An idea occurs to me, and I pounce on it. “I have an opinion,” I declare, and both males turn to me with a questioning brow.
I don’t say anything more, and Sondar strides over, offering me his arm so I can access the keypad and screen on his device. Selecting the search window, I type in my selection. Excitement trills through me when I find exactly what I’m looking for. My smile is wide and satisfied as I load the environment into the system, and Sondar steps back. He looks down at what I chose and chuckles, shaking his head.
“Good one, Frills,” Sondar accedes, and my smile instantly dies.
“Ever. My name is Ever. Why is that so hard for all of you?” I grump, already knowing it’s a lost cause.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you call me Spare again while I think about it,” Aeson retorts, looking just as put out as I feel.
A snort of a laugh escapes me.
Touché.
“All right. I just need to administer the eye drops, and you two can get on with your…uh…whatever the fuck this is,” Sondar teases, and laughter erupts from Aeson’s Wing over in the spectator seats at the end of the room.
“What are those for?” I ask as Sondar holds a dropper over one of Aeson’s eyes and then the other.
“These connect you with the simulator’s virtual environment. When the program is over, the tech deactivates and your body flushes it out in a day or so.”
Ignoring the tinge of disquiet that hums through me, I nod and tip my head back so he can drop the tech in my eyes. I’ve come this far, it’s all or nothing at this point.
The drops are cold and somewhat shocking. I blink the slight sting away, my vision hazy but quickly clearing. Not sure what to expect, I look around, but I only see the same diaphanous walls of the simulator and the training room beyond. Then I blink again and I’m standing in the torrid sun, surrounded by the endless black sand dunes of The Scorch.
Home sweet home.
I close my eyes and tilt my head back, feeling the full wrath of a sun I know isn’t really there. I pull in deep lungfuls of clean, arid air and detect the subtlest notes of petrichor in the blistering breeze. It must have rained not too long ago.
The sensory feedback of this simulation is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Of course, I knew tech like this existed in theory, but experiencing it is a whole other matter. Part of me is tempted to start walking, to try to get home. I know it’s impossible, that I’m not really in the deadlands, but it feels so real, smells and looks real, and my heart aches for it all the same.
A deep and profound loneliness all at once consumes me, and I wonder if this will be the closest I’ll ever get to The Scorch again. Willhomeonly be within reach through tech-altered senses—never in truth?
An electric buzzing suddenly skitters across my skin, and my eyes snap open to find a thin, barely there, translucent coating covering my entire body. This must be the bio shield Ventis mentioned earlier.
I look over to see Aeson has the same subtle glimmer of tech surrounding him, and he’s shifting his weight from foot to foot in obvious discomfort.
Looks like the sand is too hot for the scion’s delicate feet.
Good.
“Take your positions,” Sondar shouts, pointing to two white circles in the sand about thirty feet apart.
My pulse instantly picks up with excitement, and nerves prod at the sleeping butterflies in my stomach, waking them up until my insides feel like a quivering, flapping mess.
I can do this.
I can beat him.
Easily, I stride over to my mark and then turn and watch Aeson as he struggles not to sink into the sand with every step he takes. I wave away the satisfaction that blooms in my chest with his efforts. There’s no point getting ahead of myself. I have no doubt a little heat and sand aren’t going to keep him down for nearly as long as I’d like.
“The chime will indicate you can begin. Remember, no biting, no hair pulling, no eye gouging, or you’ll be disqualified. Otherwise, the first to submit loses,” Sondar declares, but he’s nothing more than a disembodied voice floating amidst a sea of black sand.
“You can tap out anytime,” Aeson calls to me as he finally makes it to his mark.
“Eat sand,” I croon back with a wide, dimple-flashing smile.
Adrenaline floods me, and I slow my breathing in an effort to calm the steady thundering of my pulse. A bead of sweat slips down my temple, and more starts to pool in the hollows of my collarbone. I picture Craith or Iker across from me instead of the dragon scion. Imagine the way they’d taunt and circle me in the training pit back home.
A sharp note peals through the hot undulating air, and I tense. My focus narrows on the only thing that now matters. Destroying Aeson Noctis.
