My short stint of practising magic had proved particularly useful so far. Firstly in the written and technical assessments and beyond when I’d been palming nootropics all day, and then it had proved even more useful during my fight with the platinum haired candidate, Cyrus Beem. When I’d hit the floor for something like the third or fourth time in that fight I’d reached into my jacket to where I’d been keeping my pills. It had been surprisingly easy to swap the tag for a pill and, when I’d thrown the pill as far as I could, Cyrus had chased on after it. I hadn’t bothered to stick around and was now moving… slowly. No I was moving cautiously, keeping an eye out for ambushes, through the mid levels of the arena. Ahead of me I could see a new, for want of a better word, themed area. This one was constructed of concrete hollow cylinders, tubes, stacked on top of each other. It was a good spot for close combat fights. It was also a good place to trap someone. Throughout the stadium the tone sounded. It was a loud, oppressive sound that made my chest shake with the force of it. Yes it seemed Edward Chupton wanted the candidates to know when they’d failed or survived, without a doubt. Hopefully this had spelled the end for Cyrus Beem too. He’d be desperately searching around for a tag that wasn’t there when the tone sounded and that was it, he was out and I was safe. That was as long as he hadn’t decided to come after me, seeing revenge on me as a better use of his time than the futile effort of searching for his tag.

I moved a little quicker.

My fight with Cyrus Beem had shown me something, I was hopelessly outclassed in combat ability by most of the candidates. By my estimation Cyrus Beem would be ranked about ninth or tenth out of the candidates in terms of fighting skill and strength, putting him at about the middle. Candidates like Natalie Yamnson and the imposing Hugh Jaman would be at the top, the favourites to win. Finally candidates like me and the apparently harmless Millicent Lute would be at the very bottom, and I still suspected that Millicent was hiding something. Surely she had some sort of combat ability, it would be unthinkable to not train for combat alongside all your other studies. Battle royales had been a standard part of the interview process for years and it would be a grievous oversight to not prepare for such a thing. She had to be hiding something. And if she wasn’t then she was in real danger in this battle between people with highly charged poles and mechanical bodies and giant swords.If she got into a fight then how could she… I popped another pill into my mouth and swallowed. It was still unpleasant to take them dry but I was getting better at it. I still kept forgetting to take them though, and my mind kept wandering. If that happened in the middle of a fight it could spell the end for me. I carried on through the arena and came to a long bridge. It was thin, maybe three metres wide, and had no hand rail or guard of any sort. Below I could see a strange wavy surface, still made of concrete of course, marked with a regularly spaced pattern of holes. Of more interest was the figure I could see on the other side of the bridge, though they hadn’t noticed me. Yes they were there, as if summoned by my wandering thoughts, standing opposite me out in the open on another concrete platform in the shadow of the stacked tubes. Millicent Lute. I looked around but as far as I could tell no one was waiting to strike me down. Still I remained cautious as I walked across the bridge, keeping to the centre line, as far from either edge as it was possible for me to be. As I approached Millicent turned and noticed me. She waved and called my name.

“Norm!” she called. Okay she didn’t quite say my name. I put a finger to my lips. She really didn’t get it did she? I got to the end of the bridge and walked over to her. As I got closer her expression morphed from happiness to worry, presumably she noticed the bruises I’d sustained.

“Are you okay?” she asked, as if it was weird for someone to get hurt while battling to get hired.

“I had a run in with a guy, but I got away.” I left out the details, including the fact that I now had a second tag. There was no need to give out such information, even to the unceasingly clueless Millicent Lute. In yet another example of how unceasingly clueless she was, Millicent Lute’s tag was on full display. She had it around her neck like I had mine but had it over her clothes rather than hidden in any way. It couldn’t have been a trap like Cyrus Beem had set, right? Why bait someone to go for your neck, it was a pretty vulnerable place anyway, chances were a lot of opponents would be going for it anyway even without the promise of another tag.

“I’ve managed to avoid other candidates so far,” Millicent said, “until you found me of course.” she added.

“What about me?” I span and pulled a fist back to hit whoever had just managed to sneak up behind me. This damn clueless woman was infecting me and I’d gotten distracted. Distracted enough to let someone get so near without me even noticing. I swung my fist directly at this newcomer’s face. Donald, it was Donald by the way, yelped and dodged, stumbling back a bit. “Hey Norman calm down!” I didn’t throw another punch, but I didn’t drop my arms either. “You haven’t changed a bit.” Donald chuckled to himself. What was that meant to mean? I still didn’t drop my guard. He’d been acting friendly all day but that didn’t change the fact that we were enemies here. The other enemy I was in striking distance of began speaking too.

“Oh hi Don. How are you?” Millicent waved a hand in greeting.

“Oh I’m doing fine.” Donald shrugged, causing the large sword he’d been carrying on his back all day to shift up slightly. “The second tone sounded before I encountered anyone.”

“Ah, me too.” Millicent seemed… relieved that she wasn’t the only one who gone undetected for the first hour. “Norm, you’re the only one of us who got into a fight so far.” It seemed that I was.

“Yes I can tell.” Donald commented, apparently also noticing my bruises. “Who was it?” I thought for a moment before answering.

“That guy with the light hair, Cyrus something. He was in the box next to me and went straight for me when we dropped in.”

“So he’s out of the running now?” Again I thought for a moment before answering Donald. I had to choose my words carefully.

“Hopefully.” I chose my word very carefully.

“Hopefully?” Donald repeated my word as a question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I threw his tag away to distract him from me.” like all good lies this wasn’t completely untrue, “Hopefully he never managed to find it and was eliminated when the second tone sounded.” Donald nodded, apparently satisfied with my answer. For some reason the two tags felt like they weighed a little heavier on my neck.

“But we all made it this far.” Millicent smiled.

“I suppose we did.” Donald seemed amused, rather than worried or simply confused, by Millicent’s strange attitude to this whole situation. I was less amused. I was… I was worried about her? No that couldn’t be right. I’d only met her this morning and from the very start we were enemies. I’d never thought of her as anything other than an enemy the entire time. An uncharacteristically amicable enemy, that was for sure, but an enemy all the same. One that I couldn’t let my guard down around, one that I could never let myself, under any circumstances, underestimate. Despite this I could tell that she was weak. While she and I were most certainly at the bottom of the food chain in this battle royale the difference between us was still staggering. Unless she was a masterful actor that could hide any sign of alertness and combat skill she was a weakling. She moved normally, spoke normally, watched normally. There was no sign of the control, the alertness, the constant assessment of danger, that anyone with even a little training would have. And yet despite the fact that she posed no threat to me whatsoever I was more wary of her than I was of any of the other candidates I’d seen. Not even the perfect Natalie Yamnson or the intimidating Hugh Jaman had me as worried as Millicent Lute. Those two were strong yes, far far stronger than me, but they were the opponents I’d expected. Millicent was different. She was no threat to me. She was barely an obstacle in my fight to getting the position of assistant graduate trainee intern at Extech but… it felt like she opposed something else. It felt like she was going to stop me from winning somehow. It felt, in that moment, like she was the one thing that would truly stop me from getting the job.

Dammit the drugs couldn’t be wearing off already? I’d already taken so many today and my last dose hadn’t even been too long ago. But they must have worn off because I heard the words slip from my mouth like light piercing the gaps between curtains.

“Why are you like this?” Millicent and Donald looked at me. “Why can’t you see that this is a battle? We’re enemies! You should be trying to kill me or at least steal my tag! Why are you so… Why are you…” Why are you so nice? Dammit Millicent Lute why are you doing this to me?! Why is it that every time I speak to you I feel like I’m losing myself, like I’m slipping away?

Millicent smiled. It was that same smile she’d given to Cyrus back in that final waiting room. It was a genuine smile. A smile tinged with sadness and worry but also with a hope that shone through all else.

It wasn’t a perfect smile, but it was a real smile.

“Norm I…” she paused for a moment, no doubt looking for the words to say but unlike when I paused it wasn’t that she was formulating a lie. It wasn’t that she was trying to think of a way to answer without arousing suspicion and betraying too much information. She was trying to find a way to best explain herself. In the end she found something resembling an answer. “I don’t want to hate you, Norm.”

I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t open my mouth because I knew that if I did more words would come tumbling out with no way for me to stop them. I couldn’t say to her… I couldn’t say I don’t want to hate you either.

“Hey.” Another voice from nearby. This time both Donald and I span round, ready to fight. Before us stood a tall man with longish blonde hair. He had the beginnings of a darkish beard growing on his chin and both his hands were raised in surrender. “Wait wait wait!” he shouted as Donald and I both dashed forwards, Donald pulling his sword from his back. “I just want to talk!” This assessment day really had attracted the oddest of candidates, I mused as we drew closer. I could tell from the shape of the man’s grey suit jacket that he had a weapon, most likely a gun, hidden under one arm. His arms were still up in the air but if he moved now he could still pull it out before we reached him. “Please I need to talk to you!” the man screamed, his face a picture of panic. He was looking past us, presumably at Millicent, admittedly the most likely of us to be willing to talk. His gambit paid off as Millicent called out:

“Norm! Don! Stop!” we were in striking distance right there and then. I could take him out in seconds. I slid to a stop, still holding my arms ready to strike. Donald came to a halt too, sword ready to swing. The man let out a sigh of relief.

I wouldn’t be relieved just quite yet. I kept that thought to myself.

“Millicent, isn’t it?” The man addressed Millicent. He was acting unsure but he definitely knew. No one would have forgotten Millicent’s name in a hurry. “Like I said, I need to talk to you.” The man, his arms still raised, began to walk slowly past Donald and I, towards Millicent.

The moment you do anything suspicious I’ll take you out.

“Talk?” Millicent seemed taken aback that someone shared her strange priorities, “What do you mean?”

“After what you did in the waiting room… before we all came here…” The man paused for a moment, performing the time honoured tradition of searching for a way to explain oneself. “I knew that you might be able to help me. You are like me, are you not? You also hate this system that we are trapped in!” The man’s voice became more animated as he talked, his eyes lighting up. They didn’t actually light up, not many people went for that kind of mechanical upgrade. Also what was he on about? Trapped in a system, what system?

“What are you talking about?” I said. Millicent said the same thing almost simultaneously. The man continued, now really getting into the swing of whatever speech he was just starting.

“I want you to help me topple this system.” he said, I want you to play a part in freeing workers everywhere, in throwing off the shackles we have grown so accustomed to wearing.” the man stepped forwards, “The way of the world, run by those with money, for money, must end. We must rise up and take back the power and I need your help to do it!” another step. Millicent’s expression was changing, like her eyes were also preparing to light up. Like she’d been waiting her whole life to hear these words.

Then Donald decapitated the man. He did it in one smooth swing. It was very clean, as far as decapitations go. The man’s head flew off and hit the ground nearby and his body collapsed. Millicent gasped but didn’t scream.

“Don…” her voice quavered.

“I’d stop worrying about whoever this was, Millicent.” Don gave his sword a spin and pointed it at her. “I’d start worrying about yourself.”

And in that moment everything started to make sense again.