I follow the tablet's directions through the facility's winding corridors toward Combat Preparation Chamber 3. As I approach, I notice increased security—both human handlers and alien observers monitoring the entrance.
Inside the preparation chamber, several other enhanced humans are already being prepped for their own observation matches. The room buzzes with tense energy as technicians attach monitoring devices to combatants' bodies and handlers review final instructions.
Handler Kress approaches as I enter. "Subject 7249. Your performance metrics have attracted significant interest." He guides me to a preparation station where a technician begins attaching small sensor discs to my temples, chest, and major muscle groups.
"Your opponent today is Subject 5184, designation 'Fissure.' Geokinetic abilities—manipulation of stone and earth-based materials." Kress shows me a holographic display of a muscular man with jagged, rock-like protrusions extending from his shoulders and forearms. "Three months in facility, four previous observation victories."
The technician injects something into my arm—a clear fluid that spreads a cold sensation through my veins. "Performance enhancer," Kress explains. "Temporarily amplifies your natural abilities while allowing sponsors to better assess your full potential."
As the substance takes effect, my telekinetic awareness expands dramatically. I can sense the molecular structure of objects throughout the room with unprecedented clarity. The meditation during sleep has prepared my mind for this amplification, allowing me to maintain control where others might become overwhelmed.
"The observation arena contains various environmental features," Kress continues. "Stone columns, metal spheres, water tanks. Utilize them effectively." He lowers his voice slightly. "Remember—this is as much performance as combat. Sponsors value resourcefulness and spectacle alongside raw power."
A chime sounds, and a door at the far end of the preparation chamber slides open. Beyond it lies a short corridor leading to the observation arena—a circular space approximately fifty meters in diameter with tiered seating surrounding it. The seats are filled with alien observers of various species, their attention focused on the combat floor.
As I enter, spotlights track my movement. Opposite me, another door opens to admit my opponent—Subject 5184. "Fissure" is even more imposing in person, his body partially transformed into living stone, eyes glowing with amber energy.
A disembodied voice announces: "Observation Combat 37: Subject 7249 versus Subject 5184. Assessment parameters: Power application, tactical reasoning, adaptability, audience engagement. Combat concludes upon immobilization or tactical surrender. Lethal force prohibited during observation phase."
I take my position as the environmental features rise from the arena floor—stone pillars of various heights, metallic spheres hovering at different elevations, and transparent tanks of water positioned strategically throughout the space.
The alien sponsors watch with calculating interest from their observation pods, their attention now fixed entirely on me and my opponent.
A resonant tone sounds, signaling the start of combat.
Fissure immediately slams his fist into the ground, sending a shockwave of fractured stone racing toward me.
Even as the attack barrels toward me, I take a crucial moment to scan the alien sponsors in their observation pods. My enhanced perception allows me to rapidly categorize the various species and their reactions.
In the highest tier, I spot three tall, slender aliens with elongated skulls and six-fingered hands—members of the Shard Collective that Nova mentioned. Their attention seems clinical, dispassionate as they make notes on crystalline tablets.
To the right, several bulky forms with iridescent plating observe with predatory intensity—the Krex faction. Their massive forms shift forward whenever Fissure attacks, clearly favoring aggressive combatants.
Directly across from my entry point sits a group of luminous beings whose forms seem partially composed of light—likely Nova's sponsors, the Luminar Conclave. They watch me with particular interest, perhaps noting my connection to their current asset.
Most intriguing is a section in the middle tier occupied by humanoid aliens with scaled skin in various blue-green hues. They observe with calculated interest rather than bloodlust, their attention focused more on my tactical choices than raw power displays.
As I complete this rapid assessment, I return my focus to the battle just as Fissure's shockwave reaches me. With fluid grace, I leap upward, using telekinesis to propel myself higher than physically possible, landing atop one of the stone pillars.
The middle-tier scaled aliens lean forward slightly—clearly interested in my mobility and tactical positioning rather than simple power.
Fissure roars in frustration, slamming both fists into the ground now. Stone spikes erupt from the floor in all directions, including beneath my pillar, which begins to fracture.
As I balance atop the crumbling pillar, I extend my telekinetic awareness toward the middle tier of observers. This is risky, using my abilities to scan the aliens themselves could be detected, but the information is crucial for my strategy.
I focus first on the scaled blue-green humanoids. Their bioelectric signatures pulse with ordered patterns, suggesting highly analytical minds. Unlike the Krex's chaotic energy or the Shard Collective's cold precision, these beings radiate a balanced flow. Their neural patterns spike whenever I demonstrate control rather than raw power.
Through subtle probing, I detect technology embedded in their observation booth, devices measuring power efficiency and cognitive function rather than just combat effectiveness. These sponsors value intelligence and resource management over brute force.
The second middle-tier faction appears to be avian in nature, with feathered crests that shift colors with their emotional states. Their bioelectric signatures flare with appreciation whenever I utilize the environment rather than direct attacks. These sponsors seem to value creativity and adaptability.
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A third group catches my attention, smaller gray beings with large eyes who barely move during the fight. Their neural patterns are unlike the others, suggesting telepathic capabilities. They appear most interested when I demonstrate precise control and finesse rather than dramatic displays.
As my pillar finally collapses under Fissure's assault, I leap back, still undecided. Middle tier is fine and all, but maybe the lower tier aliens would value me more?
Fissure charges toward my position, his stone-encrusted body plowing through debris. "Stop dodging and fight!" he roars, clearly playing to the Krex sponsors who value aggression.
As I continue evading his increasingly frustrated attacks, I extend my telekinetic awareness toward the lower tiers of the observation deck. These sponsors sit closer to the arena floor, their positions reflecting their lesser status in the alien hierarchy.
The lowest tier contains a diverse mix of smaller alien species. One group particularly stands out—stocky, amphibian-like creatures with mottled skin in shades of purple and green. Their neural patterns suggest a fascination with survival rather than dominance. Each time I narrowly escape Fissure's attacks, their excitement spikes. These sponsors value endurance and resourcefulness—fighters who can withstand punishment and still prevail.
Beside them sits a faction of insectoid beings with translucent exoskeletons revealing pulsing internal organs. Their collective attention focuses intensely whenever I use the environment to my advantage. Unlike the higher-tier sponsors who value spectacle, these beings appreciate practical innovation—using available resources rather than raw power.
Most interesting is a small contingent of cybernetically enhanced aliens whose bodies are a fusion of organic and mechanical components. Their systems emit unique energy signatures that my telekinesis can detect with surprising clarity. They show particular interest whenever my movements display maximum efficiency—suggesting they value optimization of ability rather than wasteful power displays.
I turn my evasion into entertainment, making Fissure's pursuit seem almost comical. When he hurls massive stone projectiles, I redirect them with minimal telekinetic effort into spiraling orbits before letting them crash harmlessly into empty sections of the arena. The audience responds with their equivalent of appreciative murmurs.
Fissure grows increasingly aggravated, his stone armor spreading further across his body as he channels more of his geokinetic power. "Stop toying with me!" he bellows, slamming both fists into the ground and creating a massive eruption of stone spikes throughout the arena.
The cybernetically enhanced sponsors in the lower tier lean forward collectively when I respond by creating a telekinetic sphere around myself, deflecting the stone spikes with minimal energy expenditure. Their monitoring devices increase activity, clearly measuring my power efficiency.
Maybe I should appeal to them?
Wait, if they’re all about cybernetics, does that mean I’d be forced to get implants too?
As I sense the cybernetic faction's interest, I probe deeper with my telekinetic awareness, detecting the integration patterns between their organic and mechanical components. Their neural signatures reveal an unsettling truth, their sponsorship would indeed involve cybernetic 'enhancements' to their fighters. Mandatory implants to optimize and monitor performance.
Better to avoid that path. I shift my attention back to the middle-tier scaled humanoids, whose appreciation for efficient tactics doesn't come with the price of mechanical augmentation.
Fissure's rage has reached its peak. He pounds the ground with both fists, creating a massive shockwave that ripples through the entire arena. Stone pillars collapse around me as the floor buckles and cracks.
Instead of simply evading, I now execute a series of precise maneuvers designed to showcase exactly what would appeal to my chosen sponsors. With minimal telekinetic effort, I lift several of the metal spheres from around the arena and set them spinning in a complex orbital pattern around my body as I move.
When Fissure hurls a massive boulder toward me, I don't just deflect it—I precisely control its momentum, redirecting it in a perfect arc that forces him to dive aside. The scaled sponsors lean forward, their attention fully captured by my display of physics mastery rather than brute force.
Fissure roars in frustration, driving his fists into the ground again and again, sending increasingly chaotic waves of stone spikes in all directions. His strategy has devolved into pure rage—exactly what the Krex sponsors appreciate but anathema to my targeted audience.
I maintain my composed efficiency, using precisely calculated telekinetic pushes to propel myself between environmental hazards. When water spills from a damaged tank, I demonstrate fine control by suspending the liquid in mid-air, forming it into a sphere before flash-freezing it with compressed air and shattering the frozen mass toward Fissure.
The scaled humanoids' monitoring devices activate intensely as I demonstrate this creative application of fundamental principles. Their neural patterns suggest they value my problem-solving approach over simple power displays.
Fissure, now completely stone-covered and bellowing with rage, charges toward me in a final, desperate attack. Instead of a dramatic counterstrike, I execute the perfect response for my audience—a precisely targeted telekinetic pulse that disrupts his balance mid-charge, sending him tumbling into his own field of stone spikes.
As he struggles to rise, I apply carefully calculated telekinetic pressure to key points on his stone armor, finding the structural weaknesses and applying just enough force to immobilize without excessive damage or energy expenditure.
The arena falls silent as Fissure struggles against my invisible bonds, unable to move despite his tremendous strength. The victory is complete—efficient, controlled, and demonstrating tactical superiority rather than overwhelming power.
The scaled humanoids in the middle tier confer among themselves, clearly impressed by my performance. I've given them exactly what they value—intelligence applied through power rather than power for its own sake.
But something nags at me. Are they really the ones who would value me the most?
As I hold Fissure immobilized, I take one final opportunity to scan all the potential sponsors, analyzing which faction would truly value my unique abilities and serve my longer-term goals.
The scaled humanoids would offer technical development and appreciate my efficiency, but my deeper scan reveals they enforce rigid protocols on their fighters, scheduled power demonstrations with little room for independent growth.
My attention shifts to a previously overlooked faction in the mid-upper tier—beings with crystalline structures embedded in their semi-translucent bodies. Their neural patterns show intense interest specifically in my telekinetic fine control rather than just my combat application.
Probing deeper, I sense something crucial, their fighters receive significant freedom of movement within the facility. They value self-directed development rather than imposed training regimens, believing that powers evolve best when the enhanced human follows their own intuition.
This crystalline faction maintains connections to multiple research sectors—exactly the kind of access that would benefit Nova's coalition while still providing the protection of sponsorship.
Making my decision, I execute a final move precisely calibrated to catch their attention. Rather than simply maintaining my hold on Fissure, I telekinetically isolate and extract the minerals from a nearby shattered pillar, creating a complex crystalline structure that hovers momentarily before I use it to bind Fissure in a display that mirrors the aesthetic of the crystalline sponsors themselves.
Their reaction is immediate, a collective shift in posture and an increase in bioluminescence that indicates strong approval.
"Victory by immobilization: Subject 7249," announces the system as Fissure struggles against his crystalline bonds.
As handlers enter to escort us both from the arena, I catch the eye of the lead crystalline being, who makes a subtle gesture to one of the facility administrators. The connection has been established, I have definitely caught their attention.
I can only hope that I've made the right choice.
