As I climb, I spot Lil sitting in the first row marked “Nius”. Her clothes are tight fitting, top cropped above her stomach, and her hair is now purple, with glitter plastered to it. Brink is in the next row marked “Rapid”. Garrett is in the row labeled “Dead Mark”. I have to step across a couple of feet before getting to an empty seat in my row. The upholstery is soft and the padding thick. The backrest comes all the way to the top of my head, so I’m able to lean back comfortably. A blank monitor is secured in the headrest of the person in front of me. Down in the center, displays hang from the ceiling just outside the spotlights allowing us to see the full extent of the metal disc and the next person rising from below.
The platform the young woman is standing on, the one I stood on, has the same intricate scrolls across its surface as the Head Master’s carriages do. The design almost looks like a laurel, a type of wreath. The disc is black, while the marks are gold. When the host steps off the device, an outer ring moves clockwise. I never even felt it move when I was standing on there. It slows as the digital display shows what the position is. The young woman is assigned “Nius”, and takes a seat next to Lil. The last participant is designated “Dead Mark”. When he takes his seat, a tile floor slides over the disc, covering it, and the host takes center position.
“Now that everyone has been placed, the next step is for the beginners to be taken to the Progression Room for scoring. Please stay in your seats and you will be lowered to an awaiting transport. Everyone else, get ready for the selection to determine who you will be fighting today.”
People around me erupt in excitement, their arms flailing above their heads. Safety straps come out from the base of the headrest, cross my chest, and secure by my thighs. My seat slides backwards a foot, then slowly descends. The air in the shaft I’m entering is much cooler than the room I’m exiting. I can’t see everyone else as a wall is in front of me, so I don’t know if their transport will be the same as mine. I come to a rest, spin around, and in front of me stands a dark skinned, older woman. Her tightly curled black hair has several strands of silver woven between them. The red pantsuit she’s wearing makes her look like a stick. She’s standing under a lone light with a carriage behind her.
“Hello, Max,” she says, assisting me out of my seat. “I’m Matron Kaniz. I’m in charge of the Looper unit here in Thrace Tower. Before we get you settled into your quarters, you will need to spend some time in the Progression Room.”
She clicks a button on a small device in her hand and the side door of the carriage swings up. She gestures for me to slide in the front row while she gets in next to me behind the wheel. The door closes and we move forward. The ride is pleasantly short. We come to a stop in front of a lift, climb aboard, and ascend. We’re the only ones on the floor when we exit. The walls are a shiny metal, just like the exterior, with colorful lights hanging from the ceiling and sconces on the walls. Between the fixtures, monitors display people dancing, partying to music that blares out from hidden speakers. Monitors that aren’t playing these scenes show colorful mosaics ebbing and flowing. The hall in front of us extends all the way to the other side of the floor.
Matron Kaniz gestures for me to follow her down the corridor on our left. We pass a large room on our right, which the Matron tells me is one of two bedrooms on the floor. At the end of the current hallway is an emergency exit, a bright red sign glowing above the door. We turn right after passing the bedroom, then turn immediately left into a smaller room. Screens cover the four walls, each showing a different type of weapon. In the center of the room is a tablet atop a thin, glass pedestal.
“In here, you’ll select the weapon you’ll be using in The Litarian Battles,” she says, stopping next to the tablet, gesturing for me to step in front of it. “The weapon you select is uniquely yours. It can never be used by anyone else, so even if you were to lose possession of it in battle, your opponent will not be able to use it against you. Also, each position has a specific type of weapon, so no two will be the same. For a Looper, yours will be a blade.” The screens around me change to various kinds of blades, differing in length, metal, and style. “Place one of your palms on the screen and you will be given a small selection of blades to choose from.”
I hesitate about touching the smooth display. I look at the scars on my hands and wonder if they’re going to inhibit the screen’s ability to select a proper blade. I press my palm against the glass, stretching my fingers out as far as possible. Green lights scan my print. A few moments later, the displays on my left change to show nine different types of blades. I’m drawn to the one in the center, a heavy knife with a short handle and forward-curving blade. It has a dark blue aura around it, almost as if it’s glowing.
“That one,” I say, pointing to the screen.
Matron Kaniz smiles. “Nice choice.” She comes up next to me, taps the side
