Cameron shot out from his starting position like a comet of steel and hydraulics, blitzing across the arena, the boost jets on the back of the Headsman kicking up a storm of dust and sand in its wake. His gaze was locked on the Boxer unit a hundred yards away from him, studying every single minute twitch or flash of movement, or in this case, the lack of one.

  "Why's he not moving..." Cameron thought out loud.

  "He's waiting... for an opening," Aeia said.

  "Seeing as I don't have that luxury..." He said, gripping the sword with both hands, dropping low as he dashed in, winding up to swing, "Then I'm going to at least make a statement."

  As the distance between the two narrowed to only twenty yards, Cameron made his opening salvo, leaping ten feet into the air, turning on his side as he did. With a grunting strain, he whipped his sword in a wide arc, using the boost jets on his right side to spin three hundred and sixty degrees. The heavy blade picked up speed, screaming as it cut through the air as it rocketed towards his opponent's right shoulder.

  THWUMF

  A dull sound of impact, combined with the painful rattling of his bones, told Cameron that he'd missed, and not by a narrow margin. He looked up, his eyes going wide in disbelief as he saw that it hadn't been inches, but feet that separated the two of them now.

  "What the fu-"

  WHAM

  In the blink of an eye, Arno Kane had responded to Cameron's attack with one of his own, flashing forward, stepping into Cameron's guard, before dropping down, and leveling a powerful right hook to the rib section of the Headsman, right where the cockpit sat. The metal shell crumpled under the impact, creating a wide indentation so deep, it was almost touching Cameron as he staggered back.

  Arno chased him down as Cameron struggled to get his bearings, not even having enough time to bring his sword up to protect himself, before a combo of punches started to pepper his cockpit from every angle. Arno rocked back, moving his head and torso in a crescent style pattern, as he used the momentum to deliver another devastating hook to the other side of the Headsman, finally finishing the barrage with a hard cross to the mechs midsection, taking Cameron off his feet, before a powerful haymaker planted him into the hard sand.

  Cameron groaned through gritted teeth as he impacted the ground, his senses running haywire as they were bombarded by a series of blaring warning alarms and error messages. It seemed like there was another major difference between this system and the one on the main-line that Fletcher had neglected to inform him; He could feel pain here. There was no numbing sensation or loss of feeling that he'd expected to experience as he took the full brunt of the Boxers attack. Instead, Cameron could feel his own body scream in protest as it was rocked from side to side, his back practically begging him to stay down as it cushioned his fall.

  "Alright..." He said with a strain, leaping back and using the boost jets on the front of the Headsman to create space, "Not doing that again."

  "Twenty percent of our boosters on the left and right side are damaged and destroyed," Aeia said, "Our ability to tactically reposition at close range has been reduced by nearly half."

  "That's not good..." Cameron said, pulling his sword back up, waiting for Arno to follow up. To his surprise however, the Boxer didn't move. He was in the spot that he'd been when Cameron dashed back, arms up in a guard as he bounced on his toes.

  "What the fuck is he doing?!" Cameron yelled in frustration. He took a step towards the man, and growled when he saw Arno step back, making sure they stayed at the initial distance.

  "Making you come to him," Aeia said, as a series of small grey circles began to appear along the Boxer's ankles, feet and hips, "His jets are positioned in such a way that it allows for optimal movement forwards and backwards. He's baiting you, Cam."

  "Well that's no fun," Cameron said, as he started to circle Arno, keeping his blade raised in case the man decided to go on the offensive. Arno followed Cameron's lead, shifting ever so slightly to stand face to face with Headsman from where he was in the center of the arena.

  "It's not supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be effective."

  "Well, it's certainly that, I guess," Cameron said, trying to search for an opening as he and Arno danced with each other. As he slowly stalked around the backside of the arena, Cameron got a good look at the crowd through the shimmering plasma shield. He couldn't spot Priya in the crowd anymore, which he figured was probably for the best. Still, seeing the bloodthirsty crowd cheer and wave, anxiously waiting for something to happen as they peered through the haze of energy was enough to fill him with a sense of anxiety all his own.

  "What's your plan, Cam?" Aeia asked, bringing Cameron back to the present situation in front of him.

  "I... I don't-" He started. He wanted to say that he didn't know. That if Kane had figured him out this quickly, it was only a matter of time before he'd be picked apart. He stopped though, as the plasma barrier flickered ever so slightly behind the Boxers shoulder, and suddenly, Cameron could feel the beginnings of an approach begin to take shape.

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  "I got a plan," He said, gripping his sword tighter with both hands, squeezing the physilight rods as hard as he could in his palms, feeling their gentle heat pulsing inside.

  "Care to share with the rest of us?" She asked.

  "Not particularly," He said, taking a step forward. Just as expected, Arno moved back, keeping their distance.

  "Any reason why?"

  "Cause you'd say it's a stupid plan,"

  “Is it a stupid plan?"

  "Probably."

  "Great," She said sarcastically.

  Cameron dashed forward, his boosters firing on their max setting, lowering his sword to waist level, slightly drawing it back in position to strike. He counted down as the distance quickly melted between him and Arno. From dozens of feet to ten, from ten to five, from five to one, until he was just inches away, and then... He stopped.

  Anticipating the attack, Arno's jets fired as he began to leap backwards, moving with surprising speed and alacrity. It was all for naught however, he was right, where Cameron wanted him.

  "Gotcha," He growled, dashing forward as he brought his sword up, catching Arno mid leap with a mighty slash that caught the boxer right in the hip. A massive SCHING echoed in the space between them as Cameron's blade found purchase, shearing off a massive chunk of steel from the Boxer's mid section to the point that a piece of the iron shell that made up his opponent's cockpit glinted out amongst its painted white body. The Boxer went flying back as Cameron chased him, ensuring to repay his opponent ten fold for the damage he'd inflicted upon him. As he came up on Arlo's side, Cameron raised his blade high, intending to sever him into two.

  A sick sinister laughter rang out in his mind as he brought the blade down, his vision flickering and flashing as the sand filled arena changed to that of a familiar dust filled asteroid in the void of space. His opponent was no longer a white and silver Boxer, but a hideous twisted void of black shadows with long metallic claws and red baleful eyes. Cameron felt his stomach drop as he completed his swing, cutting into the monstrosity, only to be rewarded, not with blood or sparks, but a spray of black that seemed to wrap around the entity like some sort of protective shield. Cameron felt his hands break out in a cold sweat, as his breath grew spastic and harried. The figure flew back aways, crashing into a crater before skidding to a stop.

  "No... Not now," he whispered softly, feeling a tremble beginning to break out across his body, as he watched the figure stand up, dusting itself off. The shadows reached out, licking the open air, as they formed a set of wings on its back, before wrapping around itself, contorting the figure of a grotesque transformation, becoming more monstrosity than mech. Cameron dashed back, as far back as he could, until he felt the wall of one of the research buildings keeping him from getting away, all the while a howling cackle filled his mind, as those same ten words seemed to call to him from all around in a multitude of voices both familiar and foreign.

  "You're not as good as you think you are... Pellyn"

  ***

  Fletcher Kahl's gaze was affixed to the giant screen in his production room, watching silently as he studied Ket's movements in the Headsman. It felt... odd watching the young pilot zip around using the momentum from the mech's giant blade to angle himself into different unorthodox positions of attack. Like he was being transported back in time, back to better days. Before politics and the council got in the way, and Fletcher only had to focus on himself and his team... Before Ella-

  "He's doing good," Priya's mouse-like voice squeaked up, pulling Fletcher from his self reflection. He turned to glare at her, well, as much as he could glare in this body, and saw her pointing up to the screen. Fletcher turned to see the boy, likely figuring out Arno Kane's tricks, dash in and delay his attack until Arno backstepped. The black blade came up hard, and Fletcher had to fight the urge to cheer the kid on. Partially because Arno's fighting style nearly bored him to tears, and partially because it seemed that the Headsman was being piloted by someone who understood its use... at least on a surface level.

  "He is..." He said with a nod, "I'm surprised that he can hold his own against a Gamma... But It seems that Arno is a Gamma only in name."

  "Didn't you pick Arno though?" Priya asked.

  "I did..." Fletcher said, "It looks like it was the right call to do so. Any other overly aggressive pilot would have torn him apart by now."

  "I knew you wouldn't feed him to the wolves," Priya said, and Fletcher could practically hear the smug smile in her voice. He ignored her, focusing on the fight. Ket had just dashed in, angling for a killing blow, but as the sword fell, it seemed to barely clip his opponent's hip, taking off a chunk of steel, but not finishing the fight. If he had eyes on this proxy, Fletcher would have raised them in surprise in confusion.

  "He missed?" He said under his breath.

  "No sir, It looks like he hit him to me," Priya said, and Fletcher, though regretting his decision on letting her stay, decided to educate her.

  "No... He didn't" Fletcher said, pausing the footage momentarily to show the point of impact, "He was lined up to sever the Boxer unit in half. But he hesitated here and gave Arno enough time to twist his body in a way that deflected the brunt of the attack. He missed, and I want to know why."

  "Nerves?" Priya asked.

  "Not likely," Fletcher said, unpausing the video, and moving it forward until it matched the live speed. Now, the battlefield was a bit different. Ket was all the way at the far wall of the arena, the head of the Headsman, whipping back and forth frantically, as Arno slowly got to his feet, black lighting lashing out across the entirety of the Boxer, wrapping around him like a cloak, before settling around his wrists and hands like a pair of deadly static chains.

  "Well," Fletcher said, "I don't know what happened prior, but I know what the future holds. Your date is as good as dead."

  "W-What makes you say that?" Priya asked, more worry in her tone than what Fletcher was used to leaving her lips.

  His sigh came out muted and laced with static as he pointed to the screen, "Because Arno Kane has just activated his Combat Protocol."