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 next day, when stepping into the arena, I still hear Shaman's quiet voice in my head. Our talk was short, but it left a strange impression in me. That man seems like an embodiment of calmness, but his early times in the new world were probably tormenting. Who was he before he became Shaman?
His words, however, also gave me courage. I'm ready for anything they throw at me.
Only eight Champions and eight partners sit on the contestant terraces now. There are also some of the eliminated contestants, but they sit on the standard terraces now.
The commentator greets both the viewers and the contestants again. If the audience was going wild yesterday, today it's even more intense. The final matches ensure that only the best of the best are present and the chances of the contestants are equal.
I see the people frantically typing on their pentops. They are most likely placing bets on the winner. Do I want to know what are my odds? Probably not. I'm still more into the outsider territory.
My first fight, which comes as number three, is surprisingly easy. The moves of my opponent, a burly Champion in his early thirties with a mechanical leg, are sluggish and uncoordinated. I would expect it at a Skirmish, but not here.
Later, when I return victorious on the terrace, Shaman tells me that my opponent couldn't control himself last night and got plastered. Since alcohol is way more toxic to Castaways than to the Healthy, he couldn't sweat out the intoxication fast enough and that was the reason for his downfall.
It seems I was incredibly lucky this time.
If only I could say it about my next fight, this time in the semifinals. The hulking Champion with long hair, flat nose and a giant artifical arm resembling a power shovel isn't going down as easily as his drunk colleague. A single punch of his arm powered with hydraulic engines is enough to send me to the opposite side of the arena and score him an instant Fatal point.
He already has two while I only managed to score two Clash points with the power of sheer luck. It seems that my Sherwood journey ends here and the London Challenge will have to wait.
As I stand up after the last crushing hit, I think about Shaman's words. Maybe he was wrong after all... There's no way for me to defeat monstrosities like this, extremely powerful and overflowing with Augments. Not now, not two years later, not ten years later.
Then I remember what he told me before we finally said our goodbyes and returned to our huts.
Keep in mind, Zoya, that nobody is omnipotent. We all have our strength, but even more weaknesses. And that applies to everyone. Even a Champion of Champions has a weak spot, you only have to be observant enough to find out what it is. No matter the situation, never lose focus.
Beautiful words, okay. But what the hell is the weakness of that dude that's slowly progressing towards me, looking at me like I was some kind of pest? He's immensely strong, rather fast, can control his artificial arm well even though it's much bigger than his natural arm. What's his weak spot?
