Published at 14th of June 2026 6:14 am

Chapter 361: Distraction

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As his laughter died he would have staggered and stumbled, his sense of balance all wrong, were it not for the blue orb keeping him up. He ended up pressed up against its curving side, staring up at the endless sky.

Some of his memories were returning to him, arriving in disjointed, bloodstained chunks. The Modules were helping him sort them, doing their own frantic examination. His realisation that the Dark had gotten into them, too, seemed to have woken them from their apathetic bliss, and now they were beginning to do a bit of their own panicking.

He and the Modules and the Dark and the Thrill had been one, a perfect Zero-Twelve state, a composite being able to make flawless use of Simulations predictive capabilities, Threat Analysis expansive awareness, Psychologys grasp of their opponents, Aimings ability to line up impossible shots, Cyberwarfares methods of digging into connections between people and equipment, both spiritual and technological.

And this time another element had been present. He saw himself cutting through enemy after enemy, switching smoothly between weapons, with the Spectral Claw always there alongside him, but the Spectral Claw was not as it normally was. It was tainted black by the strange energy hed borrowed, and he remembered pulling it, this energy, from the Interior, from the Dark Spirit, and it had empowered his Symbiotes. Something hed never done, never even known he could do, but in that state it had seemed natural.

The Claw, grown darker and heavier, had cut and grasped especially well. And so it had been with all his Symbiotes. Hed moved faster, fought better, hit harder. They all had, the Dark becoming a glue that allowed the merge to function better than ever, the Thrill sharpening them all to a razor edge.

But there had been a cost, and he realised then that he was lucky hed only been up against Tier 1s. He felt the strain of all of his Symbiotes. Those making up the Claw, especially, felt near to breaking from what hed put them through. If hed fought much longer he might have lost Symbiotes, but in that state of mind he hadnt cared. Hed have to ensure he let them rest for a time.

He remembered tearing and rending and clawing his way from opponent after opponent, an endless orgy of blood, and yet he also remembered the terrible burning dissatisfaction, the anger hed felt at the fact that they did not die, even though they should. And this anger had grown, magnified his state until hed been nothing but a blind force of nature rather than a person.

He remembered them all coming for him, in the Free For All. Some kind of unspoken alliance had been formed.

And he remembered winning. The vicious glee and satisfaction hed felt, how hed exulted in it. He remembered their shock and their terror, how they were driven before him. He heard the disbelief and the awe in a maddening applause.

He pressed his hands to his helmet, heard a mad giggling and realised the sound was bubbling from between his lips. Hed lost himself... completely and utterly.

His unease spiked. Hed used the Dark Spirit! What other trumps had he revealed?! The Quiet Knife!

He clutched frantically at his hip, where hed built the sheath for it, and to his horror found that it wasnt there. He hadnt only used it, hed lost it?! He

Ah, no. He heard the Mask, realised it had been speaking for a time, murmuring calmingly into his ear. You left it at the base. You didnt bring it.

A huge breath of relief puffed from his lips, formed a cloud of condensation over his visor. He watched, mind empty for the moment, as the fans cleared it quickly away. A new thought nudged him. The visor was supposed to be condensation proof, so long as one didnt get it too dirty. Had he? From the inside? His eyes moved around, and he saw bloodstains. A lot of blood, dark and dried. But he was uninjured. Not his blood. So how

He remembered cutting someones arms off, delighted that the blue light didnt claim them, that it wasnt considered lethal. Remembered raising the severed arms, his visor snapping open, blood on his face laughing like a child.

His teeth grit tight, bottling in the horrified moan that tried to escape as his imagination instantly summoned up a 19,200 x 10,800 pixel display, those great spiritual screens that hung over the Duel Arena, and he saw a madman drinking blood, deranged features splashed over that display in ultimate high-definition.

And hed taken such care to hide his face. Pitiful. But Cyberwarfare spoke up, told him not to worry. No one couldve made out his features through all the blood, anyway.

A good point, but even that didnt stop his spiral, unable to do anything but dig and dig at his fractured memories for more awful, wonderful moments.

What about the time between rounds? Hadnt he calmed, then?

In flashes he saw himself pacing in the waiting room like a beast, clawing lines in the walls, heavy breaths rasping from his suits speakers.

And he remembered the thrashing of the Mask, and that somehow it had stopped him from leaving through the door. In that moment, he couldnt have been more grateful towards it.

The orb had reached its zenith. He knew that in moments he would be transported to the waiting room, to receive his award. He would have to face the crowd, and Serrin, and now did everyone know he was completely insane? What was this going to do for his already poor reputation?

The Modules were doing some of their own spiralling, digging through their code, trying to understand what had happened. It was because they had become part spiritual, that was the best guess of Threat Analysis and Simulations. The new spiritual parts they were so pleased by were what made them vulnerable to the Dark.

Where were you? Cyberwarfare demanded of the Mask, beginning the blame game, but the Mask only shrugged.

I did everything I could. None of you wanted to listen. Perhaps if Serrin had been there, to strengthen me, I couldve done more.

Serrin or the Blade external answers to an internal problem, the thought made Nicolais lip curl.

Its the Dark Spirit, said Threat Analysis. Serrin was right about it!

The Dark Spirit is a part of this, spoke up Psychology. But not entirely. The truth is, we all wanted this, deep down we were waiting eagerly for it. How else could all thoughts of Control have been so swiftly pushed aside? There is something about that state we crave it, to become a perfect being.

Nicolai and the others stirred unhappily at this, sensing the truth in Psychologys words. He shook the others from the rising argument.

We need an answer to this. We need to think this through, together, and without the Dark. Converge with me!

They merged. This time just him, the Modules, and the Mask. This merge was not quite as perfect, damaged by the odd division and the without the enhancement of the Dark, but it served well enough. And, as their focus became tighter, so too did the merge.

Was this all because of the Dark Spirit? Or was Psychology right?

His mind turned dimmer, quieter. Unnecessary functions were put to sleep. A soft reboot that allowed them to go through it all; mind, body, soul.

And, through this, they began to identify the problem. The Dark had grown in strength, over time. Seeing it now, it seemed obvious. The Dark was getting stronger

And he wasnt. Within his Soul, a balance was gradually tipping. The meshing of Modules came up with a number for the Darks comparative strength: 77%.

At 50%, Control will be easy. At 60%, it will be harder. 70%, and uncontrolled descents will become increasingly likely. 80%, and it will be extremely hard to resist. 90%

There was no telling what would happen at 90%.

But through this, the answer began to appear.

He already intended to rise to Tier 2 this week, and Tier 2 was all about ncreasing the strength of ones Soul. The initial rise to Tier 2 would strengthen it significantly, and then one would work on strengthening it further in the push for Tier 3.

Could it be that simple? What if the Dark grew alongside him? Would

Light flashed, and Nicolai was surrounded by the sand-coloured walls of the waiting room. The mind-merge tumbled apart as he peered around. There was a reward set in one of those walls. He reached out only for a barrier to block him, demanding he pay the Duel Arena tax to claim his award. At that moment, he didnt even have the energy to be annoyed, simply pulling free some tags. They vanished when pressed into the barrier, which vanished along with them. He fumbled the reward free, gazed numbly down at it.

Permit: Establish Small Trade Link.

This permit allows the user to create a permanent Trade Link at their location. This Trade Link works as normal and can be used by anyone.

One would be wise to choose the location, and who they inform about the new Link, very carefully.

The Big Mouth slowly opened and he pressed it inside. Useful, he mumbled, but at that moment he seemed incapable of feeling joy, and the words tasted like ashes in his mouth.

Knock, knock. Someone was at the door. He stepped over, hesitated then opened it.

Serrin was revealed, and the Hornet came forward, seized him. Nicolai, he hissed. You He paused, gathering his words. Are you yourself?

Beyond him, Nicolai saw the endless crowd of the duel arena, crashing like a sea. Not a place he had any desire to be, not right now. He pulled Serrin into the room, closed the door, spun up his portal.

What did you see? he rippled, switching unthinkingly to the Hornet method of communication, pacing randomly around the Portal Room in his base.

Well, uh

Was it obvious? What did I do?

Serrin shook his head, unsure. The way you moved, it wasnt normal. It didnt look human. Like an animal, or one of your robots. And you summoned that thing, the Dark Spirit.

What did it do?

Leapt from body to body, Soul Sense to Soul Sense. Im not sure what it did to those it reached, but anyone it got into was counted as dead, removed from the Tournament, and it went for the next. It seemed like it was feeding on them and only certain Symbiotes were of any use against it, but when that happened you were always there to collect it and give it safe haven in your Soul, and it seemed to enhance you somehow.

Nicolai nodded slowly, unsure what to think. Anything else?

You were laughing a lot, said Serrin, and Nicolai winced.

He shook his head. His thoughts were strangely slow, sleepy. He felt sated, calm, fat. No. That was the Dark, not him.

I need he trailed off, not sure what it was he needed.

You need a distraction, answered Serrin, with far more confidence. The Hornet clutched at his shoulder. Do you hear me? A distraction!

Distraction, he echoed tonelessly.

Yeah. Now, youre probably worried that everyone will be talking about, uh, what they just saw, but you neednt worry. You see, actually, youre just a minor diversion. The Hornet patted him happily on the shoulder.

Nicolai stared at him, uncomprehending.

Have you heard, continued Serrin in a tone of rising excitement, of the Summoner?

Nicolai had not. He had no idea what Serrin was talking about.

Come with me, lets go! Shes fighting in the next Tournament. You dont want to be recognised, right? Don a disguise.

It took quite a bit of poking and prodding from Serrin, but ultimately, Nicolai did so. His thoughts were grey and colourless. He felt empty. No energy, no desire. Maybe Serrin was right. He needed a distraction.

They say shes a Hero, the Hornet was enthusing. Can you believe it?

A hero, he echoed numbly. What a senseless, meaningless word. He struggled to understand why Serrin was so excited by the labels some arrogant fool had adorned themselves with.

Yes. A Hero of Humanity.

Nicolai came to a halt, struck by the familiar wording, before following Serrin through the portal.

The pair of them wore simple disguises composed of grey robes that covered their skinsuits, plus simple white masks with a black spiral design that covered the front of their helmets. The robes were composed of a thick fabric that blocked penetration by sonar and other such methods, while the masks were made from a type of glass-like polymer, white on one side but see-through on the other.

Hed bought a number of such masks, all with different designs, to be used and discarded as necessary. With robes of different colours, it was a simple way to don an appearance that would be striking enough to ensure that all people would remember of them was the masks and the robes, rather than the more telling features hinted at beneath. The true difficulty was in disguising their Souls, but Nicolai was now skilled enough at that to manage it even in his current state of mind, and Serrin was as flawless as ever.

Exiting the waiting room they found the main hall surprisingly quiet, just a few people spread around. Come on! called Serrin. Tournament Two must have started already!

While following Serrin around the stands in search of a quiet area in which to sit, Nicolai was forced to come to a stop when a small doga corgi?went bounding by, tongue hanging out.

In the moment of its passing he saw it had a large scar bisecting one eye, which had been replaced with a silver bionic. He paused, watching its journey up through the stands. It was wearing a chunky robotic exo-suit with heavy clawed feet that clattered loud on the stone steps, plus two robotic arms on the sides, each ending in powerful hands. One of those hands grasped a box of popcorn, the other a large bottle of what looked like some kind of high-strength spirit. There were various protrusions on the sides of the exo-suit, which he recognised as containing weapons and countermeasures.

The corgi skidded to a halt, turned and dashed into an area of seating, then leapt into a seat between two people.

One was a large man, part gene-edited flesh and muscle, part synthetics and metal, bald-headed, scowling, big boxing arms crossed over his chest. He barely reacted to the armoured corgi sailing by, busy frowning down into the arena.

On the other side was a voluptuous, black-haired, robed woman with a tall hat who was smoking a stim-cig, somewhat unusual since she was obviously Shenran, possessing quite a strange Soul Sense that Threat Analysis claimed gave off some interesting ripples.

The bald man had noticed his gaze and was eyeing him, now, frowning harder than ever in a way that reminded him a little of Kleos.

Nicolai turned away, dismissing them.

It had been a while since hed seen an uplifted animal. They werent particularly common even back on Earth. It was somewhat interesting that one was here, though. Thinking back to the message hed seen long ago in the induction to this Great Game, he recalled that indeed it hadnt mentioned just humans, but also their biological subsidiaries. Presumably the dog had a Mark, too.

He saw Serrin peering worriedly back at him and resumed his walk, soon catching up, as the Hornet led him to a deserted area of seating. He barely noticed the journey, though Threat Analysis was keeping a careful eye out for any signs of danger.

He was still half-lost in the vague, formless dread that filled him when he thought of how hed lost himself, thought of what this meant for his future, thought of the endless struggle of remaining in control of himself.

The Hornet led him over to a console which teleported them to the stands, and Serrin found a relatively quiet deserted area for them to sit.

Nicolai stared emptily at the great screens that displayed the various combatants, the misty shape of the mountainous, forested arenabelow. Serrin was speaking, but he couldnt hear.

His mind was back to looping. Hed used the Dark Spirit, hed gone completely insane. this was not good, so on and so forth. Why am I like this? She took my Blade. He needed the fucking Blade.

He was knocked out of this when Serrin grabbed his shoulder, shaking him while jabbing a finger at one of the screens. Look, look! Shes doing the thing!

Displayed up there was a close-up of a young woman. She stood in a clearing in the forestno, a girl. She couldnt have been more than what, fifteen, sixteen? The same as Azure. The Mask was suddenly seeing her almost as Azure, which for some ridiculous reason made it immediately more kindly disposed to her. She was holding up her Marked hand, and it shone with a bright, golden light. He had no idea what that was about, nor why Serrin was so very excited. He was in fact wonderingas he shook Serrin offif the Hornet had identified the wrong person. The girl clearly had very little combat experience. She looked nervous, ill at ease. The kind of person who shouldnt be in a Tournament like this. She was obviously from Earth but he saw only trace signs of augmentation. Was she Tier 2? That was rather impressive, if so, but even armed with powerful Symbiotes she didnt have a chance. The kind of person he might not even bother to attack, because shed be no challenge at all. And yet, as he had these thoughts, Threat Analysis disagreed. It had resumed its data-mining with drones through the crowd, and it said that

The light swelled into a golden ball that darted out of her hand and now the POV was pulling back, wider, much wider, as the gold hit the ground beside her then sprung apart into a great shimmering network of golden lines.

A Killbot slammed into existence, and the sight of it chased all thought from Nicolais mind. It seemed to almost physically pull him, until he was leaning hungrily forward in his seat, staring down with the Modules crowded within his eyes and cameras.

They say she can summon beings from Permits, a! Serrin chattered excitedly. Over and over! Can you believe it?

Nicolai managed to tear his gaze away from the killbot, turning to stare at Serrin. Was that true? If so, how? And, just as importantly, why?

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