Europe, distant future. A meteorite impacted on the area of Russia, turning the area into a dead zone. Moreover, it emits a strange radiance which increases the impact survivors and their offsprings' endurance and strength, but also causing them to...
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The day came sooner than expected. Ryan parks on the arena's parking lot; he uses a space labelled as Reserved for the Combatants since almost all spaces for regular visitors are taken. When I see the arena and the people gathered in front of it, I feel a strong urge to turn tail.
So many people will see me. Maybe some of them will cheer for me, but the majority will chant against me. I'm sure about that. People love their celebrities, those Champions who already reached success, preferrably those who have their own action figures and T-shirts.
Nobody cares about someone who just appeared out of nowhere.
On the other hand, all Champions have been in this position once. Odin, Scarla, even Nightingale. As I told Ryan, every journey begins with a single step. It's something my dad told me.
Maybe the people on the other side of the wall have teleportation machines, but we don't. That means nothing is going to miraculously carry you straight to the goal. If you want something, you have to deserve it, take all the necessary steps to make it. And every journey, no matter how long, begins with a single step.
This is for you, dad. I'll take this first step in your honor.
Ryan says nothing. Maybe he's aware that stupid phrases like How do you feel? or Are you ready? would only make me more nervous. I personally feel like the biggest contradiction walking on mechanical legs. I am ready to take on everything that crosses my way, but at the same time, I just wanna hide somewhere out of sight and wait until this fuss just ceases.
However, there's no turning back.
The main entrance is completely different from what we saw the day I registered. The whole place is crowded, both terminals which sell tickets are burdened by long queues. The girl selling souvenirs probably feels more useful today since a similar queue lines up in front of her cubicle.
"Do we have to wait here...?" I ask.
"No," Ryan replies and points at a holographic arrow floating above the main hallway. It points to the right and says: CHAMPIONS ENTRANCE.
We ignore the vibrant crowds and aim in the arrow's direction. It guides us into the same room where I registered, but now, the biggest door leading from the room are open. They lead into a large (I don't know if this is considered large since I haven't seen any other arenas, but I'll go with this) outdoor arena with a sand base. I feel the soft grains under my feet as I step in, followed by Ryan.
I gulp as I see the terraces slowly filling with people. Above my head, there are four massive TV screens in a square-shaped pattern, so even the most distant viewers can see what's happening.
So they will be able to see my failure.
"So, this is where we have to part ways," Ryan tells me, pointing at the terrace closest to the arena. There are already some people sitting, about fifteen of them - of course, the partners of Champions. Ryan then does something unimaginable - hugs me. "Good luck, Zoya. I'll like you no matter what."
