“Students of Fistborn Academy, welcome to the eighth day of the Pressure Exams!” the announcer’s voice echoed. The students clapped and cheered in the stadium seats. “Nine of our fighters have tested thousands of applicants! Now, we welcome our 150th-ranked fighter in the United States, at Level 378, and our only Ilamikoan… Lílitha… PIRANHA… HOUDGE!” he exclaimed. The audience cheered again as Lílitha walked out to the arena, dressed in the standard combat armor suit, the orange color darkening her periwinkle-blue skin. Her long, dark blue hair flowed out from beneath her helmet.
“I hope there aren’t any more annoying blokes who think they can be Favorites on the first day,” Catherine remarked. “They think that just ‘cause they start out at Level 20, they can beat a Legend.”
“Without further ado, let’s welcome the first challenger of the day to the Arena!”
Harrison could see Lílitha shifting on her feet, stretching her limbs to their longest. The capsule glass zoomed in to show her battle-hungry smile. Her long ears twitched with excitement.
“She’s going to bite this one,” Reilly said.
“A bit early for that,” said the third-best student— one of the new Student Coaches, like Harrison.
Delaine ‘Minx’ Evistroma
Student Coach
Level 396
She was a notoriously attractive Martian woman with wavy, light blond hair and huge, sparkly, black eyes.
“Let’s welcome to the Arena… a Level 4 Paeseoan from Wisconsin, scoring the required 60 on his practical test, but still showing massive potential… Anders Nilsson!”
Most of the crowd respectfully clapped as the man walked out to the arena, accompanied by boos from the more audacious bunch. He seemed confident at first, but slowed when the announcer yelled out his grade to everyone. His head ducked and he took smaller steps.
Li Mei laughed. “I hated when they told my grade to everyone. It was the most embarrassing thing I went through.”
The Paeseoan applicant exchanged formalities with Lílitha before heading over to the indicators across from her. There were no weapons or fancy tech around; just them and the barren arena.
“Prepare yourselves! Ready in 10, 9, 8…”
The crowd counted down along with the announcer, stomping their feet rhythmically, as was tradition to keep the excitement high. Harrison narrowed his eyes at the Paeseoan, who visibly gulped as Lílitha flashed her sharp teeth at him.
“3… 2… 1… FIGHT!”
Instantly, Lílitha bolted forward, her speed catching her opponent off guard. In no time at all, she’d stretched one of her legs to wrap around his neck, locking him in a deadly wrestling hold, and bit down on his shoulder. The armor kept her teeth from breaking his skin, but the pain still registered, causing him to yell.
“Seriously?! She just couldn’t wait, could she?” Catherine shook her head.
The Paeseoan’s legs gave out so he could slam her onto the floor. It worked, allowing him to twist out of her grip. Rage clouded his eyes as he got back into position, wincing and clutching his shoulder.
“His pain tolerance doesn’t look that high,” Disaris observed.
He charged this time, punching Lílitha in the face just as she rose. She spun, letting the momentum carry her, and stretched her foot out to kick him in the chin. She followed it up with punch in the gut and a knifehand in his throat.
His hands raised to his neck as he choked. Lílitha gave him no time to recover, throwing her whole body forward in a tackle. She somehow managed to ride his back, pulling his arms behind him and arching his back.
After a few seconds of holding him, he finally yelled out, “SURRENDER!” The crowd burst out laughing; not only was he desperate, but the correct word was ‘Concede’.
“GAME OVER!” the announcer responded. Lílitha let her opponent go at the prompt, standing and raising her arms in victory. She smiled at the cheering Fistborn students, her teeth glinting in the sun.
“What a Makakian,” Disaris laughed.
“She should seriously take it easy with the biting. No wonder people think Ilamikoans eat other mammalians,” the eighth-ranking student remarked.
St?sten ‘Grill’ Durchdenwald
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Student Coach
Level 406
He was a coffee-skinned Mercearthian with huge, beefy arms. His skin had a sandy texture, a mix of a Mercurian’s rocky skin and a human’s smoothness.
“Our next candidate is a Mercumartian from Alaska, with a whopping 85 tacks on his practical test! Welcome to the Arena… Emos Casuuumi!”
The fights went on, most ending the same; with Lílitha either pinning them down, punching them senseless, or trying to bite their limbs off. There were a few who gave her a run for her digits, but none who beat her so far for the day. The board must have given her more freedom than the others, exhausted from the sheer number of applicants.
They weren’t required to win against her; they just needed to show their prowess in a real fight. The judges needed to see how they performed against an experienced player with thousands of people watching them and cheering for the opposing side.
“I think too many of them are underestimating her,” the fifth-best student said as a Mearthian girl left the Arena in tears, like many before her.
Kalis ‘Glaiver’ Siip
Student Coach
Level 407
Kalis was a lanky, tall Mearthian with light gray skin and electric blue eyes. “It doesn’t even look like they did their homework. If they saw one of her fights, they would know to avoid the teeth.”
“Most of these are a bunch of wannabes. They’re not going to actually work for this exam,” said Delaine.
“That last Earthian gave her a good run, though,” the sixth-ranking coach commented.
Melsen ‘Spider-Man’ Steffensen
Student Coach
Level 401
Melsen had brownish-red skin, but looked otherwise human, only having a quarter of Paeseoan blood. He was another one that was annoyed by assumptions of him being fully Earthian, and he’d try to connect more with Paeseoan audiences to dissolve this identification.
About a thousand fighters battled Lílitha before the first break. By then, she was exhausted, and she’d even received a few injuries from the better fighters. However, the majority left the Arena crippled and crying from her powerful grips and bites.
“She’s a glatchin’ zombie,” Catherine repeated nearly every time.
The task and burden of testing applicants’ mettle was why the representing team did their best not to be landed in the ten lowest ranks in the entire country. Lílitha had unfortunately been eliminated in the beginning rounds of the preliminaries, when the games were most chaotic. It was a classic trap that any fighter could fall into, no matter their Level. She had to test applicants for the remaining three days of Pressure Week.
Despite how exhausting her task was, she was probably using it to let out her frustrations on the poor souls trying to have a place in their school.
After an hour, Lílitha had completed her respite period and was ready for another thousand challengers. Fully energized, she was able to beat the first few with no problem. Hopes were being crushed left and right, and the Fistborn students were thriving on it.
“And now… the next challenger facing our Lílitha… a Level 2 human girl from Indiana… with a score of 62 tacks… Calista Medley!”
Harrison leaned forward, his sapphire eyes locking onto the human girl. She was anything but confident as she continuously adjusted her orange suit, her feet shifting as she circled to look at the crowds. The screen zoomed in so they could see the fear plastered across her face.
Calista Medley
Beginning Fighter
Level 2
Delaine scoffed. “Why is she looking around so much? Focus on your enemy!”
As if she heard her, the girl looked at Lílitha, who leaned on one of her feet. Her arms were crossed as she regarded the girl with ridicule.
“She’s bored,” Reilly observed.
“I don’t blame ‘er. All we’re gettin’ are losers,” Catherine grumbled. “Hardly anythin’ to fuss over.”
“The next fight starts in 10… 9…”
The girl quickly got into position, gulping. As she stared at Lílitha, her emerald green eyes hardened with determination.
“FIGHT!”
===
Calista uncomfortably twisted and turned in her combat suit. It was nothing fancy, just an elastic second skin that stretched over her body with protective padding stitched in, the tougher parts covering the most sensitive areas. It was light and flexible enough to move around easily. The color was torturing her; an ugly, bright orange, nothing like the suits she’d seen in the promos.
She was in the second group of challengers, waiting in the hall for her turn. The first group had already been taken to the arena, going out one-by-one to confront Lílitha Houdge in combat.
Calista’s nerves skyrocketed with every fight that passed. Almost everyone was humiliating themselves by being smashed into the ground after five seconds. Paeseoans, Seeyastians, Martians, Mercurians, and all sorts of mixed species had the glitches kicked out of them, and by an Ilamikoan, no less. Even Earthians underestimated that species in the Versus world.
Lílitha was the most vicious fighter Calista had seen in her life. At first, she’d thought she was downright adorable, resembling a 7-year-old girl with huge, black eyes that curled at the ends and large, pointed ears that resembled a lynx’s. Now, she was her worst nightmare, her sharp teeth glinting threateningly each time she dug them into her opponents’ armor. It was as if she wished the armor wasn’t there.
She wrung her gloved hands together, sweating profusely. She felt helpless and completely alone. She shouldn’t have crashed at the fans. She should’ve just stayed home. She should’ve just gone to the Socializer school.
“Calista Medley to the arena. Repeat, Calista Medley to the arena. Your fight begins in T-minus 150 seconds,” a woman’s voice spoke through the speakers.
Task Acquired: Fight Lílitha Houdge— 10 XP
Glancing at the other waiting candidates around her, she took a deep breath, trying not to spit out her stomach. She could hear the announcer introducing her as she approached the arena entrance.
“And now… the next challenger facing our Lílitha… a Level 2 human girl from the state of Indiana… with a score of 62 tacks… Calista Medley!”