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The announcer's voice boomed over the arena, dripping with manufactured hype. "And for our next bout, let's welcome back the undefeated newcomer, 'Kid Hacker'! His challenger tonight is a prickly veteran with a vicious streak, 'Porcupine'! This is sure to be a pointedly wonderful duel!"
Ethan turned to his friends, a low whistle escaping his lips. "It's my turn. Porcupine… isn't that the guy who just skewered that wolf psionicist?"
Seraphina nodded, her analytical gaze fixed on the stage where the man with the green mohawk was swaggering. "The very same. Based on the data and what we just witnessed, his ability is a porcupine beastification. He can fire a high-volume burst of psionically-charged quills with incredible initial speed." She leaned closer to Ethan, her voice dropping to a serious, urgent tone. "But his power seems front-loaded. When the wolf-kin hit him, the quills on his body weren't embedded deeply, which suggests he can't sustain a prolonged barrage. He'll go for a quick, decisive kill. Aiming for your vitals. Eyes, throat. Be careful, Ethan."
Under his mask, Ethan's lips curved into a confident smirk. The modulated voice that emerged was pure, unflappable calm. "Relax, Seraphina. No matter how fast he is, he can't be faster than XLR8."
He strode to the ring entrance, the digital life-and-death waiver flashing before his eyes for a cursory signature before he paid the entry fee. He walked onto the stage with a confident, rolling gait that immediately drew his opponent's ire. The man with the green mohawk and sinister sneer stalked toward him.
"Heh, little brat," Porcupine growled, his voice a low rasp. "I advise you to surrender now. The quills on this old man's body aren't kind to newcomers."
Ethan just chuckled, the sound distorted and otherworldly. "A half-filled bottle of water," he retorted with an ancient Earth saying, "clangs the loudest."
Porcupine's sneer faltered, replaced by confusion. "What did you just say!?"
"I'm saying you're half-baked," Ethan clarified, his tone cool and cutting. "All bluff and no substance."
The taunt landed like a physical blow. Rage contorted Porcupine's features, his fists clenching at his sides. He was a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve—a fatal flaw in this arena. "Very good, little brat," he seethed. "You have successfully, royally, angered me. I won't give you a single chance to surrender."
Ethan tilted his head, a picture of nonchalance. "Then what if I surrender right now, before the match even starts?"
Porcupine froze, his mouth agape. The question completely short-circuited his building rage, turning it into sputtering frustration. He seemed genuinely terrified that Ethan would forfeit and rob him of his violent satisfaction. He spun around and screamed at the referee's platform. "HEY! What are you waiting for?! Start the match!"
The referee rolled his eyes. "I declare, let the match… begin!"
Instantly, Porcupine began to transform. Sharp, thick quills erupted from his back and arms as his body hunched over, morphing into a humanoid porcupine. The transformation was fast.
But Ethan was faster.
His hand, hidden in the loose sleeve of his robe, had already depressed the face of the Omnitrix. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, he became a blur of black and blue. In less than a nanosecond, XLR8 zipped across the stage and delivered a powerful kick to Porcupine's side.
The transformation was violently interrupted. A surge of psionic energy, with nowhere to go, rampaged through Porcupine's system. He crashed to the ground, spitting a mouthful of blood, his body convulsing from the shock.
XLR8 lifted a taloned foot, ready to end the match with another swift kick, but Porcupine wasn't done. With a desperate roar, his eyes flew open. The green mohawk on his head stiffened, transforming into a spray of sharp quills that shot directly at Ethan's face.
The alien's visor deflected the attack, but the barrage wasn't just aimed at his head; it was a wide cone targeting his entire upper body. Robbed of his finishing blow, Ethan had no choice but to blur back into the distance, easily dodging the projectiles.
Porcupine staggered to his feet, wiping fresh blood from his mouth. His scalp was now completely bald, shiny and reflective under the harsh arena lights. "Damn it," he gasped. "Almost tricked me, you little brat! This old man is always one step ahead."
A series of high-pitched chirps—XLR8's laugh—filled the stage. "Hehe! Sorry, my bad! If you were always bald it'd be fine, but you had such an impressive head of green hair, and now… well… hehehe!"
A furious, beet-red flush crawled up Porcupine's neck. "You dare laugh at me!" he shrieked. Throwing all caution to the wind, he forced his chaotic psionic energy into completing the beastification. Now fully transformed, he crouched low, a dense forest of menacing quills covering his back and shoulders.
He unleashed his psionic skill. The quills launched from his body like a biological Gatling gun, a dense, whistling wall of spikes.
Tch, annoying, Ethan thought, his mind working at superhuman speed. He became a living phantom, his incredible velocity his only defense. The volley was too dense to approach head-on; he had to maintain his distance, using the entire stage. He knew that the farther he was, the more the quills would spread, creating larger gaps for him to weave through.
As he dodged, he confirmed Seraphina's theory. The number of quills on Porcupine's body was visibly decreasing with each volley, not regenerating. Alright then. Plan B it is. A new strategy clicked into place. Let's just drag this out. See how much Aura you have left to fuel this tantrum, especially after that internal injury I gave you.
The plan worked perfectly. After three minutes of the relentless barrage, the volleys began to thin dramatically. Under normal circumstances, Porcupine might have lasted longer, but the interrupted transformation and his panicked, all-out assault had burned through his reserves at a disastrous rate.
"Hehe," XLR8 chirped, seeing his opening. "My turn."
Ethan's own Aura flared, and his speed kicked up another notch. He expertly blurred through the now-sparse gaps between projectiles, closing the distance in an instant. Even up close, where the quills were tighter, his own attack speed was more than a match.
His sharp claws became a blur, his hands moving impossibly fast to bat away the last few unavoidable spikes. Then he was on his opponent. Porcupine's body was still covered in defensive quills, but XLR8's talons were made of incredibly dense alien bone. He grabbed the beast-man without fear, lifting the spiky body as if it were a bowling ball, spun him around several times, and hurled him out of the ring with all his might.
"You bastard, you just wait for me!" Porcupine screamed as he sailed helplessly through the air, landing in an unceremonious heap below.
The referee raised his arm. "In this match, Kid Hacker is victorious!"
The electronic screen updated: Kid Hacker: 2 Matches / 2 Wins / 0 Losses.
The familiar chaos of cheers and groans erupted from the stands. Ethan ignored it, collecting his prize money from a staff member—a 50,000 credit base prize plus a 40,000 credit share of the betting pool. A cool ninety thousand credits for a few minutes of work. It was enough to live comfortably for a long time.
As his match ended, the schedule rolled over. Next up was a two-on-two team match: Marcus and Seraphina. Their opponents were a stern-looking pair, one holding a gleaming saber, the other a sharp, thin sword. Metal-type psionicists.
The referee's voice boomed once more. "Let the match… begin!"
Instantly, Marcus's muscles swelled with power as Seraphina's hands glowed, weaving a powerful Defensive Aura and a new layer of Bedrock Armor over his form before casting the same on herself. Across the ring, the two opponents charged, their weapons gleaming, correctly identifying the hulking, armored Marcus as the primary threat.
Not showing an ounce of weakness, Marcus roared and charged to meet them, his eyes carefully tracking their steps, watching for any attempt to flank him and get to the critical support standing behind him.
The battle was on.
THROW POWER STONES.