Conscious, Conscientious

Deon wasn’t sure if Skrili and Pang were going to pounce at each other or just stand there, glaring into each other’s eyes.

The standoff lasted for an uncomfortably silent and long several seconds. He couldn’t see Skrili’s face from where he stood, but Pang had an expression that was like a cross between a schoolgirl trying not to laugh in class, and a bloodthirsty wolf.

Phillip was situated behind Pang just as Deon was behind Skrili, and the only sign of life he made was removing his hands from his pockets slowly. Deon didn’t know why, but this unsettled him further.

After a moment, Deon glanced down at Xavier and the Fullmetal Consciousnesst, who were both motionless on the ground.

“Don’t look so concerned. I didn’t kill them,” Pang suddenly said. “It would’ve been easy, though: I could’ve just crushed the Fullmetal guy with his own metal, and forced the big guy to analyze himself until his brain gave out…some consciousnesses are so lame.”

Deon looked back at Pang, who stood innocently. It doesn’t even faze her that she just completely cheap-shot these guys, he thought.

Pang’s eyes shifted between Deon and Skrili and she let out a chuckle. “Okay, okay, you guys don’t have to be so dramatic,” she teased. “You obviously wanna fight, so let’s get to it. Give me some specs.”

“Matchups,” Skrili demanded instantly.

“Whoa…alright, chill,” responded Pang. “Now if we’re doing that, I say we make this an opportunity to meet new people. I’ve never met this new teammate of yours and you don’t know Phillip, so let’s have the fights be myself versus your teammate, and you versus mine. It’ll be like a social event! Besides, you could use more friends.”

Skrili appeared hesitant with this offer. Deon knew when she called for matchups, she was probably counting on fighting Pang.

“Come on, Skrili…We already know too much about each other’s fighting—it would be so boring,” Pang persuaded. “But I mean…we don’t have to fight. Phillip and I can be on our merry way...”

“…Fine,” said Skrili.

Pang laughed. “You’re still such a pushover,” she told her. “Okay; I’m ready when you guys are.”

Skrili and Phillip wordlessly decided to be the ones to relocate. They walked to a nearby clearing, separated from Deon and Pang by a row of trees.

Deon watched them leave, and then fully internalized what was about to happen. So I’m fighting Pang…the girl who took out Miranda, Xavier and that Fullmetal guy like they were nothing. If she’s better than Skrili, this should be interesting, he thought. I bet Skrili will stop being so hostile towards me if I beat Pang and take her bag back.

Pang tranquilly placed Skrili’s bag and her own on the ground beside her and flipped her red hair. “So what’s your name? And how did you meet my dear friend Skrili?” she asked.

“I’m Deon. She and I fought over some apples yesterday,” he answered.

Pang shook her head and laughed briefly. “That girl’s too much. What’s your type?”

“Imaginer.”

Pang’s smile grew. “Perfect! That’s my favorite.”

It makes sense: she can use other people’s powers…a ‘Manipulator,’ they called it, Deon noted. I’ll have to be careful how I imagine, ‘cuz she can probably use what I make against me.

Not far from them, Skrili and Phillip faced off quietly in the tree-absent patch covered in dirt and dried-up grass. Phillip seemed to be waiting for Skrili to make the first move. Under normal circumstances, this would bother Skrili—but thanks to Ashley, she had the benefit of knowing Phillip was an Illusionist. However, he was most likely aware of Skrili’s type through Pang, which meant he might go for a finishing blow earlier in the fight.

I’ll give him what he wants and charge first, Skrili decided. I’ll spring his trap and make him fall into mine.

By now Skrili’s energy had returned from the aftereffects of overusing her earlier Power Rebound, so without worry she leaned forward and darted at Phillip. The baggy clothes Deon made for her restricted her full speed and made it hard to keep from tripping, but she managed to hold herself up.

Phillip made no movement. He simply waited as Skrili came at him. She reached him and slowed down, throwing a fist at his stomach—but at the same time, she had already begun to turn around and kick behind her.

Just as Skrili expected, her fist passed through Phillip as if he were part of the air: it wasn’t Phillip, but an illusion. The actual Phillip was behind her, and he took a much-unexpected kick to the gut. He involuntarily spat out breath in response and hunched forward, grasping his stomach.

Skrili’s plan had worked: she predicted Phillip’s first illusion perfectly. He tricked her eyes into seeing him stand motionlessly, when in reality he had maneuvered himself to be behind her. It was the same strategy he used against Ashley until she realized what type he was.

Wasting no time, Skrili leaped at Phillip with a flying kick. This time the tall boy was able to hop to the right and dodge it. Once Skrili landed, she followed his steps—but somehow Phillip was no longer there. Realizing it was another trick, Skrili tried to turn to the left and shielded herself, but she was too late. Phillip’s shoulder banged into Skrili’s side and knocked her to the ground.

So he can make me think he’s moving one way when he’s really going the other, Skrili observed as she hurriedly climbed back to her feet. Phillip stood expressionless, his eyes blocked by his black hair. He didn’t begin a second attack—he only waited.

Based on Ashley’s fight with him and how this one’s going so far, it seems like this guy likes to be on defense, Skrili noticed. He waits for the opponent to attack and retaliates. But what if I don’t attack? So she remained still like him, watching closely and patiently. It became hushed—enough for them to hear Pang and Deon’s fight unfolding.

“Let’s do this!” announced Deon.

“Sure,” Pang responded composedly.

Here’s one I haven’t tried out here yet, Deon thought. He began running at Pang while imagining three dense, impenetrable black walls and a small ceiling of the same type. Deon brought the walls into existence around and behind Pang, concealing his miniature cave with the ceiling on top. Now Pang was trapped: the only way she could exit was the front, but by now Deon was too close and preparing a head-on attack.

But something was wrong: Pang showed no concern. In fact, she stood calmly, leaving herself completely vulnerable to the blow Deon would deliver. Pang merely observed the walls around her, and returned her golden eyes to Deon.

In natural response, Deon hesitated slightly. His pace slowed as he approached her, and when he proceeded to punch at her he held back significantly.

But as his fist was about to make contact, Pang suddenly smirked and fell backward—the back wall had vanished!

Deon stood confused with his fist still hanging there, as he watched Pang fall backward and perform a roll to quickly bring herself back to her feet.

Next he realized two bad signs: first, one of the side walls had also faded out of existence, and second: he was directly underneath the ceiling, while Pang had moved just outside its reach. Before he could escape, the wall and ceiling dropped onto him, tackling him to the ground with two loud thumps. In a frantic effort to avoid being crushed by their weight, he hastily imagined them out of existence.

Pang laughed jeeringly at Deon as he lay there, panting. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked him. “I really hope that’s not the best you can do.”

Deon slowly began the climb back to his feet, sore all over. Dangit…I know she’s a Manipulator, but this isn’t fair—People with my powers can’t imagine away stuff made by other Imaginers, yet she’s able to?

He finally stood and shot an angry look at Pang. “Hey! You could’ve killed me!”

Pang bolted at Deon, quicker than he would ever expect. Before he could even react, she jammed her knee into his gut. Deon leaned over and grunted in pain.

“Well that won’t happen again if you stop fighting like crap, will it?” Pang said in an alarmingly dark tone. “Now, I’ll give you one more chance to impress me. Don’t screw it up.”

Hunched over, Deon looked up at Pang. Despite her small and unintimidating size, at that moment she looked superior to him. She seemed bigger and stronger, and it made Deon feel like the feeblest fighter in the world.

It was mostly in her face: Pang maintained her larger-than-life expression as she looked down on him, expecting close to nothing. It was like he knew he would never be able to reach her level. A rage welled up in him. He suddenly couldn’t stand Pang. It had nothing to do with her conceit; it wasn’t even connected to the fact that she was a thief or a bully.

No: it was the realization that Pang was far out of his league, and she knew she was.

Deon hated it.

In a fury, Deon gazed slightly past Pang, to the air behind her. There he imagined into existence a round ball about the size of his head. It was of a thick, leathery substance that was heavy enough to hurt someone significantly if thrown. He produced a second one beside it, and rapidly continued creating them until there were thirty of these dense objects floating in place.

Oh, I’ll impress you, Deon thought dourly. He sent the first ball plummeting at Pang’s head—but his heart skipped as he realized he had thrown it much faster than he intended to.

Just as the ball was about to hit, Pang shifted very slightly. The ball grazed her cheek and Deon heard it scrape skin. Right after the impact, Deon imagined the ball away. His heart began to pound—if that had hit Pang directly, she definitely would have died.

Pang blinked a couple times out of surprise. She had a long red cut across her cheek and blood slowly emerged from it. She brought her hand to the injury and then observed her fingers, gazing at the blood. She seemed fascinated by it. Then her awe evolved into excitement—her eyes came alive and a small smile formed. She refocused her gaze to Deon.

“Funny that you should get mad at me for almost killing you,” she said. “If I hadn’t sensed your attack, you might’ve taken my head right off.”

Deon knew she was right: in his rage, he got carried away and almost murdered her. He didn’t know what to say…he just continued staring at Pang.

Pang looked at her blood again. “You know…I like you, Deon,” she said. “I guess good looks aren’t the only thing you’ve got going for you. You have an edge…a temper. Keep using that.”

Deon remained silent, but he didn’t like where this was going: it sounded like Pang was considering this the conclusion of their fight.

“It’s too bad, though…you still have a lot to learn,” she continued. “I’ll give you a head-start: Whenever you trigger your powers, I can sense it—like how I know you have twenty-nine leather ball attacks floating behind me.”

Deon cursed under his breath.

“So do me a favor and get stronger for the next time we meet. If I can manage to piss you off then, maybe we’ll have a good fight.” Pang laughed and turned towards her bag and Skrili’s.

“What the—the fight’s not over in case you didn’t notice!” Deon exclaimed. He started commanding the leather balls to keep attacking, but for some reason, they didn’t budge.

Pang paid no attention to him and kept walking. At that moment, one of the balls came swooping down at Deon. He tried to sidestep it, but it just followed his movement and nailed him in the arm. The impact took Deon down as the ball faded from existence. A moment later, she sent another one zooming at him, which bashed into his back. Then another came, and another, and another…

Soon Deon realized there was no escaping it: he was defeated. The last he could see was Pang picking up her red bag to pull out a sandwich. She nonchalantly sat down and watched Deon get pummeled with his own attack while she enjoyed her food.

Meanwhile, Skrili and Phillip still stood staring at each other, doing nothing else but breathing and blinking. Neither refused to back down: they both insisted on the other taking the offense.

Finally, Phillip was the one to crack. “Look around you,” he warned in his soft voice.

Skrili did so: surrounding her in a circle were five other Phillips, each standing a short distance from her. Immediately, Skrili started trying to break the code of this oncoming attack. Obviously none of these can actually hurt me: Phillip can only make illusions, not actual objects. But one of them is the real Phillip…and it’s not the one I’ve been staring at, that would be too obvious…

Skrili heard footsteps rushing towards her from behind. She turned and watched this Phillip charge at her. He wouldn’t let the first attack be the real him, she decided—and she was right: he jumped at her, but merely passed through her like air.

Next another Phillip came running at her. Skrili decided against this one as well, taking a risk, but she was right. One by one, most of the Phillips attacked and continued to attack as if to confuse her, but they continually passed through her like ghosts. Skrili wasn’t impressed.

Just as I thought: he’s not much of an offensive fighter, noticed Skrili. She saw that by now, only one of the Phillips was still waiting to her left. There he is.

Skrili launched herself at this last Phillip with a kick aimed at his chest…but she was taken by surprise when her foot passed through this one, as well. Since she had expected to make contact, Skrili landed clumsily and rolled onto the ground. What?! she wondered, standing again.

Before her eyes, all six of the Phillips vanished. She was alone in the clearing.

“Up here,” came Phillip’s voice.

Skrili looked to where she heard him. Up in a tree across from her, Phillip sat high on a branch. “You’re a smarter fighter than I expected,” he told her. She had to strain to hear his practical whisper of a voice. “It’s obvious my simple tricks won’t work on you, so I distracted you with an illusion to prepare a more…advanced technique.” He seemed awfully hesitant, as if afraid of what he was about to do.

Skrili waited and listened.

“I’m sorry you have to experience this…I wish I didn’t have to do it, but you have to understand: I can’t afford to lose…I can’t.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Please forgive me.”

Immediately, it appeared. Skrili didn’t know what it was, but it was too much to comprehend: everything in front of her vanished, being replaced with the darkest of blackness and the brightest white light. These colors formed shapes everywhere: swirls, lines, undefined objects…and they all flashed and moved at different speeds in different directions.

And there was that sound…it was the most thunderous, enormous and horrendous sound Skrili had ever heard—yet somehow, it didn’t deafen her ears. Worse: it just got louder and louder, never stopping. It was a constant crash, scream, roar, and explosion, all at once. It was paralyzing. Skrili felt herself beginning to shake uncontrollably.

But on top of everything, the images appeared. Black and white, flashing, horrific images: a screaming child. A gravestone. A bloody knife. The list continued. In her fit of quivering, Skrili’s knees buckled and tears began to force themselves out of her eyes. She slowly managed to bring her sleeve-covered hands to her eyes to block them from these incessant sights, but still they remained, ever flashing in the eye of her mind.

Skrili gritted her teeth. Like a small child, she stood trying to hide her face from this nightmare. The noise was still getting louder. The flashes became more rapid and violent.

Skrili couldn’t take it any longer. She felt her mind pulling itself away from her, desperately trying to retreat. Her thoughts became jumbled and illogical. She felt her body collapse lifelessly. Finally, her mind managed to escape her.

~

The sound of the woods around Deon became known again, as he felt something pressing against his cheek and pushing his head back and forth against the ground slowly. Deon moaned and then opened his eyes.

“Hmph…you’re still alive.”

The weight released from Deon’s face and he looked up to see Skrili standing over him. She had awoken him with her foot.

“Still alive? What’s that supposed to mean?” Deon snapped.

“There was no way you would’ve stood a chance against Pang,” explained Skrili. She seemed distant—even more than usual. It was as if she had seen a ghost.

“Hey! I…I realize that now,” admitted Deon. “But what’s with you? You look like you just woke up or something.”

“I did. Phillip defeated me. We lost.”

Deon figured that much. With a great deal of effort and self-forcing, Deon brought himself up into a sitting position. Everything was sore: Pang had pummeled him with his own creations. He looked around to see that everybody else was gone. “Where are Xavier and that weird guy?”

Skrili shrugged. “They must have left. It’s been a little while.”

“Oh. Well, this was all crazy.”

Skrili didn’t respond. She stepped past him and headed towards the tree they had placed their things at earlier. Deon watched as she grabbed the clothes she had hung up on a branch, and checked to see if they had dried yet.

“Going somewhere?” he asked her.

“To find Pang and Phillip.”

Deon’s eyes narrowed with disbelief. “You have to be joking—you might have forgotten, but they literally just COMPLETELY WRECKED US!”

Skrili said nothing as she placed her clothes back on the branch.

Deon sighed. “If we want to beat them, we have to get to their level…or higher.”

“Then get up,” Skrili commanded.

“W—What?”

“Get up,” she repeated. “You want to get stronger, right? The best way to do that is to fight.”

What got into her all the sudden? Deon wondered. “Yeah…but…can’t we at least recuperate for a bit?”

“I have no time for that. The longer we wait, the farther they go.”

Deon couldn’t believe this. All in one day, they fought Ashley and Miranda, Fullmetal and Xavier, and Pang and Phillip…and now Skrili was stubborn enough to keep going. He had never seen anyone so determined to keep fighting—besides himself—and it was all for some mysterious bag.

“I don’t know what’s in that bag of yours, but it must be pretty darn important to make you so uptight like this,” Deon noted as he stood to his feet. “How about this: I’ll fight you, but only if you promise to let me know what’s so special about your bag.”

“No,” Skrili objected. She stood in thought for a few moments. “This is how it will work: we’ll fight until I say we can stop. And if you somehow manage to beat me at least once, I’ll tell you about my bag.”

Deon smiled. This was his chance: if he beat Skrili, it would force her to give him more respect. “’Works for me,” he said. “When do we start?”

“Right now.”

“Whoa! Wait a sec—!”

Skrili dashed at Deon like an arrow, jumped up, and swung a kick into his chest. Yelping with surprise, Deon fell straight back and landed hard on the ground. He lay sprawled out and unmoving—that kick only made his body twice as sore.

“…Ow.” Deon grunted.

Skrili walked over and stood above him again with her arms crossed. “You lose the first fight,” she told him dispassionately. “Now get up.”

This girl is nuts...Deon thought, preparing himself to make a long day even longer.