Day 94

[from Don't Say a Word]

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2041

THREE MONTHS BEFORE RYUJI'S KIDNAPPING

Shizukesa's mission today seemed like a simple one, but it had taken a lot of planning. There were two targets: Kenji Hirayama and his wife, Aoko. They were both high-level researchers at Kasaiki Corporation, said to be working on something that could turn the tide of the battle for Japan in Kasaiki's favour. Mitsukashi were not prepared to allow Kasaiki to proceed with this research, and so the Hirayamas were to be put to death.

Tonight they had booked a romantic dinner for two at a restaurant on the sixtieth floor of one of Japan's tallest multi-purpose buildings. They had booked a table right next to the floor-to-ceiling window that took up an entire wall of the restaurant, providing them with a spectacular view of Tokyo at night. It was an excellent way to celebrate Valentine's Day, albeit a day late, though booking a table for the 14th would have been impossible, even for them. So the 15th was to be the date of their deaths; at least, if Shizukesa had anything to say about it.

After a intense discussion, it had been decided that the best way to kill them both at once without anyone realizing would be with a slow-acting poison, administered while they were at the restaurant itself. To this end, Shizukesa was currently impersonating one of the restaurant's waitresses, a woman named Rika Ochida. The real Rika Ochida was sleeping peacefully in her bed at home, having been administered some strong sedatives, and would wake up the following morning with no memory at all of the previous day. If anyone did end up suspecting Rika of the murders, she would have no way of defending herself. It was a clever plan, but it was by no means foolproof.

Shizukesa knew that, as with any of the plans Mitsukashi could have put into action that day, there were a million things that could potentially go wrong. It was impossible to prepare for all of them, but she had done her best. Her handgun was strapped to her thigh as ever, hidden beneath the knee-high skirt of her waitress uniform, and beneath said uniform she was wearing a prototype skin-tight bodysuit that Mitsukashi's R&D team had been working on. Theoretically, it was completely impervious to bullets, even machine gun fire, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. It was rather stifling, as well. She'd asked Mitsukashi to incorporate a cooling system into it, and they were working on doing so, but for the time being she was hot, sweaty, and chafing a little. Having to put on a smile and mime along to her holophone's pre-recorded speech snippets wasn't exactly helping her mood.

"Are you ready to order?" said the phone, in a voice completely different to the one she usually used. Her lips moved perfectly in sync with the synthesized voice, and to most people, it would be almost impossible to tell that she wasn’t the one actually speaking them. Almost.

The Hirayamas nodded in unison, putting aside their menus. "I'll have the chicken in the white wine sauce, please," said Kenji. "And you, dear?"

"I'll have the teriyaki, please," said Aoko. Good choices for a last meal, thought Shizukesa, as she typed the order onto the tablet computer that had belonged to the real Rika. It would then be wireless transmitted to the chefs in the kitchen, and when it was done, she would be notified automatically so she could bring it out to the waiting customers. It was a much more efficient system of ordering, but Mitsukashi had still seen fit to add something a little extra to it.

As Shizukesa pressed a button, a wireless signal was sent to the holophone in her breast pocket, telling it to play one of its pre-recorded messages. "And to drink?" mimed Shizukesa.

"One bottle of chardonnay, please," said Kenji. "Make it your best. We're celebrating tonight."

Shizukesa gave the couple a sickly-sweet false smile and typed a special message just for the two of them. "Oh, is that so?" she mimed. "Well, I hope you have a very special evening tonight, then!"

Kenji nodded in appreciation of the sentiment. "Thank you," he said.

Shizukesa bowed, and retreated to the kitchen to get the chardonnay bottle as well as two champagne glasses. This was the difficult part. The couple would no doubt want to open and pour the chardonnay themselves, so she couldn't simply pour two glasses and dissolve the poison into them. She couldn't inject the poison into the bottle, either, as the tampering would be spotted, nor could she tamper with the food, as she would have no opportunity to do so. The only way was to lace the glasses themselves with the poison, in such a way that the poison would not be noticed.

To this end, Mitsukashi had synthesized a tasteless, colourless powder that would dissolve harmlessly into the chardonnay once poured over it. For three hours, it would gestate inside them, doing nothing in particular. It would then begin to cause massive internal haemorrhaging that would kill them within minutes. Synthesizing such a poison hadn't been easy, and there was only enough for one go. In any case, if something went wrong, they wouldn't be able to try the same plan twice.

When nobody was looking, Shizukesa swiftly took the tiny sachet of poison out of her breast pocket, and sprinkled the colourless powder into both of the glasses. It settled nicely in the grooves in the bottom of the glass, and was completely invisible to the naked eye. From here on in, it was out of her hands. If the attempt was discovered, or they didn't drink the chardonnay for some other reason, she would have to resort to Plan B. For now, all that remained was to take the bottle and glasses out to them.

Carrying a silver tray with the chardonnay, poisoned glasses and her tablet all balanced on it, the fake waitress returned to the Hirayamas' table. "Sorry for the wait!" she said. "Here's your chardonnay and glasses! Can I get you anything else?"

Worryingly, Kenji proceeded to pick up the glass and examine it. "These glasses don't look clean to me," he said suspiciously. "Could we get some different ones, please?"

Shizukesa tried to keep her composure, typing a message she had been rehearsing beforehand though she had hoped she wouldn't be needing it. "I'm sorry," she said. "Those are the only glasses we have right now. I can assure you that they're nice and clean."

Kenji's eyes narrowed. It was clear that for some reason, he didn't trust her. "I'm not so sure," he said.

"Darling, if she says those are the only glasses, then there's nothing we can do," said Aoko. "They look clean enough to me-"

"Could you give me a minute to speak to my wife in private, please?" asked Kenji.

Shizukesa realized that things were starting to go south, but there was nothing she could do about it, short of switching to Plan B, which she wasn't quite willing to do yet. Instead, she simply nodded and moved away to another table. As a result, she didn't hear the resulting conversation between Kenji and his wife.

"Kenji, what's going on-?" asked Aoko, confused.

Kenji motioned for his wife to whisper, reaching across the table with his other hand and clutching his wife's hand tightly. He motioned at Shizukesa, speaking in hushed tones. "Listen to me very carefully," he said. "Do you remember we were warned about that assassin named Shizukesa? The one who might come after us due to our work? Well, I'm 99% sure that's her there. The waitress. I've suspected it ever since she first came to our table." He held up one of the glasses. "Don't drink the chardonnay, and don't drink from these glasses; she's probably poisoned them. The food might be safe, but we can't take that chance. Now-"

"Wait, wait, hold on," said Aoko. "You're telling me that this waitress is Shizukesa?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," said Kenji.

"But, how did she know where we would-"

"It's whatever corporation she works for," said Kenji. "Somewhere in that massive data cloud of theirs, they found out where we'd be today, and decided to use it to take us out."

"Well, what are we gonna do?" asked Aoko, starting to panic a little. "She's going to try and kill us some other way even if we don't drink the champagne, right?"

"Relax, it's alright," said Kenji.

"How is this alright?!" hissed Aoko. "An assassin is trying to kill us!"

"Keep your voice down," said Kenji. "We don't want to start a panic. Innocent people might get hurt. Now, listen to be very carefully. We're going to get out of here. I have a gun."

"You have a what?" repeated Aoko, shocked.

"Inside my jacket," said Kenji. "I bought it on the black market, so I could protect us, in case something like this ever happened. If she tries to stop us, I'll shoot her." He squeezed his wife's hand tighter, as she stifled a gasp. "We're going to make it out of here. I promise."

Before his wife could object, Kenji took a deep breath, and called Shizukesa back over. "Excuse me!" he called out.

Shizukesa put on her best false smile and returned to the table, tablet in hand. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked.

"What did you say your name was again?" asked Kenji.

Shizukesa started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she played along regardless. "Rika Ochida," she said. "It's been a pleasure to serve you today."

Kenji smiled wryly. "Are you sure it isn't Shizukesa?" he asked.

Rumbled. Somehow - perhaps simply through sheer paranoia and dumb luck - this man had seen through her disguise. But she still had the upper hand. Her smile slipped a little, but she remained fairly composed. "Quite sure," she replied. This was, technically, the truth: Shizukesa was only an alias, after all.

Kenji's hand disappeared into his jacket pocket, and Shizukesa watched as her covertly pulled out a gun, pointed it at her under the table, and audibly cocked it, while his wife looked on in mild terror. At this point, there was no sense in keeping up the charade any longer. Shizukesa's fake smile vanished completely from her face,  replaced by her usual cold, emotionless glare. Kenji's suspicions were confirmed.

"We're going to walk out of here now," said Kenji. "Me and my wife, together. If you try to stop us, I will not hesitate to shoot you. Is that understood?"

This time Shizukesa's lips did not move. "I'm afraid I cannot allow that," she typed.

"Well then…" Kenji's finger tightened around the trigger, as he prepared to fire.

Day 93

[from Electron]

With his suit designed, and being constructed, Aaron's superhero training began in earnest. It had been found that the source of his powers was a reservoir of electrical energy deep inside him, a reservoir that not only seemed to be limitless, but could also be conducted effortlessly throughout his entire body. By projecting it out through his hands, he could fire powerful beams of electricity that he and Martin dubbed "Ion Beams", that were able to stun opponents. He could also get in close to them and grab them with an electrified hand, something they had jokingly referred to as the "Vulcan Death Grip" before settling on the more serious name of "Taser Grip".

Aaron's powers went beyond just this, however. By manipulating the electrical currents he produced, he was able to create electromagnetic fields. These fields could attract and repel any magnetic object - explaining the incident with the cars during his Awakening - and also be projected outwards in the form of a shield, to protect him from bullets. His suit would still be bulletproof, however, just in case he were ever caught off-guard.

Aaron was not a superhero yet. His suit was still being made. He was still learning to control his powers, and to use them well in a fighting environment. They had not even settled on a name yet: Aaron liked "Static", while Martin was leaning towards something like "Electro". However, he would need to finish his training soon, for elsewhere in his home state of Florida, there was a city crying out for a hero such as himself.

DOWNTOWN SILVERBURG
AROUND THAT TIME
As Titus walked, his footprints cracked the pavement beneath him, leaving a trail of foot-shaped craters in his wake. It was hard not to do this when your entire body was fused with industrial-grade steel, giving you gleaming silver skin and prodigious strength - strength that Titus, a career criminal, had decided to use to further said criminal career.

Titus (by coincidence this had been his surname prior to his Awakening) was already known and feared by Silverburg's residents, and with every loud step, frightened citizens fled before him. Only one of them dared to challenge him; a store owner who rushed out, shotgun in hand, and blasted Titus with both barrels. The pellets merely ricocheted off Titus' skin, scattering on the floor, and a moment later the supervillain was upon him. With one hand he snapped the shotgun barrel in half, and with the other delivered a blow to the chest that stopped the man's heart. The man crumpled to the floor, and by the time any help arrived, he was already dead.

Deciding there was nothing of value in the man's shop, Titus continued on to the next block and his initial target: a jewelry store. Smashing his way through the glass door, he approached the store counter and the petrified shop assistant. He placed a gleaming metallic hand on the glass display case, running his palm along it and producing a horrible scratching sound.

"I'll take these, if you don't mind," growled Titus. He drew back his hand, and punched straight through the bulletproof glass.

***

A short time later, having loaded every piece of jewelry worth stealing into a large rucksack held in his hand, Titus emerged through the shattered storefront to the sound of sirens, as a police car approached the scene. The two officers inside turned to each other as they screeched to a halt, unsure how to proceed.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" asked one. "He's made of metal!"

"I dunno," said his partner, shrugging. "Taser him, perhaps?"

"Yeah, that might work-"

Having been looking at each other they did not see Titus advance towards them. He stamped hard on the front of the car's hood, flipping it up so it stood on its front bumper, then drew back his free hand and punched the roof of the car. The car skidded backwards on its bumper at least twenty feet, sparks flying, then collided with a parked car and span and rolled back into the road, coming to a stop upside-down and severely dented. Titus strolled past the totalled police car as though it were not there, and went on his way, the rucksack full of jewelry slung over his shoulder.

Day 43

[from Street Racer]

JADE CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT

INCIDENT REPORT: DATED 12TH FEBRUARY 2015

Another major street-racing incident occurred two days ago in the industrial area of the city. After talking to witnesses and examining CCTV footage from the area, we have put together this approximate timeline of the events that occurred.

At approximately 6:13pm on February 10th 2015, an orange-and-black Nissan 350Z driven by a man believed to be known street racer Jason Diaz parked outside an industrial unit in the Bronson Flats industrial complex. He left his car and began making phone calls, and at 6:15pm, while he was still on the phone, a red-and-white Audi TT, driven by an unidentified white male in his mid-20s, parked up alongside him. The driver of the TT exited his vehicle, and after a brief conversation with Diaz, the two men both began making phone calls.

Over the next 45 minutes, a number of individuals, some of whom have been identified as known members of the street-racing scene and many of whom were driving heavily-modified imports, gathered at the location of Diaz and the unknown male. These included a female thought to be Diaz' girlfriend, Tara St. Clair, driving a green-and-white Mazda MX-5, a female who has since been identified as 23-year-old Morgan Smith, driving a blue Subaru Impreza, and a known associate of Diaz known only to the JCPD as "Bouncer", driving a yellow-and-black Ford Mustang. Investigations into Bouncer's identity are currently ongoing.

At approximately 7:01pm, those gathered at the site began to prepare for an illegal street race. Witnesses report that the race was to be three laps of a makeshift street circuit through the Bronson Flats complex. At around this time, Diaz and St. Clair were seen arguing, reportedly regarding whether or not St. Clair was to compete in the race. St. Clair was then seen briefly arguing with the driver of the Audi TT, before Diaz led her away and spoke to the man himself. The subject of their discussion is not currently known.

By 7:16pm, Diaz, Bouncer, Smith, and the red-and-white Audi driver had paid their entrance fees and lined up at the start/finish line. St. Clair stood at the roadside holding a chequered flag, alongside an unidentified Asian female using her smartphone as a stopwatch. At precisely 7:18pm, St. Clair waved the chequered flag and the race began.

Early on the first lap, the Audi driver had a minor collision with Diaz and span, leaving him several seconds behind the other racers. By the start of the second lap, Bouncer was in the lead, with Smith and Diaz shortly behind.

At some point during the second lap, as Diaz attempted to pass Smith on a straightaway, the front-left side of Diaz' car clipped the right-rear side of Smith's, causing the latter to lose control and spin at an estimated speed of 120 miles per hour. Smith's car then struck a tree at the side of the road head-on at approximately 100 miles per hour, before bouncing back into the road where it was then struck by the Audi, who had braked and swerved but been unable to avoid it. Smith is thought to have been killed immediately upon the initial impact with the tree, and was taken to hospital where she was pronounced dead on arrival. Although the Audi was also damaged significantly by the impact, the driver reportedly escaped with only minor injuries and was able to continue the race.

Once it became apparent to those present that Smith had been killed, the race was swiftly abandoned and most of those gathered had dispersed by the time the emergency services had arrived. It is thought that Diaz and Bouncer kept the prize pool for themselves despite the race's abandonment. Of the witnesses that we spoke to, two believed that Diaz' collision with Smith had been deliberate, and one also believed that his collision with the Audi driver had also been deliberate. This is consistent with several previous reports of races involving Diaz, in which he has resorted to shockingly dangerous tactics when not in the lead. Sadly, with Diaz' current whereabouts unknown, and with little or no evidence to prove that the crash was deliberate, we are unable to obtain a warrant for Diaz' arrest, although he remains wanted in connection with this and numerous other street racing incidents over the past eighteen months.

Day 29

[from Cyborg Team Alpha]

It was almost 4am by the time Gumi was finished. She staggered out of the augmentation theatre into the brightly-lit corridor, letting out a loud yawn. "Finally…" she muttered. "Finally done…"

Ryuto was sat in the corridor, waiting for her. Unlike his companion, he did not look the least bit tired. "You didn't have to stay up all night to finish it, you know," he said.

"You didn't have to stay up all night waiting for me to finish," replied Gumi, rubbing her tired eyes.

"You know I don't have a choice," said Ryuto, adjusting the black hood pulled tight around his head. With the bandana drawn over his mouth, he more closely resembled the gangs he was out to stop than anything else. "So, have you rebooted her?"

Gumi yawned again and nodded. "Yeah… it'll take a few hours for her to regain consciousness, though. I want us t… to all be there when she does…"

Another loud yawn escaped from Gumi's mouth. Ryuto heaved a metallic-sounding sigh. "Go get some sleep, Gumi," he said. "I'll watch over her for now. If she starts to wake up, I'll let you know."

Gumi nodded, let out yet another yawn, then shuffled off towards the dormitory. Ryuto stood up, and entered the room she had just left, the door closing behind him with a pneumatic hiss.

Inside, the augmentation theatre was rather cluttered despite its large size. It was filled with all manner of machinery, electronics, and computers, many of which Ryuto did not know the function of. Several brightly-coloured displays set up around the room showed the status of the figure lying in the white hospital bed, in a clearing in the centre of the room. Only two were of importance to Ryuto. One was the heart rate monitor, which showed that her heart was beating at a slow, steady rate. The other was a touch-screen computer monitor, with a simple message displayed on a pop-up on the screen: "REBOOT COMPLETE".

Ryuto could see nothing of the girl apart from the left side of her face. The right half was swathed in bandages, an oxygen mask concealed beneath them, and the rest of her body was covered by the bedsheets . He did not know what lay beneath, but he knew that it would not be pretty. Judging from the time Gumi and the professor had spend augmenting her, and what he had heard when she had first been brought in, her injuries had been both horrific and extensive, no doubt even more so than his.

For a moment, Ryuto was tempted to pull away the sheets, to unravel the bandages, to see just what had been done to this poor girl and what Gumi had had to fix. Eventually, he decided against it. He did not want to disturb anything, lest he accidentally cause the poor girl any discomfort.

Pulling up a chair, Ryuto sat down by the girl's side and began his quiet vigil. Almost without realizing, he swept back the hood of his jacket and pulled down his bandana. Much of the left side of his face, and his lower jaw, had been replaced by metal plating. Where his left ear had been, there was now a bionic ear with ten times the capability of a normal human ear. This, in a way, was his gift. Not only had he been reborn, he had been enhanced, and now it was his solemn vow to use those enhancements, and the second chance at life he had been given, to protect the country. In a few hours, when she woke up, the girl would find herself perhaps not with the same enhancements as him, but with the same life, the same fate. And unlike him, she would have others like her there to help her come to terms with it. She would not be alone.

As Ryuto spoke, his metallic jaw did not move, creating an eerie effect despite the softness of his words. "Welcome back, Ichiko St-Clare."

Day 10

[from Pokémon xTreme (name subject to change)]

It was unusual to see a sell-out crowd at Indigo Stadium just for an exhibition match. But when the match was between John McBride, one of the legends of professional Pokémon battling, and Brandon Wells, one of the sport's most promising young talents, it was perhaps understandable that there would be a lot of interest. Indeed, the match was even being broadcast live throughout the Kanto region, albeit on pay-per-view. It wasn't quite important enough for a spot on cable.

John was the first to emerge onto the field. his four chosen Pokémon strapped to his belt. He was in his sixties now, and had been battling since before Pokémon turned professional. He held numerous records, and had more experience than almost anyone else on the circuit. But he was old. His tactics, though tried and tested, were antiquated. His brain was sharp, but perhaps not as sharp as it once had been, when he decimated any opponent that stood before him. The fact he was still able to compete at such a high level, however, was testament to his determination and skill. It was a running joke that Armageddon would come and John McBride would still be there, training his Pokémon, even as the sky fell down around him.

The crowd had to wait a few minutes before Brandon entered. The complete antithesis of the plain, understated John, Brandon was the consummate showman, almost to a fault. Simply walking into the stadium was too boring of an entrance for him, and so his entrance was heralded by a blast of fire rocketing down the tunnel, before he emerged riding on the back of his Charizard, soaring into the air and performing a perfect loop-the-loop before gliding to the ground in front of a rather unimpressed John, the crowd cheering all the while.

Brandon slid off Charizard's back, recalled it to its Ultra Ball, then made his way towards the centre of the field. "Sorry about the wait," he quipped.

"If you were trying to psych me out," replied John, his voice deep and gravelly, "you'll have to try harder than that."

Their per-match posturing was interrupted by the referee, as the three of them reached the centre of the field. "Shake hands, please," she prompted. The two competitors obliged, and the referee took a coin out of her pocket. "Make your calls."

"Heads," said John immediately. The referee flipped her coin. Heads. "John sends out first," she said. "Good luck to the both of you."

"May the best man win," said John. Brandon nodded in agreement, and the two men walked back again, taking up their positions opposite each other on the field.

As per the coin flip, John would be the first to send his Pokémon out, though both men would have to select their first Pokémon at the same time, so Brandon would not be able to react to his choice straight away. John picked his fairly quickly; Brandon took his time, trying to think about the possible Pokémon John might lead with, and eventually selected one. Now he'd taken it off his belt, he couldn't put it back until it was his turn. This was it. Time to battle.

"Go, Rhyperior!" shouted John, throwing his Poke Ball.

Called it, thought Brandon. "Go, Breloom!" he shouted, throwing a Premier Ball. And, since Breloom was faster, Brandon got to move first. "Use Seed Bomb!"

"Darn it," muttered John, as the volley of seeds brought Rhyperior to its knees. If not for its Focus Sash, it would be down in one hit, but with just 1 HP it was as good as dead anyway. Fortunately, John had just the thing to take care of Breloom. He recalled the stricken Rhyperior, then plucked another ball from his belt. "Go, Blaziken!"

"Shit," muttered Brandon, as the Blaze Pokémon emerged onto the field, "I was hoping he wouldn't pick that."

Turn 2. As Blaziken was faster, it went first, and it was only about to get worse. "Blaziken," said John, "transform into Mega Blaziken!" John touched the Key Stone on his Mega Bracelet, and a multicoloured ball of light engulfed Blaziken. It swirled around for a few seconds, then burst open to reveal the transformed Mega Blaziken, flames trailing from its wrists. There was no hope for Breloom now. "Blaziken," said John, "use Blaze Kick!"

Blaziken took a run-up, then swung a blazing roundhouse kick at Breloom. It connected, and the Mushroom Pokémon was felled instantly. Brandon, muttering angrily under his breath, pulled the fainted Pokémon back and thought for a moment. Magnezone won't stand up to it, Gengar won't stand up to it… I'll gonna have to fight Fire with Fire. Or Mega with Mega.

With a flourish, Brandon plucked Charizard's Ultra Ball from his belt once more. "Go, Charizard!" he cried, hurling it into the centre of the ring to triumphant roars from the crowd. "And…transform into Mega Charizard X!"

With a touch of Brandon's own Mega Bracelet, Charizard was engulfed in a ball of light just as Blaziken had been a few moments ago. When it disappeared, Charizard had turned jet black, with blue flames erupting from its mouth. Brandon had brought out his signature Pokémon, and if anything could give Mega Blaziken a run for its money, surely the mighty fire dragon could. However, first it would have to endure an attack; Mega Blaziken's Speed Boost meant it went first this turn.

"Alright then, Brandon," said John, intrigued. "Let's see what your Charizard's made of. Blaziken, use Sky Uppercut!"

The move connected, wiping out a good half of Mega Charizard's health. But it wasn't enough to knock it out; Mega Charizard stood tall. Brandon broke out into a devilish grin. "Oh, big mistake," he said. "Two words for you, John: Earth. Quake!"

"I knew I shoulda used Protect." lamented John.

Mega Charizard stomped hard, and the entire arena began to tremble, the ground cracking beneath the fighters' feet. Mega Blaziken staggered and stumbled, and looked as though it might just weather the storm, but as the tremors started to subside it fell forwards and collapsed to the floor, fainted.

"Shit," muttered John, as he recalled his fainted Pokémon. I hope those two realize they have mics on, thought the referee, scowling.

John thought for a moment, then decided he only really had one option. "Go, Porygon-Z!" he barked, throwing another Poké Ball. Porygon-Z was slower, so it seemed it would have to weather an attack first…or perhaps not.

"Mega Charizard, use Roost!" called Brandon. Charizard landed on the cracked floor of the arena, its health restored, thought not quite to full. But while Mega Charizard had its tricks, so did Porygon-Z.

"Porygon-Z," said John, "use Tri Attack!" Tri Attack may not have been super-effective, but with STAB, Porygon-Z's Adaptability, and its held Normal Gem, it didn't need to be. The powerful tri-coloured beam hit Mega Charizard with more than enough force to knock it out, succeeding where Mega Blaziken had failed. The HP restoration had been a waste. Brandon's fans were in shock.

Brandon recalled his fallen favourite, then picked up another Ultra Ball. "Go, Magnezone!" he called. Surely the Magnet Area Pokémon would be able to weather Porygon-Z's attacks, especially since its Normal Gem was now used up. Sure enough, though Porygon-Z was again faster, this time its Tri Attack only drained a third of Magnezone's health. Now it was Brandon's turn. "Magnezone," he called, "use Thunderbolt!"

The bright bolt of electricity was not enough to knock out Porygon-Z, but it was close. One turn later, Magnezone had been reduced to a third of its HP, but the Virtual Pokémon had fallen. Now John only had one hope left. "Go, Metagross!" he called, throwing the last of his four Poke Balls. In recent years, Metagross had become one of John's signature Pokémon. It could be just what he needed to save him, and conveniently, it was just faster than Magnezone.

"Hey, Brandon!" John called out. "I got two words for you: Earth. Quake!"

Metagross stomped its foot and the already fractured arena floor ruptured even more as it shook heavily for a second time. What remained of Magnezone's health evaporated, and it fell to the floor with a clunk. "You bastard," said Brandon, though he smirked as he said it. I should've seen that coming.

Brandon was down to his last Pokémon now. He recalled the fallen Magnezone, and threw his last Ultra Ball. "Go, Gengar!" This was the final showdown; whoever was left standing at the end of this would win. Brandon had the advantage: Gengar was faster.

"Gengar," he shouted, "use Shadow Ball!"

The shadowy orb struck Metagross full-on, sending it staggering backwards despite its massive weight. It tried to hold on, to keep fighting, and John watched anxiously as the health meter on the display crept ever downwards…

Zero. The hit was simply too much for Metagross, which crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. The fans in the stadium cheered Brandon's name. The match was as good as over. Reluctantly, John pulled the fainted Pokémon back and brought out the crippled Rhyperior, ready to be put out of its misery.

"Use Shadow Ball again, Gengar!" said Brandon. Gengar obliged, and as Rhyperior fell over backwards, the match came to a close. John had fought well, but it hadn't been enough. As the two competitors recalled their last Pokémon, the referee stepped forward, raising an arm.

"And the winner is…Brandon Wells!" she declared, the stadium erupting with cheers once more. With the match over, Brandon and John made their way through the cracked terrain towards each other.

"Nice job," said John. "Thought I had you for a moment there."

"So did I," said Brandon. "Good thing I picked Gengar over Gigalith or I woulda been toast."

"You brought Gigalith?" repeated John, amused. "The hell for?"

"Stealth Rock," said Brandon. "Never leave home without it."

"Get a Tyranitar or something." Stopping opposite one another, the two shook hands once more. "Good battle," said John. "Hope to see you in Castelia next month."

"I hope you bring better Pokémon," quipped Brandon.

"Oh, I got something special lined up for Unova," said John, as they started to leave the stadium to thunderous applause. "Just you wait."

"We'll see," said Brandon. "Hey, you wanna go grab a beer?"

"Sure," said John. "You buying?"

"Hell no," said Brandon. "I won; you're buying."

John shrugged. "Well, it's not like I can't afford it. Alright, let's get outta here, then."

"Right behind ya," said Brandon. The two left the stadium together, and one by one the fans in the stands began to filter out until it was empty once more.

Day 5

[from CC BattleGrid]

"You're challenging me to a game of BattleGrid?"

Alexa smirked. Did this kid have no idea who she was? Probably not, as he seemed to be a first-year. A first-year with quite some bravado.

"That's right!" said the first-year. "And if I win, you have to go out with me!"

Alexa grinned. So that's his game. "Alright then," she said. "But if I win - and I will - you have to do everything I say for a month. Got that?"

"You're on!" said the first-year, blissfully unaware of what he was getting himself into. Before him stood Alexa Fielding, one of the top CC BattleGrid players in the entire country, despite only being seventeen and still in high school. Already a crowd had gathered round them in the grounds, anticipating a battle that would most likely be a total walkover.

Both Alexa and the first-year took out their stacks of BattleGrid chips - 25, as per the regulations - and shuffled them face-down, before sliding the first six into the special slots in their arms. This game was made possible by the CC System - a powerful cybernetic system that greatly increased the capabilities of the average human.

The CC System consisted of two parts. The main part was a computer installed in the user's non-dominant arm, with a built-in OLED touch-screen and six slots for Program Chips to be inserted. These Chips worked like the floppy discs of old computers, installing various programs, but in CC BattleGrid, they were used as slots for the player's hand. The second part was the holovisor, a holographic display worn on the left ear that wirelessly received information from the arm computer, providing audio-visual feedback via a holographically projected display. It was the pinnacle of human technology, and almost everyone who was old enough had one.

Having installed the six Chips in her arm, Alexa's holovisor whirred into life. The health display appeared in the top-right corner of her vision: as always, both players started with 10,000 Charge Points, or CP. The names of the six cards she had installed appeared on the left, numbered from 1 to 6; pressing the corresponding numbered button on the touch-screen would activate each one. Running her gaze down the list, she grinned. This will be easily.

"I'll be nice," she said, "I'll let you go first."

The first-year grinned with unwarranted confidence. "Alright! First, I activate Power Shield and Torrent Shield!" he said, pressing two buttons on his arm. These were Passive Chips, providing permanent boosts; Power Shield reduced the base damage the boy took, and Torrent Shield further reduced the effectiveness of Water-type attacks by half. Through the holovisor, Alexa saw a faint white shield surround the boy, followed by a blue watery shield; special effects, to provide a greater level of immersion. That was part of the reason for the game's popularity.

"Next," said the boy, "I activate Minor Drain!" Minor Drain was an Active Chip; only one of these could be activated per turn. Ordinarily, this would drain the opponent of 1000 CP and add it to the user's CP, leaving Alexa with 9,000 CP and her opponent with 11,000 plus two shields. But Alexa had other ideas.

"Not so fast!" said Alexa. "I activate Negation Protocol and cancel Minor Drain's effects!" Negation Protocol was a Dormant Chip, which could be triggered by an opponent's actions. In this case, it did exactly as Alexa described: it cancelled out the boy's Minor Drain. A red beam with green sparks flying from it shot out of the boy's holovisor, but an identical one flew from Alexa's to counter it and as the two beams met in mid-air they disappeared in a shower of sparks. The excited crowd edged closer.

"My turn now," remarked Alexa. "I use Ultima Firestorm!" The crowd cheered as a red holographic beam engulfed in flame shot out of the holovisor and struck the boy, causing him to flinch even though there was really nothing there. Ultima Firestorm was a powerful attack, but its strength meant it could only be used once before "burning out" and having to be replaced. In CC BattleGrid there were two ways to lose: run out of CP, or lose too many chips. As the boy's health trickled down to 6,850 CP, the Ultima Firestorm chip popped out of Alexa's CC System; she took it out, pocketing it, and replaced it with the next face-down one from her deck.

The boy, it seemed, wasn't going to be deterred. "Now it's my turn!" he said, his confidence seemingly undiminished. "I activate Blaze Strike!" Not a bad move, thought Alexa, as a holographic fireball surged towards her. But I'm still three steps ahead of you.

She activated the card she had just drawn. "I activate Perfect Reflection! Your Blaze Strike gets thrown back at you twofold!"

"What?!!" exclaimed the boy, now starting to realize the trouble he was in, as the fireball bounced off Alexa and surged back towards him at twice its original size. His Power Shield again reduced the damage slightly, but he was now down to just 3,100 CP, and now it was Alexa's turn. All it would take now was a single good attack, and as the Perfect Reflection chip burned out and popped back up from its slot, she already knew that she had the perfect attack installed with which to end it.

Sliding in the replacement chip, she grinned. "Game over, kid," she said. "I activate Ultima Overclock!"

The crowd gasped, then cheered. Ultima Overclock was the rarest, most powerful attack in the entire game. It burned out all the user's Chips in the process, but that wouldn't matter one iota at this point. Even with the first-year's Power Shield, it really was game over.

The boy cried out as he was engulfed in a giant beam of light fired from Alexa's holovisor. His shields faded away as the last of his CP was powerfully drained away. Alexa has beaten him, in only two turns, without taking any damage at all.

With the game over, both player's installed Chips popped up out of their slots, and Alexa started to stack her Chips away back inside their case. The boy did not. He just stood there, dumbfounded, trying to process the sheer comprehensiveness of his defeat. "N…no way…" he stammered.

Alexa put the last of her Chips away, then advanced on the shell-shocked boy, grinning. "I believe you remember the terms of our wager?" she asked.

"Y…yes…" said the boy.

Alexa thought for a moment. "One hundred star jumps. Now."

"What?"

"Believe me," remarked Alexa, "you could use the exercise. Hundred star jumps. Now."

As the crowd around them started to laugh, the thoroughly humiliated boy reluctantly got started on his star jumps, while Alexa strode off with a grin on her face and her head held high.