The Warrior Mechanic

“Good job, there. Your exosuit was great.” Somebody said, from beside Cael.

This was the ginger mechanic -with the odd socks- that had designed his suit for the warrior.

“Thank you. Yours wasn’t bad yourself. It was just Kegan that brought you down a little, in my opinion.” Cael replied, with a confident tone to his voice.

“I’m sorry about him. He was a weird guy wasn't he?” The mechanic replied, rather emotively.

“There’s no need to apologise. It’s not your fault that he’s that way.” Cael replied swiftly.

There was a sense of guilt even in himself that this boy was apologising for his cousin. He certainly wasn’t at fault for his character. It was clear that his amorality was drawn internally, or likely from his snobbish parents.

Yeah, it was likely a Breckenridge curse of some sort. Many of them he imagined would act as Kegan did if they had similar talent to him.

Soon after that, Cael returned to Lazarro in the locker room, where he screamed with celebration.

“We’re actually through to the round of 2048. We’re already like in what, the top 10% or something!” Lazarro called out with happiness.

“Well, we’re like top 25%, it’s just a half multiplied a half. 1 divided by 2 to the power of 2-,”

“Yeah, whatever that means.” Lazarro replied, cutting him off.

To him, Cael was speaking a different language, and it was a language that he had no desire to hear. He left his life of studies to become a warrior for a reason.

They both just chuckled in reaction, before leaving such locker room shortly after.

Lazarro had his energy supply swapped out, and his mech was fixed, for the most part. In this match, though, the damage had reached deeper into the exosuit and some of the internals were affected. He could feel the exosuit had lost its signature smoothness, and he also had lost significant energy himself.

Now, up against even tougher competition, Lazarro would have to find even more tricks to continue competing.

However, that would be a thought for the near-future. Cael just wanted to relish his victory over Kegan. He hadn’t seen him after the fight and could tell that he silently exited the stadium with his tail between his legs.

The two fighters had their short break, but decided to both eat rather large meals to try and rejuvenate themselves.

Lazarro felt a little surprised that Cael was able to match the volume of food that he was consuming, and even outmatch it in the end.

“Did you skip breakfast or something?” Lazarro asked, watching Cael devour a fried chicken wing.

“Something like that.” He replied, still with a piece of chicken he was chewing in his mouth.

They both just laughed, as Cael continued to finish the meal that he’d bought. Taking a breath of satisfaction, both fighters were then alerted to the next set of matches that were coming.

[Lazarro Di Fonti (Cael Breckenridge) vs Horatio Valle (Ellis Alnwick)]

“Alnwick? In the Championship tournament?!” Lazarro blurted out upon seeing this.

“Who’s that?” Cael asked, clueless as to why his surname drew such a reaction from him.

“The Alnwicks? Like The Alnwick Foundation? They’re literally like a family of top mechanics in the entire country, their business even branches into neighbouring nations too.” Lazarro explained.

Cael didn’t exactly feel scared, but this was just because he had no clue who this person was. Judging from Lazarro’s reaction, though, he felt like he should be.

Well, if they were both at the same stage in the tournament -and were being matched up against each other- their skill couldn’t be drastically different, right? Additionally, the mechanic’s performance was limited by the fighter they were paired up with.

Cael felt confident, and patiently awaited the next match while Lazarro’s mind looked clouded in his lifeless gazes.

Their match wasn’t within the first set, so the two of them took the chance to just let their bodies digest the meals they had, while also taking this short break to mentally prepare themselves.

The time of their break was gone in a flash, and they were called up to head to the subsequent match.

Lazarro took in deep inhales to calm himself, before hitting his chest and raising. Even when his mind looked cluttered with intrusive thoughts, he always seemed to find a way to calm his mind.

No matter the pressure, he looked sharp and ready when it came to battle.

“Don’t worry. You’ve got this.” Cael reassured, tapping the boy on his shoulder.

Lazarro nodded back to him, before Horatio’s name was called out. He would soon need to enter the ring, and Cael swiftly headed to the stands to watch the match play out.

This time, the stands were almost filled. He struggled to find the single seat that was reserved for him as the mechanic, and the crowd was quite frankly electric.

Sitting opposite him in the stands was a... boy? He was sure of it. Even from his distance he could see he didn’t look a day over 13.

He had dirty blonde hair, and was clad in a sleek purple suit that glistened under the white lights shining above them.

The boy sat like a noble would, with one leg crossed over the other, and his hand resting on his knees. He gave infrequent, slow waves out to the crowd that looked at him as if he was royalty.

As for the seats adjacent to him, they weren’t occupied by ordinary spectators but instead, muscular, burly bodyguards clad in all-black suits that protected the boy from all angles.

That had to be the mechanic, Ellis Alnwick. Just who was he anyway, if he drew such a reaction from the crowd?

Lazarro shook off his arms, and lifted them to his body as he saw the fight would soon be underway. Even after looking at the opponent, Ellis remained totally calm and serious.

Cael’s vision was better than an ordinary human through his body being augmented by mana, but he still couldn’t seem to discern the emotions that he felt. He felt unmoved by what was happening around him.

Horatio was clad in a sleek, but burly exosuit. It would surely fit into the heavyweight category, but looked almost perfectly made. It’s military grade assembly left no gaps whatsoever, like each component and armour plate was made specifically for the user and suit.

Along with that, he had hefty powered gauntlets along with a wrist-mounted energy rifle from the looks of things.

Horatio had olive-toned skin, and stood at 6’3, towering over the likes of Lazarro – not that he was bothered by that in any way.

He shook off his arms in a similar fashion, but kept them relaxed and by his side. He simply smiled at Lazarro as the referee approached them.

“Begin!” He called out, making both fighters approach each other.

Horatio swiftly lifted his right arm and shot out a sequence of two red energy blasts. Lazarro managed to counter them with his own energy rifles, that were able to adjust themselves perfectly to meet the blasts before they could reach him.

The blasts harshly collided and exploded between them, releasing a small cloud of smoke. This obscured Lazarro’s view for a time, but it was swiftly blasted apart by Horatio’s explosive advance.

His opponent’s speed, even wearing such cumbersome equipment, was hard to react to. In a flash, his hand had already been clenched into a tight fist and was shooting right for his face.

POW!

A straight punch -enhanced by his bulky gauntlet- to the jaw knocked him back a big step, and he could feel the immediate weight of his opponent from how much he was thrown back.

Before he could return to his senses, he received another combination of attacks on his person, forcing him to the ring’s edge in mere seconds. Now, this was a strong fighter.

While he was constantly trying to run from his opponent, Horatio saw no harm in chasing after him with his arms practically by his side. Even when Lazarro tried to stop him with punches, he could evade them by moving his head out the way seamlessly.

Lazarro caught Horatio with a punch to the face, then an upwards punch that he drove into his gut. He could tell that he landed such attacks well, but Horatio didn’t seem put off by them in any major way.

All he did was give him back a glare of anger. Lazarro swiftly followed up with three energy blasts in quick succession, but none of them managed to break through the durable armour protecting his forearms.

He seemed impossible to injure with such a strong layer of metal across his body.

Lazarro then received a surprise punch, slamming his head into the ring’s edge. With his brain sent flying in his skull, it left him disoriented and prone to further attack. Horatio capitalised on this after seeing his weakening legs, and followed up with a sequence of punches.

Many of them didin’t land as Lazarro was a seasoned fighter. He knew what he had to do in this situation and that would be to turtle up and stay put, blocking and dodging as many attacks as possible.

This only kept him going so long though – he wasn’t invincible. Some punches managed to find their way through his dynamic guard, making him lose even further control over his legs and balance.

With a clear wobble, the crowd turned electric as they could see the end of the fight was near.

He grabbed Lazarro’s extended arm, only to throw him over his shoulder and throw him into the ground. With a loud thud, the fighter was left discombobulated as his head harshly hit the floor.

His eyes couldn’t stay in one place, while he almost forgot where he was for a second.

Being woken up by the referee, he looked ready to go, and lifted his hands in the form of fists to show that he was ready. However, all he could see was his waving arm in his blurry but clearing vision.

“You were out son. I’m sorry.” The referee said, trying to project his voice through the heavily animated crowd.