful spew of curses draws my concerned gaze to my brother just as his arm begins to grow back. It’s neither slow nor fast, just right for me to be able to watch the pixels rebuilding everything that was lost, including the severed portion of his suit and glove.
Mine does the same then, causing me to cringe at the odd tingling sensation.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s weird as fuck, and I’d rather never experience this shit again.
And we can’t actually see our percentages, but we’ve learned in EvTS that losing a full limb like that usually takes about 25% off our health, so we really need to be more careful.
Even if we do still have a decent amount of health left, the regeneration serum can’t work forever.
“Are you guys okay?!”
Alby’s alarmed cry draws my attention to him coming up behind us, and I swallow. I don’t want to let him down, and I definitely don’t want to let my brother down.
But how can I reassure either of them when the only thing I’m certain about is that the next time the Champion greets us . . . we’re all dead?