Free Markram Battles: Omens of Doom (Part II) by M.C. Muhlenkamp

his voice breaks through my resilience and my gaze moves as if by an invisible force. His blue eyes ripple through me like two profound oceans full of longing, and the blazing heat from his touch intensifies as he dives deeper, pouring every word he can’t say into this simple touch.
     
    I can feel myself slipping. “Stop it.”
     
    The gate begins to open and he freezes, immediately withdrawing from my mind. His expression hardens back to the emotionless leader, but something soft and tender lingers for a moment. “We aren’t done yet.” Then, it is gone.
     
    I let out a scoff. “Of course we are.”
     
    He frowns, visibly irritated, but turns around to address the rest of the unit. “Whatever awaits us outside this gate, I expect you to fight for your life. Abide by the rules as much as you can. But if you find yourself in mortal peril, or if any of your teammates requires your assistance, you have my permission to engage. No, you have my order to do so. I will take full responsibility for your performance. Don’t hesitate. Don’t flinch away. Honor cannot be taken from you, unless you give it away willingly.”
     
    Adrenaline begins pumping through my body. Something about the certainty of his words makes me realize he always meant to tell us this. The charade back at the training facility, in front of the army officials, was just that, a show. He bites down, fighting a smile. “Courage in battle and honor in life.”
     
    We rush into the giant stadium, only to be immediately scattered by an ambush. The rival unit wastes no time, their razor-sharp swords slicing through the air, killing nearly half of us within the first five minutes of the battle. I hear Seven yelling commands, but his voice gets lost amid the bloody chaos that surrounds me. I begin to move away from the main group, only concerned with my own survival.
     
    A rival player approaches me. I see the matching symbol on her arm and move toward her without hesitation. Raising my sword high above my head, I thrust it down, meeting her blade with a loud clash. The momentary vibration traveling through our limbs distracts me, guiding my eyes to her face. Blood drains from my body, turning me to stone.
     
    No.
     
    She smiles at me. “Hey, sis.” My lips are shut tight. My legs have turned to ice. My heart has stopped beating. She can’t be here. She is an illusion. An illusion created by Eleven to torture me. I stumble back, directing my eyes to the fights around me, until I find the one person I am looking for. His purple eyes meet mine in spite of his confrontation with Seven and he grins, pleased. My stomach knots as every image around me begins to spin and my legs give out from under me, slamming my body to the ground. I clutch handfuls of sand in a feeble attempt to crawl away from the nightmare standing in front of me. Something clicks under my palm and the ground begins to tremble. The fear in my sister’s eyes makes me turn around toward the dark, repugnant-smelling tunnel opening under the arena.
     
    Four red eyes peek out of the darkness and an ape-looking creature with six long limbs exits the tunnel. My heart skips a beat just as the beast fixes its attention on me. It lunges forward, grasping my armor and pinning me down. It digs its nails into my leg, making me cry out in pain and begins dragging me back into the tunnel. I lose the grip on my sword and hear my sister scream, leaping forward and raising her blade against the animal. The sharp sword pierces through one of its limbs and the creature releases me.
     
    I roll away and watch my sister lean over me. She places something inside my hand and gives me a big, reassuring smile. “I love you.”
     
    I open my mouth to speak, but the hairy creature bites into my sister’s torso and pulls her away, shaking her body like a ragged doll. Her horrific cries of pain scorch their way through me, tearing my insides apart and releasing all of the anger I had been bottling up. The