The traffic across Seacrest Bridge slowed to a sputter. The bridge was built well before the city's population explosion, so even after the completion of the Link underneath the bay, the bridge had a hard time dealing with traffic. Neither did it help that thousands of tourists had descended upon the city for the finale of the Vytal Tournament. Opposite the setting sun the vibrance of Sentinel Stadium flashed across the few clouds hanging in the cobalt sky.
The bridge of a massive container ship glided beneath the street and into the bay, with just a few feet to spare.
"Is everyone in position?" a grumbling man's voice asked his Holoband. His dark eyes and half-face mask were painted red by the brake lights in front of his truck.
"All clear. Give 'em hell."
A screeching of tires.
The truck pulled out from the right lane, barreling across the left to shatter the windows and crush the trunk of the unfortunate sedan in its path. The drivers' side door of the truck swung open and its driver abandoned the vehicle, which erupted into a ball of flame and flying steel as it rammed into the median. Cars laid on their horns and plowed into one another to avoid the inferno, creating a barrier of twisted metal, broken glass, and flame.
At the North end of Seacrest Bridge, a twin plume of smoke billowed into the evening sky.
From the arena's entrance, Lazula took in the ambience of Sentinel Stadium for one final time. A sea of heads and flashing lights filled each of the stadium's three tiers, each one marked with a ring of neon lights that jolted to the beat of the invigorating music. Each of the screens in the arena showed her face next to Sterling's, marked only with the word "FINAL." The steel cradle that made up the stadium's structure curved back in above the stands, four prongs meeting in a white bow of steel almost three hundred feet above the arena.
Remnant's shattered moon hung overhead, nearly drowned out by the spotlights that bathed Lazula as she stepped into the crowd's chants. She faced forward. One more fight, and she'd be crowned winner. Of course she'd have to sit through the post-match interviews, but afterward she'd be treated to a victory dinner, spend time with Lilly if time allowed, and end the night with a relaxing bath. At home, not in those dreaded dormitory showers.
Sterling strode forward, blades and belts glinting in the spotlights. Lazula got her first close look at him since the opening ceremony, before she thought much of her challenger. His hair was styled similarly to Midas's. Streaks of silver emerged in his hairline, and flowed to a point in the back of his head. His black suit was tight where it wasn't armored, made of kevlar or a similar tough-looking substance. Then, the tracks his blades slid upon. From his back, down his arms and legs, even across his chest and stomach in in places. On elbows and wrists were reserves of cable, which must've been how he had fired off his blade at Midas like a ballistic spear.
The President of the Academy League, a dignified-looking blond man in a fitted blue suit and slacks, broke in between the challengers' staredown. "Welcome to the championship match of the 60th Vytal Tournament!" He introduced. He allowed time for the audience to settle down so his next words could be heard. "This match will be between Lazula Skye of Sentinel, and Sterling Platton of Atlas!" He nodded, and turned first to Lazula, then Sterling. "Please, shake your opponent's hand.
Their handshake was uncomfortably firm and devoid of all cordiality, as if both competed to clench their competitor's hand harder. Lazula's hazel eyes met Sterling's grey, and she nodded once.
"Now, take your spots," the President allowed. "Safety parameters are set at the Academy League Standard of 15%. The first to drop their opponent's aura below the safety parameter will be declared champion of the Vytal Tournament!"
The crowd chanted rhythmically. The countdown had begun.
Impetus glinted under the spotlight as it scraped from its sheath. It was a heavy blade, to be sure. But every time she wielded it, that weight would melt away in her hand.
She took two breaths, and the championship match began.
Sterling sprinted in with a vicious fury in his eye, but Lazula merely held her ground, raising Aegis to prepare for his assault. He struck twice, gave the slightest pause as he turned, and lashed out once again with both the blades in his hands and the ones wired to his arms.
Lazula stepped back a bit with each of Sterling's strikes as she watched his movements. This way, she figured, she'd get a sense for his style and wear him out a bit before offering an attack of her own- one single blow to end the match as decisively as possible, preferably.
Sterling wrenched her shield to one side and tumbled to the other, forcing Lazula to use her blade. She flicked away the first blade launched at her and lashed out at his follow-up, channeling just enough of her semblance to make a point. He stumbled back, but managed to sweep a cable around her ankle. She lost her balance, and fell to her back.
Sterling lunged forward, but his blade rotated back to lock onto his forearm. He instead grabbed Lazula's ankle with a look of sick satisfaction. A sudden wave of nausea washed over her but subsided as quickly as it came, all in tandem with a silver wave that worked its way over her body.
Lazula punched the ground with her shield, twisting with all her might and wiping the grin off Sterling's face with an astute kick to the chin as she whipped back up to her feet.
He took a few seconds to recover, during which Lazula charged in with two slashes one after the other, each taking about an eighth of Sterling's aura with it. He replied with a sweeping slash at her legs, causing her to step back and lower her shield.
The twin cables binding blades to his right wrist retracted, and he held a third in his hand. As he sprinted toward her with an animated thrill glinting in his eye, she smirked. The hit was going to be big. A perfect strike to send right back with her semblance. Lazula raised Aegis into the heavy blow, lowering herself as she turned on the balls of her feet and swung with Impetus across and slightly upward, a practiced movement that hadn't yet failed her. Usually, she would feel a sudden rush of energy born inside herself. It would swirl within her as she turned, and rush from core, to chest, to arm with the slash of her sword.
She felt nothing.
Halfway through her swing, Impetus was countered by a wall of steel. Before Lazula could realize what had happened, a pair of blades fired out from Sterling's other arm, spearing her core. As she lay on her back, Sterling blotted out the lights of the stadium, springing onto her with another jab to her shoulder.
"No way!" Caspian cried, nearly springing from his chair in the glass suite. "He blocked her?!"
"That's not right..." Moka noted. "What's going on with her? Why isn't she using her semblance?"
Lazula ripped his blade aside with Impetus, grinding her teeth against the pain as it tore across herself, just under her gorget. Aura of calm precedence all but cast aside, Lazula's focused scowl had hardened into a savage glower. She leapt up to her feet with two ferocious swings to deter him, and prepared her shield as Sterling once again pounced at her with a heavy-handed blow.
Her forceful jab of retaliation was cast aside, and a piercing agony wracked her ribs. She just barely stayed on her feet, holding her side as she gasped for breath.
Sterling cocked his head back with a self-satisfied smile. "What's the matter, can't use your semblance?" he taunted.
"You... what did you do to me?!"
He shrugged, that disgusting smile still on his face as he stepped toward her. "I'll let you in on a little secret; I haven't been entirely honest. I do have a semblance, and it lets me block others."
"What?!"
"It'll come back," Sterling assured, his feigned care dripping with condescension. "In a few hours. Well after you've already lost."
They clashed again. Sterling's strikes came even faster, to which Lazula could only counter with Aegis. Each time she chanced a blow with Impetus, a skewer of steel met her at an odd angle, and she would grow more desperate.
"Lazula Skye's been untouchable, both in previous tournaments and the one-on-one gauntlet!" Mr. Brown announced. "But now, could it be Sterling with the advantage?"
"This is the first time we've seen Lazula with an aura level lower than her opponent's!" Mrs. Brown added. "Maybe not even in this tournament! Maybe ever!"
"No. I won't lose. I can't lose."
Lazula's overhead strike met a cross of steel, and her blow was forced back. She parried his next strike with the flat edge of her blade, but as it circled around in preparation for another strike she was met with another unexpected elbow blade, and a slash she just barely blocked in time.
"I can't lose. I DON'T LOSE."
It couldn't be happening this way. Even without a semblance, her skill should have been enough to carry her past anyone. But Sterling was faster, and with each misstep, which only came more often as she grew more desperate, he'd strike.
Usually, her aura was a safety net. It was far too strong for one person, and no one could possibly hit her enough to deplete it all. But at that moment, her aura was a curse. She felt the sting of every slash and the agony of every stab- debilitating pain that would fell any other- over and over as the soul-bound shield chipped away.
Lazula braced herself against Sterling's spinning strike, holding both blades off with Impetus before she cast them aside and chanced a jab through him. The attack scraped across the blades on his back as he ducked under, and answered with a jab of his own. Lazula hopped back and blocked his next swing, but her three strikes were danced around with infuriating ease. He grappled her next swing with both blades, wrenching it aside and slamming two more into her the opposite direction.
As Lazula stumbled back in a dazed attempt to gain some distance, Sterling held a palm out to her. With a metallic twang, a blade fired off from his wrist. Lazula swatted it aside with her shield, and sprung forward with a vicious swing. Sterling ducked around it once again, firing another blade off from his other wrist. It missed, but he caught the original in the same hand.
Lazula felt the cord around her ankles, and Sterling wrenched his arm back to trip her up. He leapt into the air, planting one foot on her shield and kicking it aside with the other as he sprung off her.
Her eyes widened to a flash of steel. Sterling let fly with a hail of blades, firing off wrists, palms, legs, and chest until no more sat upon his back. Try as she might to correct her shield and raise her sword as she fell, Lazula felt each piercing blow upon her legs and stomach. One final blade met her back.
She fell onto her knees, then her back.
A silver crescent of spotlight gleamed on the contour of Lazula's chestplate, ebbing and flowing with her frantic gasps for breath. Every inch of her body screamed out in agony, and as much as she wanted to get up, as little as she wanted to admit defeat, it was all she could do to roll onto her side, and curl up.
What hurt most was the humiliation. 'The Indomitable Girl,' the invincible champion who would knock down anything and anyone in her way, had been snuffed out. Extinguished in dramatic fashion on the biggest stage, all in front of Remnant's eyes. She felt for the first time shaky, uncertain. It had to be some mistake. Her defeat was a fluke. Sterling never disclosed his semblance, wasn't that cheating somehow?
The one thing she couldn't do now was cry.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! STERLING PLATTON HAS WON THE VYTAL TOURNAMENT CHAMPIONSHIP!" the announcer thundered. "Lazula Skye has been defeated for the first time EVER!" The audience, much like her, sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. Then, a wave of cheer unlike she had ever heard burst forth.
"Nah, this doesn't even feel real!" Rowan exclaimed.
"She lost..." Caspian reflected. Much like him, it seemed no one could quite believe it.
Lilly's eyes faltered from the stage to the floor. "Oh, my... I can't imagine she's going to take this well."
Though most surrounded Sterling, cameras and microphones closed in on Lazula's curled form like vultures. She kept her head down, bracing herself upon Impetus as she wobbled back to her feet, and trudged off the side of the stage.
"Lazula! Lazula!" one reporter hounded. Upon seeing her prey press on, she pushed in a bit closer. "How are you feeling after your first ever defeat? What do you think went wrong out there?"
"Fuck off."
"Oh!" the reporter exclaimed, tearing the microphone away. "We- not in the mood for interviews, it seems!" there was an awkward pause, during which the reporter glanced to Lazula with a forced grin, and back to the camera. "Back to you!"
The stairs up to Lazula's ledge on the holographic podium weren't long enough. The fanfare had hardly settled in the half hour since her fight, and the crowd hadn't gone anywhere. There were just as many people, no doubt chattering on about how the Indomitable Girl wasn't so indomitable after all.
Midas grinned and waved from his third-place spot on the podium, apparently satisfied with his finish. When the strip in front of the stairs lit green as her cue, Lazula dragged her feet up to the ledge. Never had she looked up to anyone on the podium, and it didn't feel right to her. She didn't bother masking her disappointment, but she couldn't bear to look into the camera that showed her face to the world.
She could have sworn she heard laughter from somewhere in the audience as the silver metal was lowered around her neck.
"...And your champion, of the 60th Vytal Tournament, Sterling Platton!" the Academy League President cheered.
The audience followed his lead. Lazula's only solace was knowing she was no longer the focus of the horde of drones circling overhead. She could feel Sterling's smug gaze on her for a few seconds, before it returned to the cameras.
The hard-light dust barriers between the arena and the audience, and those above the stadium flashed red, and a confused hush fell over the crowd.
Lazula finally looked up. The League President's eyes darted between the three finalists in a frenzy, then up at the massive screen to the stadium's East side. On it, video of a container ship in the bay, the smoking silhouette of Seacrest Bridge as its backdrop.
"We interrupt the broadcast of the 60th Vytal Tournament to bring you breaking news out of Port Cyrreine," the measured voice of a newscaster announced. "A container ship reported to be carrying supplies for Frontline Biomedical has been hijacked, and diverted into Cyrreine Bay. The anarchist group 'Red Claw,' believed to be connected to the recent resurgence in Grimm attacks, have overtaken Seacrest Bridge, and have mounted what are believed to be anti-aircraft guns at three locations. All residents are urged to stay inside, and stay clear of the immediate area."
An awful cacophony of terror replaced the cheers, nearly as loud as before. Those in the stands worked themselves into a frenzy, mashing together and toppling over each other with nowhere to run. An alarm began to blare, one Lazula had heard only once before during the attack on the entrance exam.
Headmaster Skye's brow had stitched to his eyes, and he paced back and forth in the suite overlooking the hysteric masses. He held Holoband to his chin, placing call after call. At the corner of the suite, Douglas Hudson watched the chaos pensively, the inch-thick glass apparently enough distance from it all.
"Set threat level to five. If a single Creature of Grimm is seen, move it to eight immediately," the Headmaster demanded. His sternness could easily have been mistaken for anger. "Do not let anyone into or out of Sentinel Stadium, apart from those with direct permission from me. Understand?"
He flicked the call aside, taking another. "This is the order you told me about, right? The shipment of 3rd gen BCS's?"
His brow furrowed deeper as he heard the reply.
"I'm going to send my huntsmen to help evacuate the viewing parties to places deeper in campus. There has to be five-thousand people out there, so I'll need help from some of your Organds."
"I'm deactivating the auto-locks in all classroom buildings over half a mile from the water," Headmistress Skye added, fingers hurrying across a holographic screen.
The Headmaster nodded in thanks, and returned to his call. "I'll send him and Team MDLN onto the ship to apprehend their leader, and have a couple more teams retake the bridge. We should have enough manpower to manage that."
"Hey," Douglas called.
"What is it?"
Douglas indicated the roof of the stadium with a thumb. It looked as if night had closed in entirely, but the dimming sky had been blocked out by a swarm of black wings, their owners screaming by and ripping at the hard-light barrier with talons and beaks.
"Might wanna go ahead and crank up that threat level."