CS Update; The Next Level

Hey readers, been a while. I hope everyone is well. I realize it's been a while since my last update, for that I apologize for everyone waiting ever so anxiously for the next chapter to arrive. I humbly post this for you tonight with a very important update, and a plea for forgiveness.

The Control Syrium is back! I know I posted the exact same message this summer, but this time it's not just legit, it's legitimately legit. CS is back in production, but along the way I have made a crucial decision. CS is moving!

We're moving up. The story will be undergoing some major changes, as I have plans to rewrite the entire thing. The semantics are essentially the same, only a few minor differences. In a way, you could consider this board the first draft of the CS arc. May as well be straight about it, I wrote most of this story on impulse, in the heat of the moment. I didn't plan most, if any, of it. It's a habit of mine when doing, well, most of anything really. I don't think about what I do, I just do. I've never been one to plan, always a spontaneous prodigy. Well, it sounds awesome if you put it like that, but it's got its own flaws.

It was fun, but in all honesty, I look at this story, and it's not what I want out of CS. I know I can do better than this, and I am more than willing now to go the extra mile to assure this story gets the proper respect it deserves. Right now, I'm as good as I ever will be. I've taken no courses, I've received no training, everything I've learned on my own. I know I can do this, and I'm ready. I hope you are too, 'cause I can promise you lot one thing, it's gonna be intense.

I will keep this site up as a relic, but for those wanting to follow the "new" CS story, click here: http://thecontrolsyrium.blogspot.com/ Don't worry, it'll look pretty later.

I hope to see you on the new site. Godspeed you on your way.

 - Trav

We're Making a Comeback, Bitches.

Rest assured, I'm alive, so is CS. I apologize for my lack of updates as of late. Diminishing motivation prevailed, as did my real life commitments. Things have appeared to settle down for now, and I have much more time on my hands. With CS finally coming out of its planning stages, we're making an inevitable comeback! For the few readers I do have on this blog, I do not have any intentions of disappointing you. CS is coming back, bigger, better, faster, and stronger than ever.

Chapter 16 will be out shortly. I won't give a specific date (since I've been known to cut curfew on more than a few necessary occasions). Until then, be sure to keep a lookout!

Sincerely yours,
Travis Reid.

Chapter 4 - Divide and Conquer

Willy sat up from his bed, using the rails and wall as leverage. His attempt at standing up was going quite well without the crutches. While standing up didn’t instigate any trouble, walking was another matter altogether. He gently took his hand off of the wall, making a break for the door. He took his first step, grimacing with a great, whirling sensation of pain circulating through his whole leg. The pain, unusually, was quite tame, at least compared to the week prior to this. With Lara in school, that left only him at home. He made Lara promise, even swear he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She still didn’t seem to trust him, even proposing a swift pinky promise. Like it mattered, what could he do In his situation?

Oh well, he was about to find out himself.

It had been one week exactly since Sora visited Willy’s hospital room, giving him a strange syringe. Looking back, Willy realized that taking an unidentified syringe with no idea what it was probably not one of his smartest ideas. He slapped himself mentally for his foolish display (since his hands were busy), never in his life had he felt like such pitiful squander. Desperate times called for desperate measures, was his justification for the event. As foolish as that may have sounded to anyone else, to Willy it was all that mattered, him getting better. It was everything, and if so meant destroying the rest of him so he could run again, he would willingly, even gladly destroy himself.

Willy smiled in triumph, beaming with a confident, well endowed smirk that he was acknowledged for in Heretic High. His strength was returning. With no physical therapy sessions yet, not even giving enough time to fully heal from the operation, he was walking, needless to say a huge step in the right direction. His progress was overwhelmingly rapid. It was the happiest Willy had felt in two weeks.

His confident smirk was soon replaced by a shocking revelation; his knee gave out under him. Willy crashed among his own weight, groaning in pain, he bit his tongue to avoid screaming, latching on to his nearby nightstand to retain his balance, to no avail. He flipped over his lamp, crashing next to him, the bulb flickering its final moments of illumination, dimming away from underneath him. Willy rolled over on the floor, clasping his forehead with both of his hands, covering his eyes. Despite his apparently bad situation, he was smiling, even chuckling.

“It’s working,” he said, barely above a whisper. He slowly sat up, a look of satisfaction plaguing his features. “It’s really working.”

Through all of this, Willy had currently one motive to get better, and fast. No matter the cost, he had to improve himself. He was already behind from before, to that boy. The boy who single handedly, within a day’s time, shattered his school record of 100 meter rush. That wasn’t going to fly with Willy, he was not about to let that record sit. Willy’s knee had to get better, to reclaim his title, his rightful title.

Willy turned his head east, looking toward his single bedroom window, he noticed it was open… and a figure sitting upon the window sill as casually as can be. Willy’s eyes widened upon the realization of who it was.

“Who are you?”

---

“Thank you for your time. Meeting adjourned,” Lara closed her clipboard on the desk, sitting tall among the edge of the table in the student council room. The members of the council, each sitting in their respective chairs surrounding the table, nodded in appreciation of Lara, grabbing their accessories, leaving the room proudly. Lara sighed to herself, standing up from her ‘honorary’ position in the front of the classroom. With the lot of moving bodies among the school halls due to the end of last period, the students were grabbing their things from their lockers, associating with their fellow peers, and heading out for the bus stops. Being on the official student council meant a free skip to their last period, but they were still overseen and observed by an instructor. Still, the man never said a word, and never got involved in matters that he wasn’t concerned with, leaving the students to their tasks.

“Great job today, Lara,” Jesse stood next to Lara with a somewhat conceited smirk. “You practically had the council majority on their knees, admiring your large, prosperous brea-“

“Need I remind you the only reason you’re on this council is because of a favor I owed Willy?” Lara interrupted insensitively, not giving him any eye contact at all. Clearly, she was not as amused about his comment as he was. “I’d suggest watching your tone. It really wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all if I were to suspend you from the council.” She stated coldly, making her way for the exit. Jesse turned back, smiling conceitedly.

“Alright, excuse me madam. I actually just wanted to ask how Willy was doing,” Jesse cut to the point. He hadn’t even spoken to Willy since his accident. Due to Willy accepting no visitors, not even his best friend, he hadn’t seen him at all either. Lara cut her eyes back.

“He’s holding up,” Lara replied simply. “It’s been really hard on him. A guy like him is not used to being handicapped. He’ll get through it, his motivation is something really unorthodox.” Lara smiled to herself, but made visible to Jesse as well. Jesse nodded.

“Good to hear. When will he be back in school? I just got this new card the rare Utopian card at the latest auction and he has to see it,” Jesse’s eyes lit up, clenching his fists in triumph, holding the single card over his head. Lara merely looked back at him like an idiot.

“I can’t answer that,” Lara shrugged. “Whenever he’s ready, he’s ready. You know how he is.” Jesse chuckled lightheartedly, an uncommon occurrence. Most people that knew Jesse referred to him as ‘Stone Cold Jesse’, as a reference to his usual cold nature, yet his hard-ass persona he often displayed only during card games. Unlike Willy, he was a very motivated individual, but he could be when he wanted to be. He barely even took his work as a council vice president seriously, merely riding the benefit for skipping the last period of the day.

“Alright; Thanks Lara,” Jesse nodded casually, walking outside of the room. Lara watched Jesse leave, folding up her papers, stacking them within her backpack, she sighed to herself, a fairly hefty intake of fresh air symbolizing her relief. Her day was over, and like she promised Willy, she would be home right away, after she stopped by the grocery store. Picking up her cell phone, she speed dialed Willy’s number with a single click, listening in on the other line.

“I wouldn’t bother trying that,” a smooth, yet unrecognizable voice reverberated through the vacant room. Lara turned her head, cutting her eyes toward the desk with a rather spiteful scowl. The young man kicked over the chair to the main desk hastily, smirking sinisterly as her phone was disconnected. The door immediately shut, leaving only the two of them inside, with apparently no signal. She showed no signs of intimidation, only annoyance for getting in her way. Upon further speculation and glancing at the new arrival, her face twisted in a sign of irritation.

“What business do you have with me, Anthony?” Lara inquired, glaring seriously at the golden-eyed, freakazoid styled red hairdo of the eccentric looking man sitting on the desk in front of her. His eyes widened in an unhinged, yet focused gaze. He cracked a widespread smile that only further carved his eccentricity.

“Lara Willman. I’ve been stalking you around school,” he leaned closer to the desk, leaping off, landing upright on his feet, he stood in front of Lara, staring down at her, keeping his eccentric glare.

“So, you’re going to admit you’re a stalker?” Lara asked, raising a brow. Despite his antics, she didn’t find him funny at all. He was often regarded as the class clown of the senior class (aka Lara’s class). “You realize I can not only have you expelled for this… but arrested, as well?”

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna do any of that stuff to me,” Anthony leaned closer, prompting Lara to step back.

“Why wouldn’t I? From the way you’re acting now, you’re only giving me more indication to turn you in…”

“I’ll put it simple, Lara,” Anthony began. “I like you, and I want you. We can do this the easy way… or the hard way,” Anthony smoothed in, caressing her face with his hand. She smacked his hand away, glaring at him with intense hazel eyes.

“You and I aren’t going to be doing anything, any kind of way,” Lara walked by Anthony, who turned his head slightly, watching her leave. He grinned madly, gesturing with his finger behind Lara, twisting his fingers in an unorthodox pattern.

“Ahh… I didn’t want to use this trump card… but you’re being reaaally difficult,” Anthony smirked. Lara stopped, glaring back at Anthony somewhat uncaringly. “I know your secret, Lara.”

Lara continued staring at him like a dupe. “Well?”

Anthony walked up to Lara, gently grabbing her arm, much to the young woman’s protest. She attempted to snatch his arm away from her… but oddly enough, her strength couldn’t compare. He held up her arm effortlessly, even as she struggled. The girl in Heretic High, regarded for having monstrous strength and stamina, was being bested so easily by this clown?

He lightly stroked her wrist, among doing so, a matched set of round-shaped runes lit up like a matched set of decorative lights around her wrist. The sensation burned, causing her to cringe. The runes appeared white in color, pure white. Anthony’s eyes widened upon examination of this phenomenon in her body.

“You’re a war-rune user,” Anthony, for the first time, bluntly spoke up. Lara’s eyes widened, her teeth cringed, as she finally began to relax, panting slightly. The searing burns plaguing her arm diminishing, as did the appearance of the round runes as Anthony let go of her flesh. The runes that were apparent just a minute ago were gone just as quickly.

“You know about War-runes?” Lara asked, seemingly shocked. Anthony nodded.

“Yeah girl,” Anthony smiled somewhat crazily, his eyes widened with a unique ecstasy. “Studied them under my father.”

“Your… father?” Lara’s mouth fell agape. “Your surname… It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Anthony Reid. The pleasure is mine, darling tulip,” Anthony placed his hands in his pockets, leaning back lazily against a desk in front of Lara, clearly not fond of proper greetings, taking his known status lightly.

“Don’t say embarrassing stuff like that,” Lara rolled her eyes. Anthony laughed out loud heartily. “But… what exactly are War-runes, anyway? This was given to me as a gift,” she said, pointing to her wrist. Anthony observed, leaning back against the desk (practically lying upon it now) and inhaled.

“War-runes are specially crafted minerals that embed into the physical structure of organic mass. Upon fusion with living matter, the runes distribute singular compounds through DNA. This grants the wielder of a rune special ‘abilities’ that are only accessible through a successful fusion.” Anthony twisted his head, cocking his neck back during the explanation, as if bored of explaining it, as if he had done it so many times before. Lara was thoroughly interested, and finally took the creep seriously. Even if he was a creep, he was… interesting.

“Because of the unique properties of everyone’s DNA, just the same, war-rune abilities are different in every person. The power it grants to the user is based on a number of factors; physical traits and mental psyche, for example, different for every person.” Anthony shrugged.

Lara looked down, her body somewhat shaken up. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Never in her life would she imagine she would meet another war-rune user. She had heard they were so rare, meeting another one, in her school, was big, grand news.

“Where did these runes come from? What’s their origin?” Lara asked. She didn’t want to play 20 questions with him, but she felt she had to know this. Anthony looked up, and shrugged.

“I’m not entirely sure on that. No one knows, not even the man himself, my brilliant father,” Anthony replied with a sardonic tongue. Anthony sat up, resting his arms on his knees, his head cocked to the side, staring at Lara through the windows to her soul, piercing straight through. She felt as if she were a prisoner to him already, so reserved, she hated feeling like that. She didn’t like him, at all. His vibe he gave off was extremely unorthodox as well, an unpredictable nature about him. Being the son of a legendary, worldwide famed genius who was known to ‘act out’, that would come as less of a surprise being a hereditary trait. He certain had the deranged look nailed.

“What do you want with me?” Lara stepped up, her eyes narrowed, she glared back at Anthony with a fierce resolve. Anthony’s lips carved into a one sided grin, his eyes widened in response.

“I told you. I want you,” Anthony repeated, leaning closer to her, staring gallantly, dominantly into her eyes. Lara clenched her fist, pushing Anthony back, he barely caught his balance along the edge of the desk, lifting himself back up to balance, he appeared virtually unphased, and incredibly amused. “I guess I didn’t make myself clear earlier…” Anthony said slowly, his glare becoming more menacing and concentrated. His pupils shrunk as his face twisted in a livid expression. “I wasn’t offering you a choice.”

Lara charged forward, grabbing Anthony by the collar, yanking him to her face, where she stared him dead on, challenging him where he stood. “Get the hell away from me,” Lara pulled back her fist, gritting her teeth. Anthony smirked deviously as Lara pulled back her fist full throttle, pummeling Anthony straight across his face. Anthony’s body flipped and curled, crashing among the desks, creating not only a loud commotion, but also a large hole in the wall, where Anthony’s head was lodged.

“I see you’re choosing the hard way…” Anthony forcefully pulled his head out of the wall, white excess among his face. Anthony stood up, wiping it off, and grinned madly. “Listen to me, Lara…” Anthony began. Lara glared ahead. “This power… you love it, it’s great and all… but it carries a burden. You can never remove them, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered. You gotta fit in like that with the rest of your life, knowing that you’re different. In a society that typically employs the approach of ‘politically correct’, being different may as well be a crime. You’re required to be normal, or you’re hated for the rest of your life for being different. No one will treasure you for who you are, you’ll be alone, sad, lead to depression… which could ignite rapidly. Unless… you have someone like you, who understands you and treasures you for who you are.” Anthony lifted up his hand. “Join me, join us, join Nebelion!”

Lara stepped back, somewhat startled. She hadn’t expected this sort of speech. It may as well have been psychological warfare, but either way, she knew where she belonged, and she was not about to change her side, especially for her brother. “I’d rather be where I know I belong,” Lara said calmly and rationally. Anthony looked on. “I don’t know what this Nebelion is… but I can’t accept your offer. I will remain here.”

Anthony frowned, disappointed. “The perfect world… you can really turn that down so casually? What else do you want, Lara Willman?”

Lara looked on with a fierce content, the answer was painfully obvious to her. “There’s people here who need me, who care about me. They don’t know about the real me but… who cares? As long as they don’t know, no harm will befall anyone close to me.”

Anthony tapped his cheek playfully with a playful gesture. “Well well, I suppose I see… in that case, I suppose I will have no choice but to destroy every attachment… burden you have in this world, with my own hands.” Anthony stared darkly at Lara.

Lara’s eyes widened with a furious glaze. Anthony had just made the wrong turn, and he was about to regret what he said wholeheartedly. “You can threaten me all you want to. You can even pick on me and call me names, even spit on me… I can laugh that off. But I won’t tolerate anyone who picks on those dearest to me! I’ll kick your ass to Kingdom Come!”

Anthony cocked back his head, accepting Lara’s challenge head on. “You’re coming with me, my dear Lara.”

“Not in this lifetime!”

---

“You- how did you find my house?!” Willy exclaimed, standing up, somewhat unconsciously, as he had no idea what he was doing at the moment. Upon the meeting at the window sill, the figure jumped down, standing somewhat sluggishly, carrying him in an undignified manner. His blonde hair smoothly brushed along his head. He wore a golden-trimmed coat with metallic strides along the shoulders.

“Your window was open,” the man replied, gesturing toward the window. Willy felt the fumes burn in his head as the man toyed with him.

“Because you opened it!”

“Right,” he replied hysterically, as if shocked himself he discovered this for the first time. “My name is Zeru. I’ve been wanting to meet you for quite some time. It’s a pleasure, Jon Willman.”

Willy stared up at the mysterious man with baffled eyes. Looking into Zeru’s eyes, he couldn’t even paint a picture of the man, despite looking directly at him. As if he was entirely an enigma, nothing remained on the outside. It was strange, and Willy couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that threw him off. He gave him a feeling of restlessness. The fact he knew his name, his full name, was even more impressive. Hardly anyone knew his full name, even the teachers referred to him merely as “Willy”. It was just his trademark.

“Ah, you’re standing? That’s quite fascinating!” Zeru acknowledged vigorously, throwing up the peace sign. “You’re getting stronger. Rock on, Jonny-boy.”

“Who the hell are you?” Willy stood up, conspicuously gazing at him. Zeru laughed with gusto, enjoying the situation for all it was worth.

“Heh, you really are a character,” Zeru looked down on Willy as a form of superiority, which was something Willy utterly resented, the feeling of being looked down upon, not recognized for what he was worth. “You should be careful just how you address your superiors, little boy,” Zeru cocked his head back, caressing his hands along his face as an indication of pre-eminence.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, barging into my house,” Willy glared head on, standing straight up, he felt a jolt of pain emit throughout his leg, which was easily subsided… much quicker than he had anticipated. Willy’s eyes widened in shock. My leg… what’s going on? It feels… so much better… great, even…

“Looks like the CPES syringe is taking effect,” Zeru walked closer to Willy, standing at over 6’2, he was clearly much taller than Willy. Willy looked up at him. “It’s a rather fast performing drug, eh? Really gets the job done in a jiffy. You must be feeling… overwhelmed, indulged with power beyond even your own dreams.”

“Wha-what the hell?” Willy staggered. “How do you know so much?”

“Well, you were visited by my mistress, right?” Zeru inquired, his bright, emerald eyes gleaming with a positive glimmer. “She was acting under my request.” Willy instantly flashed back to memories of Sora visiting his room a week ago today. Injecting him with the syringe. ‘This is everything to you.’

“You… you did this to me?” Willy looked in wonder, truly shocked at this discovery. Zeru nodded enthusiastically.

“I did,” Zeru sincerely stared. He seemed trustworthy enough, but his actions were still apprehensive, at the least, and really random.

“Why?” was all Willy could ask. “Why did you choose me?”

Zeru paused for a minute, as if contemplating the question. “Well… I would have to say, probably because of your ambitious, resolute temperament. See… there’s a pretty grave secret about this city. It’s really scaaary,” Zeru over acted, waving his hands among the air like a ghoul. Willy remained unamused. Zeru cleared his throat and continued. “In order to control this injection; one must have an absolute will. Your resolve to live is… really quite extraordinary, even among humanity. I haven’t felt such a strong will in normal humans. You’re really quite unique, you know.”

“I feel strange taking such compliments from a stranger… but thanks I guess,” Willy sighed. “So what are you doing here now? Observing your little experiment?” Willy asked sarcastically, and somewhat bitterly. Zeru nodded.

“Exactly. You seem to be doing well. But I feel I should tell you…” Zeru began. “You’re the second test subject that has been injected with this serum. The other two are people close to you. Really close, actually. I just wonder, which of you will survive… and be the last to stand.”

At this point, Zeru had lost Willy, but determining from his tone, this all appeared to be a game to him. He had to have an ulterior motive behind these actions. It all seemed so… obscure.

“I won’t let you have your way with us,” Willy stood up, facing Zeru. Zeru looked on amusingly, cracking an innocent appearing smile. Willy narrowed his eyes and glared, taking up a stance. His pupils dilated, his soul burned with a simple desire to punch this man through the wall. Where this impulse had gone, it run through his veins, taking him over, as if, like when he lost himself to ‘the zone’, his primal instincts would take over… this was exactly like that now.

Willy charged forward, kicking off of his good leg, straight-up punching Zeru across the face. Zeru’s face twisted upon the impact, his flesh flipped up and distorted from the collision with Willy’s fist. Willy glared on, his eyes widened with an intense resolve, watching Zeru crash course through the house. As the smoke cleared, Willy walked forward, his leg still sore, but at this point, walking on it was a cakewalk. Willy clenched his fists, his muscles bulged within his arms. He flexed his muscles, observing his muscles, and more excited by his physical strength. This had to be a dream… wasn’t it? No way this could be real… he felt fine, better than he ever had, actually, minus a little leg sore. It was… amazing.

He clenched his head, still unsure of where exactly he got the impulse to strike Zeru. It came out of nowhere.

“Still confused, I see,” Zeru’s voice startled Willy from behind. Willy looked back quickly, on guard, seeing that Zeru was completely unguarded, full of openings… yet he wasn’t even scratched from the previous attack. What the hell? And how did he end up behind Willy at such impeccable speed?

“I’ll take this as a token of your appreciation, Willy. All I ask in return…” Zeru began. “The elimination of Sidian Shamal. That’s all.”

Willy’s eyes widened gravely. “S-Sidian? Why Sidian?”

“Hehe,” Zeru turned back around, flaunting his golden cape among his body. In doing so, his body swirled in a mass distorted of the fabric of space and time. Willy watched with amazement as Zeru instantly teleported himself outside with a trendy dimensional rift. “It’s already starting, Willy. What we carve now… will surely be one for the books. Assuming there is anyone left to write them.”

Willy stood, leaning against the wall. He looked on, averting his gaze down to the ground. He was still so confused… but Zeru, the man who created him, ordered him to take down Sidian? His rival from the beginning of their first meeting? The man he hated, yet also admired? Zeru also mentioned secrets of Heretic City. What the hell was he talking about? Willy wanted to ask so many things… and yet. He lost himself.

“I… I will do what I must,” Willy said. “But… I can’t kill another man… if you’re listening Zeru… I refuse your offer. I will find my own way… and beat Sidian, my own way!”

Willy proudly closed his eyes, happy with his immediate, newly developed resolve, and drifted into a sound slumber.

Chapter 3 - The Syringe

Willy awoke. The lights in the room slowly began to cascade into focus. His eyes wandered vigilantly, yet lazily in a dozy spectrum. Rubbing his hand against his head, he sat up in the bed. He then felt the sheets. Much more shallow than his normal bed sheets at home. It was then he knew that he was at an unfamiliar place. He hadn’t noticed the pure white painted room he was inside first, before noticing by a sense of feel that he was in the wrong bed.

“You’re awake, I see,” the female nurse walked in the room, dressed in the standard white outfit, a clipboard in hand. She sauntered toward Willy’s bedside. After taking his temperature, pulse, and respiration, she smiled delightfully, leaving the room in a seemingly trance. Willy eyed her curiously before leaning back in his bed. She said nothing more, he didn’t ask. Why he didn’t ask, he wasn’t entirely sure. He was probably just afraid of the answer.

Willy couldn’t possibly grasp his situation right now. The last thing he even remembered was his bout with Sidian in the fundraiser race, in front of the whole school. He was humiliated! More than that, he lost! Willy clenched his fists and sheets, clenching his teeth, the veins in his head bulged.

“That bastard… he got me!” Willy exclaimed, making no attempt at hiding his frustration. For once in his life, one of the rare occurrences, he lost what little of his rationality he was holding onto. He yanked the sheets off of his bed, throwing them on the floor. He clutched his pillow, just glaring at it with the most horrible, tender eyes. He narrowed his eyes, burying his face into his pillow, compressing it against his face for a few seconds before calming down, steadily releasing his grip under a few calmer breaths. He glanced over to the door, seeing a lone figure standing inside, a feminine one, silver flowing hair, hazel eyes that matched Willy’s in intensity. She folded her arms, looking at Willy as what he mistook as pity.

She said nothing, only sighing at the pathetic sight she seen her younger brother in. She understood more than anyone in the world how stubborn and persistent he was. Once he had his mind set on something, even she couldn’t bring him back, even if she kicked his ass a hundred times over.

“It hurts,” Willy finally said, breaking the silence with a grainy tenor. Lara leaned her head down, cutting her eyes up to face Willy, not moving from her initial spot.

“Your leg?” Lara inquired.

Willy shook his head. Lara turned her head away for a second, looking down the open hallway. Upon examining the outside hall, she gently closed the door to the room. She further approached Willy’s bedside, smoothly placing her hand among the side rails. Willy continued looking forward, avoiding eye contact with his sister.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Lara said with a smile. Willy took a while to respond, leaning back he folded his arms while leaning back.

“I lost,” Willy stated bitterly. “He made me look like a fool.”

“Honestly Willy, you say the strangest things,” Lara lightly chuckled. Willy looked up once more, clearly not amused.

“Meaning?”

“People were astounded by your performance, you and Sidian.”

“What does that matter?” Willy asked, gritting his teeth. “In the end, I’m the loser. I lost to him. That’s all that matters. He showed me up.”

Lara closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before continuing. “You did your best.” She reopened them, staring at Willy with the most passionate eyes he had seen in his life. One thing about Lara, she was an awful liar. You could see it in her eyes when she lied. She was honestly the most sincere person he knew. Right now, she was speaking from the heart. Willy was too stubborn to see through to that.

Willy scoffed, folding his arms with resent, a large scowl upon his face. “A loser is a loser, a winner is a winner. Winners get more recognition, winners get ahead in life. Winners are leaders. I have dreams of going into the NBA. If I’m gonna make that a reality, I have to be top notch! Even you understand this, right Lara?”

Lara turned away from Willy for a split second, turning her back to him to walk out of the room. She glanced back with a genuine smile. “A real winner knows when to accept defeat. Losing is what molds winners, Willy. It’s our experience, and it’s what builds the foundation for our sportsmanship.” Willy’s eyes widened lightly, yet his face still twisted in an angry scoff. “If you want to go to the big leagues, you have to understand that more than anything else.”

Willy remained calm, staring out at open space, lost in thought. Had he been so obsessed with winning, he lost his sense of sportsmanship? Just as Dew said the other day, he was a loser. His friends appeared to be slipping away. He sat up in his bed, staring at the door as it creaked open once more. Lara stood back, the white coated doctor walked in the room, clipboard between his right arm and side, eyes closed, he pushed up his glasses with his index and middle finger. He approached the corner of the room, eyeing Willy.

“Doctor Norton,” Lara greeted from the other side of the room politely. He waved a short gesture with a curt nod before turning to his patient, Willy.

“Good to see you awake, Willy.” Doctor Norton spoke professionally in a British accent, a man one could easily rely on. Willy could tell that about him at a glance, as could Lara. “You took quite a nasty fall there. How you holding up?”

Willy looked up, nodding slowly. “I’m fine,” he replied simply.

“Good, good. Well Willy, I’m not going to mince words with you boy.” The doctor glanced on seriously. Willy’s eyes perked up slightly, his mouth somewhat agape. Lara stared on inquisitively.

“Your anterior cruciate ligament is torn. In other words, a torn ACL.”

Willy looked up in shock, his eyes completely widened, his mouth agape. Lara’s reaction was virtually the same, although much less severe than Willy’s case. His whole body shook from the news. It couldn’t be true. He had heard of torn ACLs before, nothing he heard was anything short of awful.

“I would recommend reconstruction surgery, due to the severity of the tear. The ligament is completely torn; therefore it will not heal on its own. After that an extensive period of rehabilitation to regain proper function of the knee again. The chances of you regaining full strength in that knee, due to the severity of the injury, is very unlikely.”

Willy sat still, not even knowing how to react. He simply glared up at Doctor Norton. “… No… there has to be another way! Isn’t there like… some drug you can give me? Don’t athletes get them all the time?!” Willy exclaimed, on the verge of freaking out. The news still hadn’t even fully settled with him. Lara clutched her hands together across her chest and looked down solemnly.

Doctor Norton looked on rather apathetically to Willy. “If you’re lucky, you may be able to return as good as new. Although, you’re looking up at at least nine months of recovery.”

“Come on… don’t say that…” Willy said, laughing slightly. Now into the denial phase. “It… it can’t be over! This is everything to me!”

The doctor merely shook his head, walking out of the room, passing by Lara on the way out. Lara gestured to the doctor. “Thank you, Doctor Norton.” The doctor merely nodded in return and left, closing the door behind them.

Merely seconds after he left, Willy’s shaking hand clutched the right side of his forehead, over his right eye. Tears began to well up in his left, uncovered eye. He fought with all of his might not to do this. Even watching Willy swelled up Lara herself inside. She watched, looking down at her beloved, heartbroken brother with the most somber eyes.

“…It’s over… isn’t it?” Willy’s voice became raspier, his throat scratchy. He let the waterworks fall. Lara leaned down across the hospital bed, embracing him by his shoulders. She was there for him; it was the best thing she believed she could have done for him. She couldn’t personally imagine how he felt right now. An inspirational speech at this moment wasn’t hitting on the right timing this round. Together, she intended to be there with her only brother in the world.

---

A week had passed since the news had passed on Willy’s condition, and exactly five days after the surgery. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything Willy had fought in his life. He had to sleep in one position, with the inability to move his knee, and he spent most of his time laid in his bed. Watching the ceiling and ESPN was his main pastime. During this period, he was unusually silent, only speaking unless personally addressed, and only speaking to Lara, accepting no visitors or get-well cards, anything of the like that reminded him as a form of pity. He missed school, Lara taking the iniative to hand him his homework and personally tutor him (which she was pretty good at doing. Then again, there wasn’t much Lara couldn’t do, except cook). He mainly folded his arms and dazed off, his mind elsewhere.

In spite of the situation, Willy found it odd there was a guy he blamed more on the incident rather than himself. Perhaps it was a cop-out to blame this ‘accident’ on the intentional actions of another within the race, but he didn’t care, it made him feel better. In his condition, he didn’t honestly care if he was being a jerk. Seeing his first visitor that day, all of those feelings suddenly bulged up inside of him, consuming him in a fiery wrath that could barely be contained, except by a bandaged up leg and a crutch that was hidden by Lara incase he did intentionally intend to strike poor Dew with it.

“Willy-man!” Dew entered the room, accompanied by Lara from behind. Willy scowled ahead, looking at the wall, paying no mind to Dew at first. “Been a while dude. How you been holding up?” Dew asked, before even waiting for a response, he approached Willy, which Willy responded with an immediate upward scowl. Dew cocked his head back slightly, a ‘what’s your deal?’ look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Willy asked with squinted, unappreciated eyes. Dew looked back, somewhat bewildered by Willy’s sudden demeanor. Of course he wouldn’t understand the psychological impact of Willy’s pain the last week, but what was this about? Had he done something?

“I came to wish you well, my man,” Dew replied with a frothy manner, attempting to slice through the thick, superfluous tension thickening the atmosphere. “Wh-what’s wrong with you?”

“You wouldn’t know, man. Why are you here acting like everything is cool?” Willy lowered his head, shifting his eyes to face Dew’s with a headstrong glare, an esteemed glare that was a clear declaration of resent. Dew, obviously, had no idea what was going on.

“I’m not following you,” Dew said, chuckling lightly, rubbing the back of his head. “What’s wrong with you, man?”

“It’s all your fault! You ruined everything! My career, my ambitions, my life! I have nothing left, all because you tripped me at the race!”

Dew stared down wide eyed at Willy, in apparent disbelief. “You’re blaming me for an accident? What the hell is your problem?” Dew asked, his tone gaining a pristine callousness. Willy glared fiercely at Dew, the latter whom returned with a ferocious stare of his own. Even right now, Willy didn’t back down, despite never seeing this side of Dew before. Dew never even shown this side of his personality to Willy, his apparent best friend. The strains were on now. “It was an accident; simple as that. Why are you making a federal case out of this?”

“My problem? Look at me!” Willy exclaimed, no longer able to simply hold it in. He had held it in for so long, he needed release. “That’s easy for you to say! You weren’t the one who snapped your knee because a lard ass tumbled along your merry way. It was ‘cause of you I lost the race. You made me look like an idiot, like a loser. Exactly like you called it the other day. I hope you’re satisfied now, ‘cause you’ve taken everything from me.”

“It was an accident. But… let me assure you one thing buddy…” Dew’s hair covered his face, shadowing his immense expression. He smiled slowly, clenching his fist, he grabbed Willy by the collar of his shirt, thrusting him up to his face. Willy sprawled in pain as his knee was also forcefully jerked from underneath his encased pillows. He bit his lip, attempting to hide the pain. “This isn’t.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking to me like that, you little punk.” Dew grinned wildly, pulling his other fist back behind him, tightening it to smash against Willy’s face.

“It’s about time someone shut your feeble punk ass up… you got any idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this?!” Dew exclaimed, his grip tightened, clutching Willy’s collar by his throat. He gagged, attempting to fight Dew away… but to his surprise, Dew’s strength was extraordinary. Willy’s eyes widened in dismay, yet remained vigilant and headstrong.

“If that will make you feel like the better man… if you wanna insult my any farther, go ahead and do it! Prove to me how much of a coward you are!” Willy shrieked with all of his vocal strength, his face twisting into a ferocious glower. Dew smiled, his eyes then looked down at Willy, the look of a victor.

“Just like a winner is born a winner… a loser is born a loser! That’s just how shit works son!” Dew launched his fist forward in a blazing might. As Willy braced himself for the worst, in no physical condition to evade the blow, he waited, closing his eyes for the trajectory which never came. Willy slowly opened his eyes as a slight narrow, extending them upon the realization Dew’s hand was caught.

Willy heard Dew’s grunts as he attempted to fight his fist free from Lara’s quick, strong grip. Lara’s hazel eyes stared critically into Dew’s, looking for the faintest sign of weakness. Dew smiled, jolting his hand away, even forcefully, and stood back. Lara staggered slightly by Dew’s sudden burst of strength, that even long surpassed hers. She stared seriously at Dew.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Dew nodded slowly, glaring at them both with a twisted smile. “Yeah. You’re right. See you later, Willy-man.” Dew waved, walking out of the room as if nothing had happened at all. Lara sighed, turning to Willy, who to her surprise, was genuinely taken aback. He had spoken his mind, but he certainly didn’t expect this kind of retaliation to Dew. Had he really felt that way about Willy, his supposed best friend, for this long? Willy looked away.

He felt he was slipping away, and losing everything.

---

Willy sat in the hospital room, time for his one week check up after his surgery. Lara stood within the room with him, observing the various posters and props within the room. She took innate interest in an anatomy of the human muscles chart. Lara always stated one of her primary goals was to become a surgeon. She often studied under the doctors at the hospital there during her free time. With Lara’s busy schedule, she and Willy rarely actually seen each other, only on account of Willy’s accident were the two strung together so closely once again.

The nurse walked inside, same one as a week ago, the rather eerily creepy nurse with the strange uplifting smile, every bit of an oxymoron as it was. Lara stepped back, turning around, she greeted the nurse with a friendly gesture. The nurse simply smiled back with the same eerie, unwavering beam.

“Would you mind leaving the room for a moment, Lara?”

Lara glimpsed up, staring with an inquisitive eye at the nurse. She crept him out about as much as Willy, but hers was more along the lines of suspicion. She decided not to raise a case among the scenario, and complied. Lara slowly nodded with a gracious smile, showing herself the exit of the room, she gently shut the door.

The nurse gaped down at Willy, a gratifying smirk plastered among her face he couldn’t quite decipher himself. She slowly flicked the loose strands of goldenrod hair out of her face before commencing. What she was about to say completely caught him off guard.

“You’re in pain… that breaks my heart. Such a healthy young man with the ambitions to take on the world. A tragic robbery.” She spoke calmly, a rather cold chill to her words that sent a small shiver down Willy’s spine. He wiped his hand across his face, attempting to hide the fact he had shed tears before her entrance.

“Why do you care?” Willy asked with an impromptus sudden jolt of his hands. He looked away from the female nurse with certain distaste about her.

“I can make the pain diminish.”

Perhaps she was taking advantage of Willy’s desperate nature, but he didn’t care. If it was an opportunity, he would take anything and everything. Willy perked up, staring at the woman with a severe wide gaped stare.

“I’m listening.”

The nurse pulled out a syringe from within her white coat pocket on the inside. Willy appeared dumbfounded, waiting for the nurse’s next response. Her face twisted into a look of dominance.

“Will you comply, Willy?”

Willy would have stood back if he could, but being confined to the bed he simply nodded slowly, somewhat reluctantly. “"You can really fix me?"” He thought, saying it aloud. The nurse nodded in compliance. Willy's gaze averted down over his body, looking at his perplexed, weakened state. He hated this. More than that, he hated the two people he felt were responsible for his downfall. Willy finally nodded. "Whatever it takes."

“Hold still,” she creepily stood next to him, straightening the needle before injecting Willy in his arm. Willy felt a short jolt of stinging pain before it subsided completely. He groaned. Compared to the pain he had endured the last week this was nothing. If this little sting injection was all it took to make Willy’s recovery that much faster, it would be well worth it. The nurse smiled, putting the needle away, and began walking out.

“What was that syringe?” Willy asked before she left. She stopped, didn’t turn around.

“This will be everything. The bridge you are to cross from this day on is crafted by a shift of fate. Remember me... Willy.” She began, looking back at Willy with somewhat deranged, lustful eyes. What she lusted after, Willy had no idea. Maybe it was his satisfaction, but that seemed really strange. She was strange either way. "For my name is Sora."


The nurse, 'Sora', left the room, leaving only a bewildered Willy watching her leave. He stared at the doorway for a long minute before turning back in his bed, adjusting his leg.

SC-Trigram; Chapter 2 - Race Against the Machine

It was just a broken record. One boy had surpassed Willy’s previous record of the 50 and 100 meter dash. To Willy, that was a big deal. A huge deal. He had been beat, he had lost. He couldn’t accept losing, losing meant failure. Where there was failure, there was room for improvement. Yes, Willy was a crazed, nearly obsessed perfectionist. It was his life, it was what he did.

He felt stomped on, trampled to the ground. He couldn’t let that go on, he wouldn’t feel right until he at least tried to retain the record. If Sidian did it so easily, he had no reason to believe he couldn’t either, he knew he could. Unlike some people, when they were beaten, they may get discouraged, that was motivation for Willy.

Willy took the initiative to train. At his current pace, he knew he couldn’t beat Sid. He ran around the block, the entire 30 block the rest of that day, nearly overtaxing himself, to the point Willy’s older sister lectured him about his well being, demanding he take at least two days for rest and rejuvenation.

Three hours later, Willy was sprawled across the concrete sidewalk, scrapping his knee while tripping over a fracture in the cement. His right knee, scrapped pretty badly, was treated by his sister. Willy, once again, claimed he was fine, and continued to move on, continuing his training to ultimately beat Sid and claim back his record.

---

Willy arrived at school later than usual, walking slowly among the sidewalk, his leg nearly giving out along the way from beneath him. He attempted not to falter or show signs of weakness that was the last thing he wanted to do, show or demonstrate to anyone he was weak. Upholding the strongest title in the school for the century, he had way too much at stake. It was probably him over thinking things, but he couldn’t take any chances, and would leave nothing to falter. Above all else, he refused to give Sid the satisfaction of seeing him ‘lose.’ He felt he was watching him, he knew he was watching him.

Willy walked down the hallway after 2^nd period. The bells rang in a resonance over the school that echoed in Willy’s head. In 3^rd period, next period, would be U.S. History I, which he wasn’t looking forward to. He wasn’t as angry with Dew, but he really didn’t feel like talking to him. Knowing Dew, he would only make Willy feel worse by rubbing it in his face that his records were beat. Dew was that type of guy, he never could keep quiet about anything. Willy knew that if he knew, he would never let him forget; constantly reminding him and laying out a list of all of the reasons he sucks. It wasn’t entirely like that in actuality, but it may as well have been.

Willy arrived in History class, continuing on to the American Revolution. Willy didn’t particularly care too much, in fact he intended on taking yet another nap in class. As he laid his head down to rest, a rather obnoxious presence loomed over him, slapping his desk. Willy wasn’t startled, only annoyed. He glared up at Dew with a hefty scowl.

“’Sup my man?” Dew said, speaking casually as if nothing had happened yesterday. Dew was like that.

“You know, thinking,” Willy said, resting his cheek against his hand, staring out of the window.

“I looked on the wall of fame earlier,” Dew remarked. Willy sighed. Here it comes. “Looks like you’ve been bested… by the new kid!”

Willy grunted. “Right.”

“You’re not gonna take that, are you?” Dew leaned over Willy’s desk, practically getting in his face. Willy stared at him apathetically. “He beat your record, you set yourself up so hard to beat. Don’t let him get away with this, take it right from under his feet! Go for it, with both feet!”

“Thanks Dew,” Willy said indifferently. “Appreciate the pep talk.” Dew perked an eyebrow and stood up straight.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?” Dew inquired, folding his arms. Willy merely sighed.

“Forget it, Dew,” Willy replied harshly in a slight snap. Dew simply backed up and sat at his desk beside Willy.

The middle-aged teacher walked in the classroom, five minutes before class started, as usual. As he sat down and assorted through his boos and notes, he stood up, cleared his throat, and faced the class.

“Good morning, class,” the teacher spoke up firmly. The class dropped all of their conversations like a barbell, instantly giving their undivided attention. “We have a special guest in the class today. Our student council president, Lara Willman, would like to speak to the class as a whole.”

Willy’s eyes perked up slightly. He had heard his sister mention something about campaigning some cause or fundraiser or whatever across the school, but he didn’t care enough to ask for the details. He didn’t expect to see her here.

Sure enough, the white haired older girl walked in the classroom, accompanied by two students alongside her on the council, two boys, much taller than her, as if serving as representative guards. The students rose up and clapped as a sign of respect, as if this was actually a very serious and political matter.

The girl had vivid apricot eyes, her skin and overall complexion were breathtaking. As the light from the window shone an intense light over her body, her white hair dazzled brilliantly within the light. Most of the boys in the room instantly had a crush on her. Willy just felt the need to crush something else.

“Good day, my fellow peers,” Lara spoke with a smooth tenor and with a very authoritive edge. Those who knew her knew she was a natural born leader, and always demanded to be in control, yet was also one of the nicest people you would ever meet. Just like Willy, however, she was immensely competitive. This often led to a lot of brawls, figuratively, between the two. Lara was also one of the only people in the school, and probably the world, who could compete with Willy athletically. She never had a chance to due to her busy schedule at school and filling up a part-time job at a cheese factory. Willy even began to think she was slipping up. Yet her personality was always the same to her.

The others were seated instantly, paying their absolute attention to the class president. One of the representatives beside Lara handed her a small briefcase. She took it, opened it, revealing a large compilation of fliers. At the top, in bold print, probably 48 point size, read ‘SCHOOL FUNDRASIER.’ The tall boys took a stack respectively of the fliers and began passing them out among the class. Lara placed aside the case and smiled, folding her arms.

“It’s time for the annual school fundraiser. In an effort to raise awareness and inspiration, we are hosting a horde of events and competitions, ranging from races, hurdles, obstacle courses, and more. Entry is one dollar per person. This will be a public wide event, so guests will be welcome. If you wish to enter, please fill out the forms attached to the fliers and send your form to room 204B.” Lara ended her short speech with a polite wave to the class, which had them literally out of their seats, hunched over with heart throbbing proposals. Lara and her representatives left the room. Lara peeked her head back in, looking inside of the classroom, she waved back once more, this time, not looking quite as professional.

“Hi Willy! I’ll pick you up at 4:30 p.m. I’ll pick up your liniment beforehand,” Lara grinned with a nod, then left the room. Willy simple stared, facepalmed once, and flushed slightly, and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, refusing to look in the back of the classroom where anyone could see his face.

---

“A school fundraiser, huh?” Jesse said in between bites of his burrito. Willy and Jesse typically only talked at lunch this semester, since they shared no other class together. Willy nodded. Right now, Jesse was much more tolerable to be around than Dew. He still wasn’t completely satisfied with Jesse, but Jesse at least knew when to drop a ball. “Yeah, I think some of the student council visited my Algebra class today, but I wasn’t interested. They probably didn’t have the answer I wanted to achieve the Seven Spellings of Catastrophe, so I didn’t care.”

“I’m gonna enter,” Willy said calmly with an incredibly durable resolve. Jesse looked up, opening his mouth to speak with a mouthful of burrito meat.

“Well, okay,” Jesse said with a shrug. “Sounds intense.” Clearly, Jesse didn’t see the big deal. This sort of diminished Willy’s will to continue talking to Jesse. Alas though, he continued.

“I need to make sure he’s there,” Willy said, a rock solid stance in his glare. Jesse could even sense what he meant. He was really wanting to go to war with Sid. The bastard showed him up, he wasn’t getting away with that.

“Man,” Jesse swallowed. “What are you up to now?”

Willy looked at Jesse, as if he were at a federal case. Jesse looked on impassively, finishing up the rest of his lunch.

“I’m going to reign as the king,” Willy replied with a snaring glare. “I’m going to be the best. I was only one record away from having the most amount of records within the school. Two of those were taken so easily. I want my title back. If I’m going for the top, I can’t leave a single hole open in my trail.”

“I see,” Jesse said. “Just be careful. That new guy… I’ve seen him a few times around. He’s kinda chilling, you know.” Willy looked up slightly. For even Jesse, not interested in much of anything outside of the Deck Monsters card game and a regular otaku who mainly acknowledged the 2-D world, to call out another man as ‘chilling’, was something Willy didn’t expect to hear. Regardless, his determination didn’t falter, he knew he had to do this.

“He’s not much. Just a poser,” Willy said. “We’ll see who wins the crown.”

---

The annual fundraiser kicked off within a week’s time exactly. It was an after school event that took place in the back field of the school, in the football field which was also covered by the black track surrounding it. The gates were open for all to enter, paying the measly one dollar fee to enter the games and/or watch from the bleachers outside. The competitions were hot, as things ranged from a three-legged race, a jump rope competition, an obstacle course, several actually, and a water-balloon wet-off (whatever that was. Looked fun, though, especially since only girls entered the competition with white see-through T-shirts. Even Willy had these thoughts).

What Willy was particularly interested in, was the Quick Dash, or more specifically the mile long race along the track. Most people were the most excited for this event, and it was the only one Willy had signed up for. What would be more humiliating to Sid, that Willy would break his record he broke for Willy, in public where everyone would witness? The thought nearly made Willy mad with excitement. He jumped up; he was pumped up, the adrenaline flowing long before the match. Willy was more than just obsessed with revenge, he wanted, he needed that record.

A large, harsh pat on Willy’s back. Dew appeared, strangely dressed in black and blue shorts and no shirt, the ladies in the background awing over him. He posed and beamed a cocky smirk, pointing at Willy. Willy attempted to hide his face, wanting everyone around to know he didn’t know this guy. Right now he wished he didn’t.

“My man Willy! Glad to see you’re entering the competition! Here for the Quick Dash?” Dew smirked. Willy looked up slowly and nodded.

“Please don’t touch me…” Willy walked away, staring ahead at the track. Dew shrugged and stood beside Willy.

“So am I. Should be fun,” Dew smiled. Willy nodded his head.

Willy looked through the crowd of entrees, looking for any sign of that man he was expecting, he wanted to see here. He knew he would show up, that guy had a lot of pride as well. He knew his type; he was similar to himself and Lara.

Speaking of the devil, Lara appeared on stage in the center of the football field, a blow horn in hand, a horde of council members standing next to her side. “Now, this is what you all have been waiting for most eagerly! It’s time for the main event, the Quick Dash competition will begin! I request all participants please step onto the track in single file!”

Willy stepped up to the starting line at the track, stretching his legs, arms, back, even extroadinarily weird stretches that probably wouldn’t benefit him in the race at all. Next to him, lined up in a row of seven, were five other contestants. Willy looked on, noticing, strangely, Sid wasn’t in the lineup. Willy glared on. He knew he wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this to show Willy up. Sid should have assumed, as much as Willy assumed, that he would be there, and that they both would give it their all. All with only one goal, to win.

Dew stood next to Willy, stretching his legs outright. Willy heard Dew’s fan girls scream from the bleachers, some even trying to cross the gate in the school. As one girl escaped over the fence, hearts decorating her trail, she was suddenly tripped from underneath her feet. Her arms pinned behind her back, she sprawled in pain, spitting out a small bit of grass.

Lara got up, standing up tall and proud. As she did, security personnel took the girl outside of the field. As Lara casually walked on, everyone else stared in alarm. Willy only grinned, he expected no less anyway.

Lara lifted her horn, holding it over her face. “It’s time to kick off the Dash! Competitors, get ready!” they took their stances over the line. Right at the last second, the dark, ominous boy took the final line. Willy glared over at the boy as he appeared with a resolute scowl. The boy looked over with his dark eyes, leaned down, placing his hand on the track, and grinned mercilessly, baring his sharp fangs.

“Three…”

The intensity was driving up. Willy leaned farther down to assert himself in his position.

“Two…”

Everyone else followed his lead.

“One…”

Sid looked Willy’s way, cocked his head back with a boastful tilt, clearly mocking Willy for all he stood for. Willy was now infuriated.

“Go!”

They all dashed off, running full throttle across the track, except a few people in the back who merely ran at a comfortable pace in no rush. Willy sprinted forward, the blood pumped through his legs, he felt his adrenaline completely kick in, and he stormed off through the track. Even during the turns, his moves didn’t falter. He kicked up his pace during the straight ways, his arms moving in a fluid pace along his body. He looked back for a split second, noticing he was behind literally everyone… even Sid. In fact… Sid was all the way in the back, not far away from the pacers.

Willy grunted and frowned. What the hell is that bastard up to now? Willy knew he was up to something. Until then, he had to keep up his pace. He could do it, he trained himself day and night for days like this. It was time to reclaim his title, he would do it now, in front of a standing ovation, everyone would see Willy, and acknowledge him. He didn’t care so much for popularity really, but if people saw just what he could do, it would only further increase his chance to do anything he wanted with himself, and be proud for what he could do. He wanted no one to even touch him in his records. Standing at the top of the world, was his only goal.

Lara watched from inside of the arena, casually standing among the platform in the center. The vice-president of the council, a freshmen with an extremely calm disposition, blue hair that adorned sort of wildly among his face, cold sapphire eyes that appeared to have little interest in anything… outside of the 2-D world.

“Is this a hereditary trait in your family? Ape-shit status activation?” Jesse, the vice-president, asked somewhat sarcastically. Lara only glanced at Jesse with a short glare. The only reason she didn’t pummel him when they first met, or even allow him to be on the council, was because he and Willy had been friends for so long, she at least respected that. And even so, he was a very productive member in the council, in his own strange ways. He could be series and diplomatic when it mattered.

“Oh Willy…” Lara simply sighed, yet narrowed her eyes and smiled. “There is no beacon that illuminates as lively as you.”

Willy continued his sprint across the track. Completely confident in his victory now, only two more laps to go until the end. He had only broken a little sweat, while he had lapped some people twice, even Dew once. In fact, he was coming up on a lap on Dew again. Willy sprinted behind Dew, only a few meters away. Dew looked back, sweating like a banshee, panting like a fat pig.

“Willy… you’re coming back… say, wanna run the rest of these laps for me?! I think… I’m about to pass out…”

Willy closed in on Dew as he slowed down, smiled. “Of course!”

“My body… is glistening with sweat!”

Suddenly, in a swift move forward, a new figure appeared next to Willy as he ran. Willy’s eyes widened, he looked over, noticing the dark haired boy, his face hanging down, his black hair covering his face. He looked up, dark eyes piercing through Willy, and even Dew was startled, nearly falling out of the track and ultimately out of the face. Dew regained his composure and kept running. Willy and Sid both took off immediately, picking up their pace and passing Dew greatly.

“Go Willy…! Kick his ass…!!” Dew spun around once for virtually no reason, and began running backwards. “My trajectory… totally off course!! I’m gonna… fall… and lose…”

Lara observed from her post in the stadium, watching the two boys clash heads and go at it full throttle. Lara looked on in shock. “Unbelievable… he’s keeping up with Willy? That’s insane…”

Jesse folded his arms and observed next to Lara. “That is quite intense,” Jesse said with a somewhat nod of acknowledgement. “This is getting interesting…”

“Willy has competition, huh?” Lara smiled. “Go for it, Willy. You’re amazing, you know.”

Willy and Sid both came to the turn. Sid skillfully maneuvered past Willy as he nearly lost his footing. Sid literally rolled beneath Willy’s feet as he began to fall. The crowd even gasped as Willy nearly fell face first on the track. Sid looked back apathetically. Willy caught his balance in a handspring, and continued his ultimate pursuit; an intense expression painted on his face, followed by Sid’s narrowing eyes, and his calm yet daunting demeanor. Willy noticed that Sid had literally not broken a sweat. This pissed Willy off slightly, but he would not hesitate. He who hesitates is lost. That was a proverb Willy lived by.

Willy caught up with Sid, directly behind him, approaching the finish line, only one lap to go.

The coach and overseer of the race took their time, raising his arm with his stopwatch, he announced. “Lap Nine! One more lap! Go!”

Willy and Sid immediately picked up their pace. The crowd was practically raving at their showdown. Willy struggled to keep past Sid… but Sid appeared to not be fatigued at all. What the hell, was he even human? Was he in that perfect physical shape that even surpassed Willy’s? No way Willy would stand for this.

Sid once again passed Willy. Willy faltered slightly, tripping off of the track, he rolled throughout the field in an amazing fury, crashing into a barrel of accessories… even being impaled in the arm by a rake. Willy screamed, his arm began bleeding. The crowd gasped, the coach moved forward. Sid merely looked back… yet dropped his pace…and continued running.

Willy forcefully pulled the rake out of his arm. He groaned in pain. Lara and Jesse from afar looked horrified. Lara’s eyes widened and shrunk. “Willy! Stop the race!!”

“DON’T YOU DARE STOP THIS RACE!!” Willy exclaimed, clenching his fists, his resolve completely took over. Lara shook slightly, even Jesse appeared shaken. The coach stepped back, only looking ahead.

“Son… you need to seek medical help immediately! Come with me-“

“Don’t touch me!!” Willy glared ahead, immediately got back on the track. He ripped off his shirt, literally ripped it off by the collar, throwing it aside across the track. Blood began to splatter upon his body from his wound.

Willy had trained himself to defeat his stamina by subjecting his mind to his primal instincts. He still hadn’t perfected the art yet… but it was taking over. Willy’s expression nearly became blank, as he launched himself forward in a blind rage. When Willy was in a dire situation, often impossible odds placed against him, he had an involuntary habit of kicking into ‘overdrive’, or basically allowing his primal instincts to take over. He doesn’t think anymore, he just does. He ignored his injury, it didn’t even matter. All that mattered, was winning this damn race.

Sid looked back, tilted his head back with an arrogant smirk and kept going. It appeared as though, through this scene, Sid was completely manipulating Willy, which Willy was unaware of right now. Sid was controlling the race, he had been the entire time. Sid was losing at the beginning, because he chose to lose. He’s winning now, because he chooses to win.

Willy attempted to defy these laws, and moved forward, going across the last turn, he lapped Dew once again. Dew appeared, running alongside Sid. Willy appeared in between the three, a somewhat blank expression among his face. His eyes appeared lifeless now, only focused on the goal ahead. Yet he was still aware of his surroundings, and acknowledged Sid and Dew.

“You’re good, Willy,” Sid said calmly and coldly, yet with a bitter sarcastic edge. “However, my victory is already certain,” Willy growled.

“That’s not for you to decide!” Willy attempted to pass, yet couldn’t outmaneuver and outrun Sid, blocking his path. Dew looked on from ahead.

“Is it not?”

“Okay guys… I really need to take a breather…--“ Dew faltered, as Sid passed him by in a burst of speed, he literally left him in his dust. Dew tripped… and toppled down. His body collapsed… over Willy’s. Willy, attempting to maneuver out of Dew’s falling reach, was caught by Dew, tripping over him, he flipped himself up, once more, yet he didn’t anticipate just where he was coming down.

Willy’s eyes widened. It was too late, he fell straight into a curve, by attempting to regain his balance and stand upright… his knee completely gave out. SNAP. That dreadful echo throughout the field. Willy fell straight down… his leg wobbled beneath him, tripping over the curve and a large bucket on the side. Drenched in his own blood, his body rolled across the field.

“Call 911! Get the medical unit over here now!” Sirens sounded inside of the arena, already prepared in case of any scene like this.

Lara covered her hands with her mouth, Jesse gritted his teeth. Lara ran for Willy, as Sid crossed the finish line. Sid stopped, began panting slightly, and looked on by himself. Sid looked nonchalantly toward the commotion, a dark glare plagued his face. Lara looked over at Sid… and glared with a death glare. Sid returned with narrowing his eyes, and smirked smugly, waving Lara off… he walked out of the arena, as if nothing had happened at all. Lara knew who that gesture was meant for.