It was time. Three full days had passed since the interviews, leaving time for the remaining competitors to rest, recover their strength – in some cases recover from injuries – and time for the administrators to finalize the knock out bracket of the tournament.

Codi stood with the others in the fighter’s lobby, watching the screens with everyone else. The officials had summoned the remaining competitors to watch together as the brackets were drawn, and she could guess the reason easily enough. With just thirty-two remaining, whittled down from a pool of over three hundred, each individual would be able to look their first opponent right in the eye as soon as the match was drawn.

Max stood beside her, hands in pockets, his face impassive as he waited for the screens to come alive. However, she could see his fingers nervously fidgeting beneath the fabric. He gave her a nervous smile and turned his eyes back to the screens. Kye stood by them as well, arms folded as he waited. His face showed a kind of easy curiosity, but no hint of anxiety.

Looking at his face, Codi smiled to herself and rolled her left shoulder. It was still stiff from the four hour sparring marathon she and Kye had undertaken following the debacle of the interview. He hadn’t held back and she’d felt his frustration each time he slammed her to the mat or landed a punch.

But this time she’d simply taken what she perceived was coming to her. The way Kye took out his frustration in the sparring arena presented her with an alarming mirror image of the way she herself operated, and it made her realise that to get back into Kye’s good graces she needed to let him blow off steam. Never in her life had she fully accepted responsibility so comfortably. For him, she was willing to do that.

Her gaze wandered over the other contestants. A low hum of conversation swept around the room as the others exchanged muttered words. She saw the group from Battlecast, five of them having made it through to the knock out, and they seemed in high good humour. Codi didn’t really blame them. If rumour was to be believed then the possibility of a Battlecast sweep of the podium slots was all too real. Varlin caught her searching gaze and a vicious smile slithered across his face.

“Hey,” Kye said, nudging her. “Don’t give knucklehead over there the satisfaction.”

She nodded, and managed to give what she hoped was a dismissive smirk before tearing her gaze away from Varlin and back to the screens. They came to life in a flash of white and Codi tensed in anticipation. After bold, black letters declared Bracket One, the first pairing of fighters came up, their portraits spinning into the foreground of the shot. After the interviews they’d all had to endure a photo shoot in full Gauntlet armour.

Chris O’Leary’s face appeared first, a thin smile on his face in the photograph. The other portrait was a hawk-faced girl from the Olympus Mons academy on Mars, but Codi didn’t recognise her name or her face from earlier rounds. A glance at the Battlecast fighters told her that O’Leary was not worried. Already he had returned to chatting with the others on his team with an air of carefree disinterest.

The screens flickered in an out and the next pairing appeared. Ripple Thawborn’s translucent features showed next, and this time her opponent was not so easily dismissed. The male in question was a young man named Thade, from the Nebula Academy, one of two from that group who had qualified, and although Codi hadn’t run into him yet, everybody knew his reputation. The semi-final of last year’s Gauntlet was something of a legend, where Thade had fought Bruno Varlin to the bitter end of a thirty minute bludgeoning match. Codi nodded and found herself hoping that Thade would eliminate the Battlecast competition.

The match ups for the first bracket continued on. Eventually Codi saw her own face flash up on the screen. It was strange seeing herself looking back at the camera, a blank expression on her face. She didn’t remember much about the photo shoot, just an uncomfortable feeling of being judged. Looking at the camera was about all she could manage.

Then her opponent flashed up. Relief and apprehension vied for dominance when the face of a girl named Brya Stone appeared. Codi recognised her from the Mayhem, wearing the brown coloured armour of Orion. A year two fighter, she had experience but none of the mystique that surrounded the heavy hitters like Varlin and O’Leary. She looked across the room and saw the girl looking back.

Codi gave her a nod. She got a glare in response. So much for sportsmanship then. She relaxed at the prospect. This girl evidently had a problem with her and Codi felt justified in reciprocating.

“New friend?” Kye murmured with a smirk.

“I tend to have that effect,” she returned and a wolfish smile spread across her features. She glanced back and spotted the other girl still keeping a wary eye on her.

The first bracket finished and Bruno Varlin’s rugged features were still to appear. Codi wasn’t sure if she should feel happy or not. On the one hand it made the possibility of reaching the final far more realistic, but on the other, if she did make it that far then who was she likely to find waiting for her? Only one name lurked in that future confrontation.

The second bracket competitors began to filter through the screens and she shoved her attempts at clairvoyance to one side. Varlin’s face appeared in the second pairing, alongside someone she didn’t recognise. Glancing around she was amazed to find that Varlin wasn’t even looking at the screen, still in conversation with his team mates. His utter contempt for the other fighters ignited a kernel of rage within her and she half turned to face him, a black look overriding her features. But before she could catch Varlin’s eye, a soft grip caught her by the arm.

“Don’t bother,” Kye whispered, pulling her back. “I know how you feel but trust me, leave him be. He wants to ignore every other fighter then let him. That way it’ll be a real shock when somebody beats him.”

Codi bristled, every fibre of her being wanting to cross the room right now and slam a clenched fist into Varlin’s carefree face, consequences be damned. But the gentle, firm grip on her left arm held her in check. Barely. Eventually she let the anger reduce to a simmer and rather than shrugged off Kye’s hand, she put her right hand over his and clasped it tightly.

She felt no qualms about embracing the comfort of his presence now, for one simple reason: he was not in her bracket for the knock out. The prospect of facing her newfound friend in combat no longer loomed like a cloud on the horizon, and as a result, she let her barrier of misanthropic anger fall. With a final effort she tore her gaze from Varlin and saw Max looking at them, but if he disapproved, his face didn’t show it. He still seemed nervous enough waiting for his own adversary to be revealed. Kye’s opponent flashed up not long after. It was a male from Battlecast named Josh Bayden that Codi dimly recalled from the tournament. Not as daunting a competitor as his team mates, but dangerous nonetheless. She looked at Kye. He cocked his head to one side, examining his opponent before giving a nonchalant shrug. And in turn he didn’t bother even glancing at the Battlecast team. She smiled at him, letting her hand fall away and shoving both into her hoody pockets.

When Max’s opponent appeared she swallowed hard. It was another Battlecast fighter, a young, strong-jawed male, part of the new, up-and-coming crop from the powerful academy. When she glanced across she saw the fighter give Max a two-fingered salute, but behind it was the smile of a predator staring hungrily at prey. Max, to his credit, simply inclined his head without a shred of emotion on his face. Only Codi noticed the sharp motion of his hands clenching into fists within the pockets of his trousers.

A few minutes later it was over. The fighters began to disperse from the room, a buzz of conversation accompanying them as they discussed opponents and tactics. Codi let out a long breath and turned to her companions.

“Well,” she began. “It could have been worse.”

“Don’t speak to soon,” Kye returned and he nodded past her. When she turned she found Varlin walking towards them, accompanied by both O’Leary and Ripple. The Battlecast fighter’s cragged face was split by a vicious smirk and he stopped in front of them, folding his hard, sinewy arms across his chest. She could see his companions exchanging dubious looks. The both knew that if Bruno wanted to pick a fight, this was not the place to do it.

Regardless, Codi stepped forward and met the cobalt gaze of her enemy. And he was the enemy: the gatekeeper, the bogeyman, the one obstacle above all else. But she refused to be intimidated, shoving their first meeting to the back of her mind.

“Problem?”

“Too bad we won’t have another go,” Varlin chuckled. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“Is that so?” she sneered back. “Why, so I don’t have to look at your ugly face again? In that case then yeah, I’d call that a blessing.”

Max opened his mouth to interject but the Battlecast fighter cut him off.

“Hah, that’s cute. Still sore about the group stage, eh?” Varlin glanced at his companions, smiling. O’Leary returned the gesture half-heartedly. To Codi’s surprise, Ripple gave him a withering look.

“Come on, Bruno, we’re wasting our time.” It was the first time Codi had heard the girl speak and her voice held a chilling undertone. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about the floating, apathetic tone unsettled her. Ripple gently pulled a loop of her stark white hair back behind her ear, her eyes passing over the group. “Save your goading for the arena.”

“Spoilsport,” Varlin muttered, and then he locked eyes with Kye. “Better hope your boyfriend goes out before the quarters. Otherwise he’s got a beating to look forward to.”

“This is what happens when you sit out of the real world for five years solid,” Kye retorted breezily. “You don’t grow up. Look at yourself. You’re twenty-one and you’re making threats like the biggest bully on the playground. Take your bullshit somewhere else, Varlin. Nobody here gives a damn.” He tugged Codi back by the arm, simultaneously motioning Max to move away with a flick of his head. “C’mon, guys, let’s leave Johnny-nutcase to go head butt a wall or something.”

“I wouldn’t fight too hard,” Varlin called after them as they turned to leave, an edge of anger slipping into his speech. “Most ‘bullies’ can’t back up their words.”

Codi kept walking, but when she glanced up at Kye’s face she found him staring straight ahead, jaw clenched tightly, anger etched upon his features. Hesitantly, she slipped her hand into his and gave what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze.