Prototype Dorian

24.

Third day of the Selection

The broadcast all last night was full of replays and discussions on the matches of the day. Surprisingly, despite only being in one out of the ten matches that took place, I was the most talked about. Videos of me powering through a hailstorm of bullets to reach Min-Ju were analyzed from multiple angles, and the commentators constantly emphasized how I was the only one with a Gift who didn't use it to win, even though I'm sure my Gift helped me survive those bullets.

Morgan also won their match, but there was only a short fifteen-minute segment showing it. They teleported all over the arena throughout the duel, which makes it a fascinating watch. I wished more of it was shown so I could analyze it and figure out how to take them on. I don't know why it didn't get that much coverage. Maybe this teleporting fighting style was too unique and thus too difficult to comment on.

And today, it's the semifinals. My opponent is Joaquin Romero, who is sponsored by General Lucius Romero, his uncle. Unlike Ariandelle, who sponsors only the best cadet with the goal of getting them into NovaTopia, General Romero sponsors anybody he has a personal connection to regardless of qualifications. He's gotten most of his family and friends to one of the shuttles this way. I wish I had that many family members, then I wouldn't be stuck with Ryan.

The four arenas from yesterday have been merged into two. Joaquin and I enter our designated arena, while Morgan and Nicolas Bailey enter the one across the stadium.

Next to me, Joaquin's skin glistens with a metallic sheen, mirroring the sword he wields. That is General Romero's Gift—Harden, the ability to turn one's body as hard as metal—and Joaquin is activating it already. I can't have my Gift activated all the time like him, so I need to be strategic in the way I use it.

I tighten my grip around my weapon as we circle each other warily. When the arena door closes, signaling the start of the match, Joaquin wastes no time lunging towards me.

I raise my sword to block his path, but it shatters upon the impact of his Hardened arm. Great, one second in, and I've already lost my weapon. I scramble back and focus on avoiding both his sword and his limbs.

Every time there's an opening—which is a lot since Joaquin is not that good at close combat—I throw a punch at him, but it seems to cause way more harm to my knuckles than to him. And every time he manages to land a hit on me, even if it's just a graze, the pain is excruciating. I heard that being hit by a Hardened fist hurts ten times more, and now I know it's true.

Fuck this annoying Gift. I need to start using mine too.

I direct heat to my right palm. Just a little, not enough for it to smoke and give my plan away. With a swift sidestep, I dodge Joaquin's oncoming blade. Then, I grab his arm and increase the heat.

Joaquin yells and leaps back, his sword slipping from his grasp. "Ow, what the fuck?"

I snatch the fallen sword. One minute in, and I've regained my weapon. But Joaquin does not even notice that; his attention is solely on examining and massaging the spot where I burned him.

"Seriously, what the fuck was that?" he mutters. "That was fucking painful."

I frown. I don't think I hurt him that badly. Maybe his Hardened skin conducts heat better and intensifies the pain. "Sorry. What if I use the sword instead?"

I hold up the said weapon and channel heat into my hands. Smoke rises from my burned flesh, but the beauty of the heated metal is a distraction from the pain. The stainless steel morphs from a silvery sheen to a deep brown, and finally, to a mesmerizing blend of blue and purple.