City of the Falling Sky

by Joseph Evans

  At that moment the commentators burst into life. They were being broadcast around the stadium, and the sound of their voices was entering the pods.

  “Hi, I’m Mick Mannerim and we are here once again at the sold out Skyfall Stadium for the twenty seventh annual Friction Mega Meltdown! I’m here tonight with fellow commentator Jowe Kingsfoller. What a night we’ve got lined up, hey Jowe?”

  “Yeah, a fantastic night ahead of us, Mick. And some interesting new talent too.”

  The commentators talked about a couple of the Western Warriors’ new players for a moment, and then Seckry heard, “. . . for the Eastern Eidolons, Seckraman Sevenstars.”

  Seckry felt a buzz of excitement as he heard his own name echo around the massive stadium.

  “Not much is known about Sevenstars,” Jowe Kingsfoller continued, “but I’ve been told he’s got heaps of raw talent. Let’s just hope his lack of experience doesn’t get the better of him tonight.”

  “And of course,” said Mick Mannerim, “Sevenstars will be joining the Eidolon regulars Tenk Binko, Lessana Lubworth, Tippian Furst, the ever energetic Loca Thumbsuckle, and the veteran’s son, Kimmy Kod.”

  “Yeah, a great team, Mick, and Thumbsuckle’s always been a good team leader. She gets them close to the win, and many think she’s the one that can topple the Nightmare’s reign.”

  “And what about Kimmy Kod, Jowe? Do you think he will ever live up to his father’s expectations?”

  “It’s a tough one, Mick. We’ve yet to see the kind of skill from Kimmy that his father possesses. It must be hard for him, with all that pressure. But I hear he trains hard. Who knows? We’ll find out tonight.”

  “Okay, I’ve just been told we’re about to begin . . . and . . . here we go! The twenty seventh Annual Friction Mega Meltdown is underway!”

  Seckry braced himself.

  “Section 52,” said a deep voice. “Only one item in the game – the Meltdown Trophy. Find it to win.”

  A deafening horn reverberated through the entire stadium. The atmosphere in Seckry’s pod suddenly changed, and his body was wrenched into the air, floating in invisible liquid.

  Water.

  He wasn’t expecting to spawn underwater and neither was anybody else, but he had no time to be surprised. He had to find his way to the surface. If he didn’t, his avatar would run out of oxygen and he’d be out of the game in the first few minutes.

  But something was wrong. Seckry was choking. He tried coughing, but he couldn’t. It was as though his lungs had shut down.

  How long did he have? He glanced up to check his oxygen bar, but to Seckry’s surprise, he couldn’t see one. It was only when Seckry saw the faces of the other players writhing in pain and clutching their throats, that Seckry realised what was happening.

  They were suffocating.

  There was no oxygen bar because the game makers must have taken the underwater simulation one step further. They were drowning.

  Seckry could hear the binging sound of players’ pods locking down, deactivating, and sending them out of the game. One, two, three . . . four . . . five. They were dropping like flies.

  In front of him was mayhem. Amidst the bubbles was one green avatar, a spindly mecha, flailing around and sinking from its own weight, and another avatar, a red anima, squirming violently until it stopped abruptly and Seckry heard another bing.

  If Seckry didn’t move he was going to go unconscious himself. Where was the surface? Above them was what seemed to be a giant steel plate, and swarms of avatars were pounding on it to get through to some air.

  Seckry could feel his lungs in pain now, and he was panicking, which was losing him oxygen.

  He looked around frantically for his team mates, but he couldn’t see them, until he heard a gargled scream of, “Down!”

  Below him was Loca’s avatar, viciously motioning him downwards, before swimming into some kind of underwater tunnel.

  Seckry didn’t waste another moment. He propelled himself after her, down into the depths of the water, and into the dark hole.

  Just as he thought he was going to lose consciousness, he was ripped out of the water and oxygen flooded into his lungs.

  It took him a moment to realise what had happened.

  “You were nearly out, there!” said Tenk, his avatar, Basher, standing over him with a huge, toothless grin.

  They were standing on a metal, grated platform in a futuristic underground chamber.

  “What was happening?” Seckry asked, drenched.

  “The overseers,” Tenk said. “You know, the people who design the Meltdown events? I should have realised they’d pull a stunt like that. I’d heard rumours about more realistic water simulation being designed, but I didn’t know they were gonna physically drown us.”

  “Looks like you guessed right about the location,” Seckry said. “Section 52 it is.” He had gotten familiar with each of the areas of Atoria by now, and Section 52 was Friction’s futuristic, science fiction style land, in which many of the levels were designed.

  “Yep,” said Tenk. “As expected, and you know what that means? The gravity gun. It’s here somewhere. It always is in 52 Meltdown events. It’s epic, I’m telling you. Just gotta make sure it’s one of us that’s holding it. Preferably me,” he added.

  Now that Seckry’s ears had been drained of all water, he could hear the roaring of the crowd again, and the excitement of the commentators.

  “Sevenstars is up!” yelled Mick Mannerim. “That’s all six members of the Eidolons successfully out of the water. What of a turn of events, Jowe?”

  “Very surprising, Mick. What a vicious start to the game! We’ve lost almost half the players! Gindling, Ubblepots, Hibbins . . . Ironstamp, all of them out of the game in the first few minutes. I mean, who would have expected it? A completely new form of atmospheric simulation, throwing the players straight into the deep end. Literally.”

  “And for the ones that have survived, Jowe, it’s got to be a blessing, right?”

  “Yeah, there’s a lot less competition now, but there are still some super tough players in there.”

  “And just to remind our viewers at home, the safety of the players is always first and foremost at the official Friction events, our medics are at hand and are working with the eliminated players to make sure they regain consciousness and are not injured in any way.”

  “Come on,” said Tenk. “The others are ahead of us.” Basher jogged away into the darkness, his hulking feet making the metal platform shake with every stomp. Seckry ran after him, shaking the water out of Anikam’s fur as he went.

  As they turned a corner, Tenk shouted, “Seckry! Duck!”

  Seckry immediately dropped to the floor, as Basher pulled out his default weapon, a plasma canon, and beamed a ray of energy at a surprise pursuer, sending him flying back into the water while shards of metal panged against the walls.

  Bing.

  Another player down.

  “Thanks!” muttered Seckry, still shaken.

  They emerged into a corridor with a set of exits to find Loca, Kimmy, Lessana and Tippian.

  “This could be a trap,” said Loca. “Some of these could be dead ends. We can’t afford to all get stuck. What we’re gonna have to do is split up. Take a corridor each. It’s our best chance of getting through. Even if only one of us makes it, it’s better than none.”

  Each of them entered a separate tunnel and Seckry ran as fast as he could to make it through. It was longer than he imagined it would be, but he eventually burst out into a vast chamber.

  Seckry drew back his arrow and almost fired as another player burst out of a nearby doorway, but he stopped himself just in time as he realised it was Loca’s avatar, Kittya.

  “Seckry!” she said exasperatedly. She glanced around her at some more noise and out of another exit popped a wheezing Basher.

  “You okay, Tenk?”

  “I tell you what,” Tenk said, strained. “I think Basher’s put on some weight in the l
ast year.”

  Following Tenk came Tippian’s avatar Apocalyptia, waving his gun around like a mad machine.

  “Where are the others?” said Loca.

  “Oh my word!” yelled Jowe Kingsfoller. “Benjabob Truskin has just climbed inside the head of that beast!”

  The four of them stopped and looked at each other, and Seckry felt his stomach churn.

  “Beast?” said Loca, but before they could even begin to worry, they were under fire. Pellets were panging all around them and they scattered in different directions.

  Seckry launched himself behind some crates, until he saw a sign printed on them labelled ‘Dangerous Explosives.’ He flung himself away from them, across the room, and behind some pipes.

  Up on a ledge was one of the Southern Slayer avatars, a thin anima with two pistols, raining bullets down at Loca. Was Seckry close enough to take a shot?

  He pulled back his arrow and aimed. He fired and missed. The anima turned in Seckry’s direction, surprised by the whizzing arrow, but before it could raise its pistol, Seckry had let loose another, this time thudding straight into the creature’s forehead and knocking it off the platform, out of the competition.

  “Yes!” Seckry said to himself, and Loca gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up from the other side of the area as a bing sounded around them and echoed into nothing.

  At that moment, Lessana appeared out of an air ventilation shaft and clambered down some pipes.

  “Where’ve you been?” said Loca.

  “Climbing through vents thanks to you,” Lessana said maliciously. “You gave me the short straw on purpose.”

  “Have you seen Kimmy?” Loca asked. “Is he okay?”

  “Kimmy? How would I have seen him? Didn’t he get through his tunnel? I bet he gave up halfway through and quit the game.”

  “Lessana, Kimmy wouldn’t quit,” Loca said furiously.

  “Oh no!” yelled the commentator Mick Mannerim, “Looks like that’s the end for Kimmy Kod, Jowe. Very unfortunate. Very unfortunate.”

  “Kimmy . . .” Loca said, pained.

  “Come on, Loca,” Seckry said reassuringly. “We can still do it. Let’s get your plan back in action and win this thing.”

  “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s station ourselves around the outer perimeter of this chamber and pick off any players that enter, then when there’s a lull we can move through that door over the far side and get our bearing in that room.”

  Seckry positioned himself behind a pipe that had been burst by a bullet and which was billowing out steam, providing good camouflage for him while he aimed his bow and arrow at enemies. The others all dotted around the chamber and did an equally good job of taking out intruders as soon as they entered.

  As soon as things went quiet, Loca shouted, “Let’s go, let’s mov–”

  But Loca’s words died in mid sentence as a deep, sub atomic rumble made the metal beneath their feet vibrate.

  “What in Gedin’s name was that?” said Tenk.

  But there was no need for anyone to answer. The wall opposite them started buckling, and there was a deafening screech of breaking metal. Then the entire wall collapsed as a giant mechanical suit of some sort stomped over the rubble and began to head towards them.

  “It’s that Benjabob Truskin!” Loca said. “That’s the beast the commentators were on about.”

  “Well I’m not gonna stand here and be trampled on,” said Lessana angrily, and she stepped out of their cover, straight into the giant’s path.

  “Lessana! No!” Loca yelled, and Tenk tried to grab her.

  But Lessana had no intention of listening to any of them. Her avatar, Ogg, stood defiantly and began unloading bullets into the chest of the huge thing. There was a panging of metal and some discharged electricity as cables within its body were pierced and frayed, but it continued to move forward with monolithic steps.

  “Take that, you Northern Nightmare noob!” Lessana bellowed, but the mecha leant forward its unforgiving face and sent a beam of razor sharp light right through Lessana’s body, slicing her in half and sending her out of the game.

  Loca slammed her fist onto the grating.

  “Aaargh! That girl is unbelievable! She won’t listen to a word anyone says.”

  “We’re better off without her!” shouted Tippian. “I’ve got a much better way of bringing him down.”

  Tippian had opened a pack of gadgets and circuitry on the floor and was quickly stuffing a few different components together with his big metal hands.

  “What are you doing?” Loca yelled. “We haven’t got time for this!”

  “Loca, just trust me, alright! Just keep him away from me for two more minutes.”

  “Tipps, we ain’t got two more minutes!” said Tenk, cowering behind some rubble.

  “You better have something going in less than ten seconds Tippian, or we’re all gonners!”

  “I’m trying!” Tippian screamed.

  The Northern Nightmare controlled mecha bore down upon Loca, raised one of its enormous fists and four holes appeared, one on each of its knuckles.

  “Run!” screamed Tenk, but Tippian shouted, “Wait!” and thrust Apocalyptia’s mechanical arm out in front of him, holding a plastic box that had a lever on it, and was hanging with wires and a couple of batteries.

  The giant mecha’s arm began shaking, as if an invisible force was trying to wrench it away.

  Tippian pressed a few buttons and tilted the lever.

  The mecha’s arm swung away from them, out to one side. The rest of its body was now trembling, unstable and ready to collapse.

  “You’re controlling that thing?” Loca said in disbelief.

  Tippian shrugged Apocalyptia’s shoulders. “I’m a genius,” he said simply.

  Benjabob Truskin’s avatar, that had been controlling the mecha from the seat inside its head, was now trying to scramble out. Tippian pressed a couple more buttons and the ear slammed shut on it, locking the player in.

  Seckry and Loca watched as the mecha’s arm curled back in and pointed its fist at its own head.

  “Who’s smiling now?” Tippian said, and pressed a button.

  Flames burst out of the machine’s knuckles, engulfing its own head and the player inside with furious, red hot fire. They all felt the heat as the room flashed with orange light. As the screams of the player echoed around them, Seckry had a horrible feeling that the heat inside the player’s pod had been just as well programmed as the oxygen. A bing signalled the defeat of another combatant, and the empty avatar hung limp inside the scorched cockpit.

  “Well done, Tipp–”

  Crack!

  Apocalyptia fell face first onto the floor, green liquid oozing out of his broken body, and Loca screamed.

  Seckry spun around and saw a humanoid, standing with a pistol, shaking like a leaf and frozen to the spot.

  Seckry was about to ready his weapon when he spotted Tippian’s remote control at his feet and realised that nobody was controlling the giant robot any more.

  “Look out!” he shouted, and he, Loca, and Tenk dived in opposite directions as the gigantic beast fell forwards like a monstrous, metal ragdoll, obliterating their hiding place and crushing Tippian’s assassin into oblivion.

  “Both alright?” Loca called, as the echoes died and the room filled with thick dust and ash.

  “I’m fine!” Seckry called back, his leg trapped underneath the elbow of the limp robot.

  “Tenk?” Loca called, but there was no answer.

  Seckry craned his neck to see if he could spot Tenk but there was no need.

  “And that’s Tenk Binko out of the competition!” shouted Mick Mannerim. “Could this be the beginning of the end for the Eastern Eidolons?”

  “Not yet!” Loca called out viciously. “Come on, Seck, it’s just us two left, we have to get to the trophy, it must be in that direction.”

  “Wait, I’m trapped!” Seckry said, trying to heave himself out.

  “Okay, I’m comin
g to help,” said Loca, and Seckry heard her scrambling over the robot.

  “Here, take my hand,” she said, appearing above him.

  Seckry grabbed the anima’s wrist and she hauled him halfway out before darting her head to one side and nearly dropping him.

  “What is it?” Seckry said, scrambling and just catching a hold on one of the giant fingers.

  “Seckry!” Loca said quickly and furiously. “Get to the trophy! It’s just you!”

  Before Seckry could say, “What?” Loca was hit by a huge, invisible force wave that flung her into the wall and smashed her avatar to pieces.

  Bing.

  “Loca!” Seckry shouted.

  Seckry wrenched himself up onto the machine, whipped out his bow, and with rage, fired an arrow straight into the chest of Loca’s attacker, a big anima with reptile-like features, holding some kind of force canon.

  Bing.

  Was it really just Seckry left? Was he the Eastern Eidolon’s last chance at winning the game?

  How many other players were still alive? He ducked behind the robot for a moment, trying to listen to the commentators. He couldn’t just run across the arena, it was a sure death wish.

  “Loca Thumbsuckle, Jowe,” said Mick Mannerim. “Always a great player, one of the best Skyfall’s had in a long time, some may say.”

  “Yeah, Mick, a fantastic team player and a great leader.”

  “With just Seckraman and Mobbins left, will it be the east or the north that win the Friction tournament this year?”

  “It’s a close one, that’s for sure, Mick.”

  Just him and Mobbins left?

  Seckry took a deep breath. Mobbins might be physically stronger, but Seckry wanted it more. He wanted to do it for his teammates.

  Seckry darted from his hiding place, weaving in and out of view, and sped into the next room.

  It was empty except for a few lifeless avatars who had been killed earlier in the game. The only problem was, this room led to two other rooms, and it seemed like those led to even more. Which way should he go?

  There was only one thing Seckry could do, and that was make a blind choice. He picked left first and began exploring, but after ten minutes of mindless wandering, he reached a dead end and had to turn back. When he followed the rooms to the right he sensed he was getting somewhere, and crawled through pipes, tunnels and walked across narrow indoor bridges until he reached a gigantic open chamber with something glowing brightly in the centre.

  As he neared he could see it clearly now. There was no doubt about it, it was the Meltdown trophy, floating and spinning just above its pedestal. Seckry couldn’t waste any more time. He took one last look around him and made a run for it.

  And he hit the floor with a bang, his face pressed to the metal grating.

  “I don’t think so, little boy,” said a deep voice above him. Mobbins.

  Where had he come from?

  “You think you can beat me?” Mobbins said. “At your very first time in a Meltdown?” he let out a bellowing laugh and pressed harder on Seckry’s head. Seckry could feel the grating almost cutting into Anikam’s skin. He tried to wriggle free but it was no use.

  “Game over,” Mobbins said, and raised his foot into the air, ready to stamp on Seckry’s skull with his humanoid boot.

  Seckry could hear the crowd roaring, and the commentators were going wild with the tension of these last moments.

  Then –

  There was a deep, deafening wave of sound and Mobbins was lifted into the air.

  “I don’t believe it!” Jowe Kingsfoller was screaming. “Kimmy Kod has returned from nowhere!”

  Kimmy?

  Seckry wrenched himself from the floor to see Kimmy standing at the opposite end of the room, holding some kind of huge canon.

  “All this time we thought he was out cold,” yelled Jowe Kingsfoller. “And he was actually battling for the infamous gravity gun! Can you believe it?”

  Mobbins was floating in mid air, flailing about and roaring in outrage. He tried to fire his weapon at Kimmy but the shot hit the roof of the building.

  “No you don’t,” Kimmy said determinedly, and cranked back a lever on the gun.

  Mobbins suddenly started spinning rapidly and screaming, his gun flying out of his hands and hitting the floor with a clang.

  “If you had a bit more respect for your opponents, you might get a little bit back,” Kimmy said, and then swung the gun to the left, dragging Mobbins’ avatar through the air and pummelling him into the wall. Kimmy turned the power off and ran over to Seckry whilst Mobbins fell to a crumpled heap on the floor.

  “You okay, Seckry?”

  “Thanks Kimmy! We thought you’d been killed!” Seckry said, shocked.

  “I almost was,” Kimmy said, helping him up. “Look at me!”

  Now that Kimmy was close Seckry could see how battered and bruised his humanoid avatar, Slider, was.

  “Mobbins is just stunned,” Kimmy said. “You’d better finish him off with your bow.”

  “My pleasure,” said Seckry.

  Mobbins was growling and trying to get to his feet, but Kimmy pointed the gravity gun in his direction and poised his hand on the lever, ready to zap him back against the wall if he tried to reach for his gun.

  “The Northern Nightmare never loses,” Mobbins choked.

  “Looks like that’s about to change,” said Seckry, and fired an arrow straight into the avatar’s skull.

  “Kim, do you realise we’ve just won?” he said.

  A grin of pure glee emerged on Kimmy’s face.

  “Touch the trophy, Kimmy,” Seckry said. “You deserve it.”

  “I wouldn’t have got this far if you guys hadn’t have fought the rest of them. We won this as a team. Let’s grab it together.”

  They both counted down from three before each gripping a handle.

  There was a blinding light and the roar of the crowd became deafening as their pods clicked open and revealed every player with a synchronised pneumatic hiss.

  “The winners of the twenty seventh annual Friction Mega Meltdown, the Eastern Eidolons!” shouted Mick Mannerim.

  Seckry stumbled out feeling exhausted but ecstatic.

  As his eyes adjusted to the light of the stadium he saw Loca run past him like an unleashed animal and fling her arms around Kimmy, almost toppling him to the ground.

  “Seckry!” came a soft voice, and he felt a cool hand take hold of his own.

  “Eiya!” Seckry said, turning around and smiling.

  “You were great!” She hugged him and Seckry felt her cheek briefly brush against his.

  Once everyone had hugged him and congratulated him, Seckry joined everyone else in sitting down while the Friction pods were whisked away and the commentators got up onto a stage that had been put in their place.

  After getting everyone to cheer again and talking a bit about the game, Mick Mannerim said, “And now, a word from the legend that is . . . Kolda Kod, ladies and gentlemen!”

  The crowd erupted, and Kolda wheeled himself across the stage.

  “Thank you, Mick.”

  Kolda cleared his throat and there was a moment of sharp sounding feedback from the microphone as he lowered it to himself.

  “I remember the very first time that I entered a Friction pod,” he began. “It was a grotty old thing that had a hole in one side and a cracked screen. There was none of this ‘atmospheric simulation’ stuff back then . . . but maybe that was a good thing, eh?” He clutched his throat and the crowd, along with lots of the Friction players, gave a knowing laugh. “That was a shock tonight, wasn’t it?” he added as an aside, raising his eyebrows.

  The crowd settled down and he continued.

  “As soon as I stepped in to that pod, I knew I was going to make it my life’s goal to become the best Friction player to ever live. It was as though I’d found my ultimate motive, my dream. I fell in love with the game, and I spent my school years practising nonstop.”


  Loca was leaning forward in her chair, looking furious.

  “If he uses this to have another go at Kimmy, after Kimmy’s just fippin won it for us,” she hissed. “I’m gonna go up there and strangle the man!”

  “The truth is,” Kolda said, and he paused for a moment. “The truth is . . . that everyone is different. And everyone has their own dreams. I’d like to call my son up here, if I could.”

  There was ruffling from the crowd, and Seckry saw Kimmy making his way nervously up to the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Kolda said slowly. “I’d like to congratulate my son, Kimmy Kod . . . I’d like to congratulate my son on becoming the Skyfall Maths Standout of the Year.”

  The crowd wasn’t sure how to react, but Loca started clapping furiously and the rest of the crowd joined in, even shouting a few cheers for him.

  Kolda put his arms out and gave Kimmy a hug, and Seckry was sure that Kolda said something private to his son in that moment.

  “And secondly,” Kolda said. “I would like to congratulate him on such a monumental Friction performance.”

  The crowd roared again, louder this time.

  “I’d also like to call up Seckry Sevenstars, whose equally outstanding performance has impressed us all. What a game for a first time meltdown?”

  Seckry made his way onto the stage, trying his hardest not to blush, even though he knew his cheeks wouldn’t listen.

  “Okay, and let’s have a huge round of applause for the rest of the winning team!” yelled Jowe Kingsfoller. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Eastern Eidolons!”

  Loca, Tenk, Tippian, and a smug Lessana filed out onto the stage, and the crowd roared again.

  It was only then that the situation seemed to sink in. Less than a year ago Seckry had never even heard of Friction, and here he was now, being cheered by about fifteen thousand people.

  As Seckry scanned the masses in front of him he caught sight of his mum, waving frantically and dabbing the tears away from her eyes with a cloth. Next to her was Eiya, smiling her unique smile, her eyes glistening at him, and Seckry couldn’t help but form a huge grin himself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bubble the Baby Gimmypug