Chapter 427: The very last time

Phuong and his team came out of the final six man match looking five years older. They all collapsed around a table, a few putting their hands to Alex or Phuong in silence before they started to grin a little.

"Christ Jesus that was close," Seamus said. "Bein’ honest, I don't even fecking know what happened."

Mason hardly knew either, and he'd been watching. It was the best eastern team left, which included his shadow rogue friend, some caster, and a host of hybrid types. They'd been forced to fight in a far more confined space than usual, with long halls connecting larger rooms defended by traps. Or constructs. Or huge, self-repairing doors.

The teams had first each held a room as a kind of base, then had to decide on ways to attack the other without getting slaughtered. There'd been secret doors and tunnels, teleporters, small constructs they could 'recruit', and half a dozen other complications.

Both teams had split up and started trying to use every tool at their disposal, and pretty soon Mason lost track of what the hell was going on. But he'd definitely seen his rogue friend catch and kill Jason in one of the darker halls.

After that, things got pretty wild.

"It was Retribution," Alex said, after the silence gave way to frenzied conversation. "I channel. Get back mana. Use before die."

Phuong had been the literal last man standing, also near death as he fought in the last battle that claimed everyone else. The final players on both sides had died in a vicious brawl in the Nassau team's 'base', including Alex and the last two players on the eastern team. But apparently Alex had gone out with a bang.

"You can do that?" Garet asked. Alex just shrugged.

Then the men were all laughing and slapping the Belarusian's back, teleporting drinks and going over their own moments of glory in intricate detail.

Mason went and congratulated them, trying to give each a moment of praise for something he'd seen inside. As usual, it was impossible to tell if Alex was pleased or not. Rather than compliment him on any particular action, Mason decided just to say what he meant.

"Thank you. For helping them win. I know you...don't enjoy any of this. But you're a vital part of Nassau. I hope you know that."

Alex shrugged as if it wasn't important. He seemed as if he had no intention of saying anything else, but as Mason went to go talk to another man he cleared his throat.

"I enjoy," he said. "Living in Nassau. The people are good. Not a problem. But maybe…we need music, ah? Maybe we make a room for music."

Mason just nodded and gave a tight-lipped smile, never quite sure how to talk to the man. It would help if he spoke in his native tongue, certainly, but for whatever reason he always preferred his limited English.

After joining the winning team for a drink, Haley came to remind him it was time, and he hurried back to watch Carl and Blake's re-match without the others. Again he hadn't intervened or tried to set any rules, letting them decide how to handle it. Though he'd told Becky to surrender if her shield went down. Not that she particularly listened.

This time there was no waiting around. The players rushed almost right out of the gate, and Mason tried to relax as he watched, feeling Haley's hands gripped tensely on his arm.

Tommaso went down pretty fast and Mason found he didn't even enjoy that. Becky fought Annie and the constructs. And it looked like Blake had decided to play 'fair', and Carl might actually get his chance to end things in a hurry...

But his attempt failed. Then he was screaming and Blake was clearly using his mind powers.

Mason winced, wondering why the hell he felt he needed to do that when he could have just beat them pretty much the same way. It went on and on, then Carl warped away and vanished. Little hairs rose on Mason’s neck, and he knew what was coming before it happened.

Haley's fingers dug into his arm as Carl stabbed Becky through the chest. Then he broke the control and started freaking out, but only for a second before Blake finished him.

Just like that, it was over. Mason sat staring at the screen. Little fireworks were going off on a thousand monitors as the system blared the 3v3 winning team.

His brain warred with itself as he blocked out the fake applause. One piece argued that Blake's mind powers were a major part of his class. That it was perfectly reasonable he used them in combat, that powers weren't 'good' or 'bad' they were just weapons, and you used the weapons you had. The same part told him he hadn't chosen any of this, that he was forced to fight just like everyone else.

A very different part didn't give a shit. It thrashed like an enraged animal even as Mason saw Becky forming and sitting at a table, perfectly safe and alive, if obviously shaken and disappointed. Carl and Tommaso also shimmered into view, both taking their own seats without a word.

The older man was pale, eyes far away and flicking to Becky and away again with obvious shame.

What Blake had done to him was...cruel. Petty. Almost certainly unnecessary. He'd avoided the ambush and caught him clearly enough. He could have just killed him and dealt with Becky himself. There was no earthly reason for that mind control. So why did he do it? And not just to some stranger. He'd done it to Carl, a friend, and to Becky.

Mason's love for his brother and his hatred of bullies fought like caged animals.

"I'll check on Becky," Haley said, probably sensing Mason's mood. He nodded and let her go, glad when he saw her fight through Becky's shrugs until the women were hugging and sitting together without a word.

The Mason of ‘old earth’ would have left that balcony, would have run away. Instead he stood and pulled up a chair next to Carl and waited. The older man gave him a half-lipped smile, sipping his drink for awhile before he let out a breath.

"I thought she'd..." he shook his head. "It felt like a dream, you know? Like Becky turned on me, like I had no choice. Except it wasn't even really me. I couldn't stop it. All I had was a feeling. And it was all wrong."

Mason felt the man's hurt and shame and the angry piece of his brain was starting to win.

"It's not your fault," he said. "It's just how Blake's powers work. There was nothing you could do."

"Yeah." Carl took another sip of his drink. "I'll be alright. But I'll be looking for mind defences. I can tell you that. Maybe the civilians can make us something."

Mason nodded and forced himself to smile.

"That's a good idea. We'll talk to them."

And Blake can probably help, he didn't add. Out in the real world, he’s on our team.

"You fight him next?" Carl looked up for the first time, and Mason nodded. "He just going to surrender?"

"That's what we agreed.”

Carl's head bobbed and he looked at his drink, thumb swiping across the glass.

"If he doesn't." He glanced at Rebecca's back, the two still not having spoken. "Feel free to hit him once for me, yeah?" Here he snorted like it was a joke. But Mason could see the man's emotion.

He wanted to say 'he didn't mean to hurt you, it's just the game'. The piece of his brain that defended Blake reflexively had all kinds of arguments loaded and ready. But none reached his tongue. He'd watched a powerful thing rip apart weaker things with something like glee, reveling in his own power even at the expense of friends.

A sick feeling welled in Mason's gut and sent acid up his throat, forcing him to swallow it down. He had to talk to Blake. To scream at him and tell him what he'd done wrong. It was probably ignorance. Or maybe he'd made some foolish plan to make Mason angry as their show to the easterners, just choosing the wrong way and going too far.

Mason could forgive that. It was classic Blake. An ill-conceived plan without considering all the details, thinking other people were as resilient or ruthless as him, that they would see the results or the goal and think 'well that makes everything OK'.

He stood and went for the stairs, then stopped as Blake floated up just outside the balcony.

"No invitation required," he said, a big shit eating grin on his face. The son of a bitch even winked. "Just wanted to pass along my compliments to your people. No shame in coming in second."

Mason found himself at a loss. Was this part of his stupid 'let's pretend to fight?' too? It had to be. He needed to get Blake out of there, get him alone, scream at him privately until he understood and came back to apologize. He was about to walk forward and gesture for Blake to follow when he heard Carl stand up behind him.

"No offence, kid, but go fuck yourself."

Mason knew his brother well enough to see the displeasure in his eyes. He saw the mask hiding how he really felt, which was clearly bad. So Mason was right, it was part of the stupid act. This came as a bit of a relief, but not much. He'd gone way too far and really hurt people they cared about, even if the scars weren't obvious.

"This isn't the place, Blake, and it's definitely not the time. Let's go for a walk before..."

"No need for that," Blake said, looking away from Carl as if bored. "I'll leave the House of Mason alone. I just wanted to tell you our deal's off. It'll be a proper match, our little final. Do your worst. Or best. And I'll do mine. Let's see if those arcane resistances of yours have kept up."

Mason blinked, still caught off guard. What the hell was he playing at now? Did he think they needed to sell the fiction of a conflict with actual physical violence? He wanted to grab the son of a bitch and shake some sense into him. To come here and wipe his people's nose in that awful match? To pick a fight with Mason and actually make them hurt each other? Even 'pretend'?

"What do you say, idiot? Should we find out who's really the best?" Blake said.

Everything but his eyes was still a mask, his words obviously designed to tell Mason it was all for show. That he didn't really mean it.

But he'd fucked up here and Mason didn't want to play his stupid game. He'd never really cared much about their dumb ruse, and the lengths Blake was apparently prepared to go was fucking crazy. Even for him.

Mason glanced back at a practically trembling Carl, seeing Becky's big, brown eyes looking at him with a hurt he knew he still needed to figure out and help comfort. He clenched his teeth and met his brother's eyes.

"OK, Blake," he said, making sure not to say the words his brother wanted to hear. "Yet again you're a selfish, ruthless asshole, and now I'm angry. So good work, I guess you win. When this thing puts us in that arena, I'm going to show you how it feels to be everyone but you. And maybe you'll fucking learn. Privacy mode."

The balcony beeped and shimmered as a shield rose up to cover the sides. Blake faded from view looking mostly confused, and possibly impressed. Like he was pleased Mason had managed to join his ridiculous game. The stupid bastard.

"You really going to hurt him?" Carl said. Mason turned, looking into the watery eyes of the man who'd been loyal since the day they met. He nodded slowly and put a hand on his officer's shoulder.

"That’s the very last time Blake uses his mind powers on anyone in Nassau," he said, knowing as the words left his mouth, he truly meant it. Except probably me in that arena, he realized. But the thought didn’t scare him much.

Carl nodded, and pat Mason's hand before walking back towards Becky, the two smiling a little as they came together for a hug.

"You know, he killed me too," Tommaso said miserably from a nearby table. "That fucking cat bit my throat out. And I hate cats."

Mason gave him a glare, then walked back to his table, trying to figure out exactly what the hell he was going to do. To protect his people. To make Blake truly understand it wasn't just them against the world anymore. That other people mattered, and not just as pawns in whatever stupid game he was playing.

He wasn't clear. But he was getting an idea. And he was pretty sure it involved pain.