Conscious, Conscientious

Skrili’s aim was unwavering: a simple release of the elastic weapon would provide Pang a severe injury to the face.

And yet, Pang stood unconcerned. “Really? You’re really going to shoot someone outside of a declared fight?” she asked doubtingly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Skrili told her.

Their eyes remained locked on each other for a few seconds. Deon and Phillip happened to glance at each other, but looked away uncomfortably.

Pang’s fearless smile remained. “You’re full of crap, Skrili,” she said. “Who are you kidding? There are laws against doing that, and you don’t have the guts to break them. You’ve always been a softy about that.”

Deon was impressed with how far Pang was so comfortably pushing Skrili. He was surprised she didn’t just shoot Pang on the spot. If she had been acting herself lately, he felt she probably would.

“Well, I told you I’m not giving you your bag,” Pang reminded Skrili. “So you do have to shoot me, by your standards. What are you waiting for? Just shoot me.”

Skrili released the elastic—but not until first pointing it at the ground in front of her. The powerful hair band slapped against the ground and a small wave of dirt bounced from where it made impact. Pang didn’t even blink.

“Matchups,” declared Skrili as the dust floated away. “And I’m fighting you this time.”

“Whatever you say, sugar,” Pang agreed.

~

The four fighters passed through a series of short bushes, whose branches clung and snapped as they walked. Pang and Phillip were leading the way towards a fighting spot they had used once before.

They exited the miniature forest of bushes and entered a more open, tree-dominant section of the woods. Deon watched Pang and Phillip as they walked before him. Neither seemed tense about the upcoming fight. They may as well have been on an innocent stroll together, as if they had forgotten all about Deon and Skrili.

The whole time, Pang had been holding a one-sided conversation with Phillip. She lightheartedly joked about past fights, frequently mentioning how weak their opponents had been. Pang would often ask Phillip his opinion, and when he didn’t answer—which was always—she would naturally move on to another subject.

I could learn a thing or two from her to hold a conversation with Skrili, thought Deon.

All of the sudden, Skrili seized Deon’s wrist.

Deon jumped. “What?” he asked loudly.

Skrili looked up at him sternly without a word. She slowed her walking pace, so Deon followed. Skrili waited until Pang and Phillip were out of hearing distance before she released Deon’s wrist and began walking normally again.

“It’s going to take everything in your power to keep up with Phillip,” uttered Skrili.

“I know that,” Deon told her. “But he’s an Illusionist, right? Sounds like just a lame version of Imaginers. I’ve been fighting Imaginers my whole life, I can take him.”

“Don’t be stupid, he’s far more experienced than you,” Skrili warned him. “Remember what Ashley told us, and never trust what you see. And there’s another thing…”

“Yeah?”

Skrili took a breath and continued. “Phillip has a special attack I’ve never heard of before. It’s what he used to defeat me: he causes his opponent to see flashing images and hear loud sounds that are so severe, eventually their mind can’t process it anymore and they black out.”

“What? How the heck do I avoid an attack like that?” Deon wondered.

“The attack takes time to prepare. He’ll use illusions to make you think you’re fighting him, while he’s hiding somewhere charging up the attack,” explained Skrili. “Whatever you do, don’t let him use that technique on you.”

Deon nodded.

“Are you two lovebirds almost done with your private meeting back there?” Pang called back to them. “We’re almost at the spot.”

Deon and Skrili eventually caught back up to Pang and Phillip, and by the time they did, their battleground was before them. It was a circular clearing of relatively flat land, which oddly, was covered in burnt leaves and branches. Small stumps of thin trees poked up an inch from the ground here and there.

The clearing was particularly large compared to ones Deon had previously seen. It spanned about half the size of Tailpiece. Minus the tall trees around the perimeters, there was nothing to block the rays of the late afternoon sun. As a result, the sun cast a light orange tone on the site.

“Sorry about all the burnt stuff,” Pang said. “The other day we were fighting this pyromaniac Imaginer, but he was a wimp. So I used the opportunity to make my own battleground. I manipulated his fire imagining and burnt this place down into the perfect place to fight. I know it’s a little messy, but it’s nice, don’t you think?”

Deon was surprised she hadn’t managed to burn the entire forest down pulling something like that. But while he didn’t want to admit it out loud, it did create a fair fighting ground.

“That’s right—I forgot you guys are being all grumpy,” Pang recalled after no answer came. “Well, let’s get going. Come on, Skrili. We’ll take the far side and leave this end to the boys.” She assertively began her stride across the clearing.

Skrili turned to Deon once more. “Don’t forget,” she whispered, and then she followed Pang.

It was then that something occurred to Deon: Skrili’s chances of getting the picture of her brother back depended greatly on him. If he lost to Phillip and cost her the fight, she would once again fall short of the one thing she desperately wanted.

He still didn’t get why the picture was so vital, but this was his chance to prove she could depend on him. If they won, maybe she’d agree to team up professionally.

When Pang reached the other side, she dropped her and Skrili’s bags beside her and crossed her arms, looking back at Skrili with a both friendly and sinister smile.

Skrili joined her, keeping her distance.

Pang tilted her head to the side as her golden eyes focused in on Skrili’s. “Dear, you don’t look right…have you been eating okay?”

“My problems don’t concern you,” said Skrili plainly. “They won’t make me give you any less of a fight.” She shifted into her fighting stance.

Pang’s face lit up. “Goodie,” she said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. This will be just like when we used to train together. Oh—but now I can hurt you all I want.” Pang winked, and moved into a fighting stance almost identical to Skrili’s.

“Your teammate is a brilliant fighter,” mumbled a low, quiet voice.

Deon blinked and looked over to Phillip. Like Deon, the unraveling tension between Skrili and Pang had distracted him. He was watching the girls solemnly.

“Uh…yeah,” Deon responded. “So is yours.”

Phillip nodded.

They continued to observe Skrili and Pang. The two girls silently stared each other down. Deon felt his heartbeat increasing. Both girls shifted…

…and they vanished.

Immediately, Pang and Skrili reappeared in the center of their battleground, and their hands and feet were moving so fast that it took Deon a moment to realize they were trying to punch, kick and block each other.

They’re…that fast?! Deon thought. Both facial expressions remained unchanged: Skrili appeared emotionless and Pang smiled as if this were a game.

“I’m sorry,” began Phillip, “but Skrili won’t win.” He turned his attention to Deon.

Deon looked back at Phillip. “We’ll see,” he uttered. “But we have our own fight to do.”

“Then let’s begin.”

That voice had come from directly behind Deon. He started to turn around, but was far too late. The real Phillip’s palm smashed into his back and he tumbled into the burnt leaves.

Heart racing, Deon scrambled to his feet. The illusion of Phillip he had been speaking to faded away. Deon turned to face the real one. “That was a cheap move,” he spat.

“Once one fight starts, the other one automatically begins,” Phillip explained.

“Those are the rules,” a second Phillip said directly beside Deon.

This time, Deon reacted quickly and punched the Phillip beside him—but his fist passed through. “Wait—what?” he wondered.

The Phillip in front of him dashed forward and landed a fist in Deon’s chest. Deon grunted and fell back again. Come on! He yelled in his mind. He can imitate sound, too. I guess I can’t trust my eyes or my ears.

Deon pounced to his feet. He glanced at Phillip, but also looked around warily. “Don’t get cocky,” Deon advised him. “I’ll have you figured out in no time.”

Skrili didn’t have time to think. Instinct guided her attacks and blocks, and with the speed Pang was fighting at, it would have to stay that way.

Pang let out a laugh, and then she disappeared.

Skrili immediately shifted to block behind her, and instantly Pang was there. Their arms locked as they pressed each other. Then speedily and effortlessly, Pang tugged Skrili off of her feet and slammed her against the ground. Once Skrili’s body bounced against the dirt, Pang kicked her directly in the stomach with full force. The impact sent Skrili skidding against the ground. She rolled to a stop several paces away.

“I think I have a love-hate relationship with your fighting style,” Pang told her. “I just love finally being able to fight someone again who can keep up with me…mostly. But I hate how your consciousness type sucks.”

“That’s not why you hate it,” Skrili said from the ground. She made her way to her feet as crushed black leaves rolled off her clothes. “You hate it because you’re powerless against it.”

“Pardon?”

Skrili wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek. “You never admit it, but you hate Power Rebound types because Manipulators can’t steal their powers.”

Pang’s smile faded. “Look at you, sticking up for yourself for once,” she muttered. “I’m not afraid of your stupid Power Rebound, Skrili. I can take you even when you’re powered up. All I need to do is avoid hitting your sweet little head—and that’s just what I’ll do.”

They charged at each other again.

Deon leaped and swung a kick at Phillip, but it passed through the apparent illusion. Another Phillip charged at him from the left, so he sent a fist at him—but this one vanished, as well. Then came a third one from the right. Deon went to block the potential attack, only to find this to be yet another fake.

The attacks stopped coming, so Deon took the opportunity to look around. Ten Phillips surrounded him, all standing a short distance away. Each one stared at him, waiting for him to act. Deon tried to discern if any of them looked ‘off’ somehow, but they were all perfectly identical: with their long, spiked jet-black hair, black and white clothing, and blank faces.

“Alright, quit hiding,” Deon demanded.

“Make your move,” the chorus of Phillips told him.

Deon smiled. “Alright, I will,” he said. “I’m about to show you what real Imaginers can do.” He quickly imagined ten of his leather ball attack, mentally placing each ball directly in front of each Phillip. The instant they appeared, Deon shot them at the Phillips. The balls passed through most of them, but out of the corner of his eye Deon saw one Phillip leap to the side to dodge the attack.

Got’m, he thought.

Without wasting a second, Deon faced this Phillip and imagined the wall-barrier technique he had attempted against Pang. The three black walls sunk into the dirt on both sides and behind Phillip, and a roof landed on top of them to complete the structure. While this was happening, Deon sprinted at Phillip to finish the attack.

As Deon neared the small building, another wall appeared at the opening, sealing it off and encasing Phillip.

“I won’t fall for that!” Deon called as he reached the trap. “It’s just another illusion!” Deon burst through the massless wall and swung his fist—but Phillip wasn’t there.

What? Where could he have gone? Deon wondered.

WHACK!! A foot had come swooping down and kicked him in the face. Deon fell onto his back in confusion, but then he saw Phillip propped up against the ceiling. Phillip’s long arms and legs stretched far enough for him to push against the three walls and hold himself up.

“Smart,” noted Deon aloud. Then he imagined a shoe into existence and shot it up at Phillip. Phillip grunted at the impact, losing his grip on the walls. As Deon rolled to his feet, Phillip landed stomach-first on the ground. “But not smart enough,” Deon finished. He imagined the walls, ceiling, and shoe out of existence.

Phillip stood up as the illusionary Phillips around them vanished. “You’re a little better than I expected,” he admitted softly.

Deon crossed his arms and grinned. “I’m just getting started,” he declared with confidence.

“Good,” said Phillip. “Now I’ll try some intermediate techniques on you.”

In—intermediate? Deon repeated in his mind. Does that mean he’s only been using rookie techniques on me so far? Hiding his concern, Deon sucked up more pride. “Bring it on,” he said.

Suddenly, everything Deon saw began to spin slowly. It was like he was looking at everything from underwater. Deon stumbled sideways, now finding it hard to keep his balance. What the heck? he wondered. A bird chirped in the distance, but its sound echoed and rang in Deon’s head for several extra seconds.

Phillip sprang at Deon and began to attack. Disoriented, Deon found it close to impossible to keep up with Phillip’s moves. Nearly every punch and kick that Phillip threw made direct contact.

To make matters worse, Deon’s vision was now getting blurry. Phillip began to look more like a cloud than an opponent. What’s he doing to me?! Deon wondered.

Something bashed Deon in the chest and launched him to the ground. He attempted to stand up, but by now he was so dizzy that he could hardly tell where up was. Instead, he climbed his way into in a sitting position.

“You still have a lot to learn,” Phillip’s voice echoed from no particular direction.

Everyone I fight keeps telling me that! Deon observed angrily. But there has to be some way to outmatch him!

Skrili’s fist swept across Pang’s cheek. The hit opened up Pang’s defense long enough for Skrili to send another punch into her stomach.

Pang clutched her stomach and hopped a few steps away. “Nice one,” she told Skrili. “That might even leave a bruise.”

“There are more on the way,” Skrili promised monotonously.

“No thanks,” Pang politely declined. “I think I’ll give you some bruises, now.” She darted at Skrili, and their lightning-speed duel continued. “Would you like one on the shoulder?” she teased.

Without enough time to consider whether or not that was Pang’s actual target, Skrili took a chance and made a subtle shift in her stance to guard her shoulder.

She guessed wrong: Pang smirked and slammed her knee into Skrili’s hip. Before Skrili could process the searing pain, Pang’s other knee flew into her stomach. As Skrili fell to her knees, Pang completed the combo with an elbow to Skrili’s shoulder. Skrili dropped to her side, wincing from the sting of each hit.

“Oops—I guess I should have asked you if you wanted one on your hip and stomach, too,” Pang added with a laugh.

Skrili frowned and leaped up at Pang. Their exchange of rapid attacks and blocks restarted once more, and Skrili felt her Power Rebound continue to increase her speed and strength. This pattern had become the formula of their fight: Skrili and Pang would punch, kick and parry for a while, until one would find an opening and land a hard attack or two on the other.

Every time Pang hit her down, Skrili’s Power Rebound would kick in further. And yet, to Skrili’s concern, Pang was still an equal match. Even in Skrili’s increasingly powered-up state, Pang was not only keeping up—she kept the fight perfectly even.

She’s even stronger than when we were a team, Skrili realized.

In the midst of their attacking and blocking, Skrili noticed a smirk form on Pang’s lips. Then Pang quickly repositioned and sent a fist at the side of Skrili’s head. Skrili couldn’t dodge it in time—she hadn’t expected Pang to target her head. The punch caused Skrili’s whole body to twist around. She then felt Pang’s foot strike her back, which launched her over forward. Once Skrili collided with the charred ground, she swiftly brought herself to a handstand and rolled to her feet.

Skrili refaced Pang. While her back stung and her head throbbed a bit, she was more preoccupied with Pang’s choice of attack. “I thought you were trying to avoid my head,” she reminded her.

“I know…but this back-and-forth stuff is starting to get boring,” Pang explained. “If this is gonna stay fun, we have to keep things fresh. I think it’s time we see that Concussion power-up of yours.”

Is she serious? Skrili wondered. She took a breath and entered her fighting stance. “You’re making a big mistake,” she warned.

Pang merely winked at her again, and they ran at each other once more.

Deon continued to sit in dizziness. His wavy vision had worsened and everything he heard bounced around in his brain as if he were in a deep cave.

“It won’t be long until you lose all sense of where you are,” Phillip’s low voice said all around him. “I would recommend forfeiting.”

Yeah right! Deon thought. Okay, Phillip’s an Illusionist, so he used Illusions to make me dizzy…But what if I just…Wait, that’s it!

Deon tried to ignore his hazy vision and muffled hearing, and sink deeper within his head. He pictured the fighting area as he remembered it, just before Phillip obscured his senses. As he had hoped, it appeared in his memory, unaffected by the attack.

Deon fixated his mind on this image deeper and deeper, until it was all he could think about. Then, he shot his eyes open, and pictured the image in front of his own vision. Instantly, Deon’s sight and hearing returned to normal.

“Nice try, Phillip,” Deon taunted. He sprung to his feet and faced Phillip with perfect balance.

Phillip’s long hair hid his expression. “Well done,” he said.

“It was simple, really,” explained Deon boastfully, crossing his arms and smiling. “You can’t really make me dizzy—you can only make me think I am. All I had to do was trick myself into thinking I wasn’t.”

Phillip nodded.

“But I know you’re better than that,” Deon continued.

“Hm?”

“There’s no point trying to hide it—I heard all about your special finishing attack,” said Deon. “Now there’s a real technique.”

Phillip didn’t respond for a few moments. He looked away. “It won’t be necessary today.”

Deon laughed. “Really? Well if you think you can beat me either way, you have nothing to lose. Might as well go all out,” he said.

Phillip shook his head. “You’re not worth it.”

“Oh yeah?” said Deon. “I’ll be the judge of that.”