Highfive's wild swings continued to fail him, and another strike took him in the back with a flash of energy. This time, his bucking craziness gave him better warning, and the strike punched through into the back of a shoulder blade. Furthermore, when Highfive immediately swatted with a giant sheath backhand, he flared the attack long and wide, and managed to clip a retreating Inkblot with the edge of a finger, sending him spinning and sprawling to the ground.

"Yes!" Jack called, thrusting up a fist. Meanwhile, Bo scowled at him and harrumphed, crossing her arms and watching the ensuing results.

Highfive's emphatic swap had some carry-through momentum, leaving him slow to segue into the next follow-up, and likely the injury was slowing him, too. His best move was to try for a thumb strike on the rolling, recovering Inkblot, already almost faded from sight.

Inkblot could be seen getting his feet under him just as the thumb was coming at him, but he disappeared before dodging. The sheath's thumb came down and smashed deeply into the earth, apparently hitting nothing.

Rather than fade out and disappear in another hit-and-run, Inkblot went for another strike immediately while there was an opening. This time, he slashed at the sheath itself surrounding Highfive in a wide arc, while dashing toward Highfive's rear. This successfully ripped the sheath up, causing it to sputter and some of the 'protection' to more or less disintegrate into the ether.

Jack had seen sims do stuff like this before, usually with energy attacks. It would weaken his sheath. From Inkblot's angle of attack, he had little other choice due to the thickness of it at any given point that wasn't carefully chosen out. It reduced options.

His weapon reach is a major disadvantage against Highfive. This actually isn't a good match-up. Yeesh. He still scored two hits!

Highfive, not really being inhibited by the attack, didn't spin around this time. Instead, he just rammed backwards, slamming right into Inkblot — as awkward and non-optimal as this was, it sent Inkblot flying with a pained grunt.

By the time Highfive spun around, Inkblot was already recovering. Another finger sweep was dodged, those sheath fingertips with a bit less reach than before, or Inkblot might've otherwise gotten clipped yet again. Instead, he dodged and faded away, eliciting another follow-up, wild charge by Highfive that didn't connect.

If he ever did, though… ugh. Fiver needs to try to wait out the energy. Obviously, Inkblot can't go forever while invisible.

Indeed, after another sudden blind swat backwards by Highfive, Inkblot went in again for a back strike from Highfive's previous front, but he seemed, to Jack's eyes, a step slower. He made contact with the stab of his knife, but it had to be on Highfive's arm as he jerked and twisted his torso away within the sheath.

Highfive gritted his teeth and swung the giant hand around yet again, but Inkblot was both slower and — likely due to the slowness — too over-committed inside Highfive's ridiculous reach. A chop hit him, the 'pinky' swiping into his body and tossing him into an unfavorable, chaotic sprawl and roll. Highfive's follow-up was a briefly-towering swat while Inkblot was still rolling, and he failed to dodge this time, just managing to flip around as the hand came down.

Boom! A thunderous, wince-inducing impact, and the cracking sound of activated shielding, as Inkblot might've just been saved from the deadly power of a psychokinetic rhino dropping on him. As it was, he was indented into the grass and earth like a shallow, makeshift grave.

Despite this, the grunting sounds of simulated injury were mutual, and Highfive quickly popped upward and backed off, holding his gut with a hand and grimacing as if nauseated. Below, the indented form of Inkblot, now entirely visible, had his knife upward-facing, obviously having jabbed Highfive in the stomach as a parting gift. Regardless, Highfive was standing, and Inkblot was paralyzed briefly, as the System field energy was encasing him to simulate someone who was dead.

Jack thrust his fists up in victory. "Yes! Fiver wins!"

Bo had her hands on her head, a look of horror on her face. "No! You were so close…"

"Close won't be buying my lunch!"

Bo made a sour face without looking at him.

The field wiped the simulated injuries of the combatants after a moment, and Highfive shook his head in wonder as he dropped his sheath and held a hand down to help Inkblot up. "Dude, I can't believe you wounded me three times. That was way too close."

Inkblot took the hand and pulled himself up, nodding. He looked quite exhausted, sweat covering his body and sticking earth and grass to him. "Stalkers can be great in duels. Until they're adapted to. That's why we have to keep our shit mysterious." A pause as he threw his knife down into the earth, rolled his shoulder, and popped his neck. Regarding Highfive, he added, "You're a terror of an opponent."

"Thanks." Highfive grinned. "Likewise. Well, man, you already got my vote, but after that, count me double or something." He looked over at Bo. He frowned at her general annoyed demeanor. "Why are you- Wait, you bet on him, didn't you?!"

"No," Bo replied without any obvious tells.

Highfive continued frowning doubtfully, eyes flickering to Jack. Whatever expression Jack 'inadvertently' leaked made him grin. "Jack, you bet on me!? I'm touched. Seriously. What a bro. Big Iron shit, right there."

Jack just shrugged and scratched the back of his head, not commenting. Meanwhile, Bo glared accusingly at him.

"I would've bet on Highfive myself," Inkblot said. The other guys chuckled at that.

"Not helping your case, are you?" Bo asked with a cocked head and an imperious raised eyebrow.

Inkblot was unmoved, meeting her gaze without flinching. "If you were so petty or irrational to vote no for that, I wouldn't want to join you in the first place."

A mutual glare continued for a long, seemingly heated moment. Then Bo suddenly lifted her chin, took a deep breath, and said, "Touché. You're in. Assuming Jack's silence is acceptance."

"Obviously, my vote is yes," Jack clarified. "Welcome aboard, Ink."

Inkblot nodded to them respectfully. "Thanks."

Highfive fist-pumped. "Yes! Haha! New gym bro!" His face got serious as he met Inkblot's eyes. "Bro, we gotta compare workout routines and supplements. I think you have something special in there."

Inkblot seemed to consider this with equal seriousness. "Sure. I'm partially self-taught. It's cobbled together, some from books and videos. People. You wouldn't believe some of the things I picked up from this maniac savant in rehab. I doubt his tricks made it out; not sure he did, either."

As an excited Highfive opened his mouth to reply, Bo interjected emphatically, "Ink, we should talk basic strategy and so forth together for a bit. We have training sim time not long from now, too, so Fiver should register you on the team and get you approved to come — assuming you're free. Getting started on doing sims with four members would be golden."

"I can make that happen. Let me get dressed and grab any dropped ink I can salvage first."

As Highfive stared into space to internally do 'official stuff,' Inkblot retrieved his gear and clothes and brushed his hands in a few places to clean up the ink. Before long, they were all gathered together, sitting in a loose circle on the fake grass. The trio gave a brief rundown of what they could do as Inkblot listened along quietly, nodding ever so often and occasionally asking clarifying questions. They also forwarded the basic tactic of using the trio as a strong forward offensive front, with Inkblot invisible as a flanker to swoop in and engage at an opportune time.

It was a simple trap they all agreed was a good default. Primarily, it assumed that the enemy couldn't detect Inkblot, which had to be at least a significant portion of matches, probably even a small majority. Sensory specialists weren't that common in the PACCs and were usually incidental to other powers, like Bo as a Disruptor having a secondary in Interpret. Acrobats might be a problem as targets, but they didn't usually alert their whole team to stealth acts nearby. Controllers might have a high Interpret as well, or, like Jack, use particle fields. Earth or stone types might sense vibrations, but they'd still need decent Interpret to beat out the stealthiness of Inkblot. Whatever the case, Controllers were usually resourceful and best to be wary of.

Beyond these 'maybes' were the occasional Sentinels, Scouts, and Snipers, who all tended to have strong sensory abilities, more often than not. Of the three, Sentinels were the most common in the PACCs, as good 'fourth man' all-arounders, and otherwise the bane of all Stalkers. Depending on the powerset, they would run intercept and likely stall a stealth user out, at the least. They were also about as desirable as a tank as a primary target, i.e., not at all. They were generally stalling experts with a bag of tricks, erring defensive, but wildcard-like. Offensive builds were possible.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Meanwhile, Scouts would most often be a kind of cat-and-mouse game, and Snipers perhaps cat-and-cat with a high chance of either ending up dead — barring team shenanigans. Thankfully, Snipers were rare.

Any given support or glass cannon was a great assassination target and a strong consideration for an opener. The enemy would expect it if they knew, but preventative measures could be countered by Bo.

At some point, Jack asked more about Inkblot's gear limits. "I take it you're minimalist on weapons by necessity?"

Inkblot nodded. "All extra external surface area and material at depth from my skin that I have to coat in the invisible blood costs me. I keep one smaller backup memory metal shiv at my back, that's it. Efficiency should improve marginally with level-ups. I can hope for more, but I won't be holding my breath."

"You can bring extra to drop on the battlefield, though. If you happen to fall back, there it is. Can even surprise a foe with a new weapon or something."

Inkblot's eyebrows rose appreciatively. "A damn good point. I'll remember that. My greatest energy cost is the process of going into stealth. The maintenance is less, so making a… session count is ideal."

"Gotcha. Let me know if you ever need a new weapon in the field. Your dagger looks tip-top high-grade custom shit, so I don't think I can improve it, but I can produce good backups quickly."

"Noted. Thanks."

"I was also meaning to ask: can you sling ink? Pretty nasty if you splatter a faceplate."

Inblot frowned and made a subtle, reluctant gesture. "I always have a bit of loss when my black ink frees itself from my control, which is not very far from my body. Even if I recover it, there is going to be attrition. I bathe in ink to replenish, but the absorption rate is minuscule."

"You bathe in ink?!" Highfive asked in exclamation. "Damn, that's metal, bro."

"Okay," Jack muttered, "so you can only unleash that in an actual match, and sparingly."

"Yes," Inkblot replied. "I'm aware of the tactic, though. Also, against the rare, bare face, ink in the eyes is a legal maneuver. I checked. Panic-inducing, but there's no chance of permanent impairment versus Nons."

"Ooooh. That is damned handy, yeah."

"People these days think you summon shit from your tattoos," Bo said. "That's the only reason you display them."

"Not exactly. When I awakened, I had tattoos, despite my young age. They were absorbed at that point. I originally added actual tattoos instead of bathing in ink. I'd keep them in their original position, but I ran out of surface area I found aesthetic to me, which also kept up with the maximum volume of ink I could retain. At that point, I began absorbing it into my muscles, hidden until needed. That aside, yes, I do make it seem relevant to my powers, publicly. It isn't entirely unknown otherwise, but we may get lucky. For the first match. If it is won more simply, what is seen might be considered the effect of only a small number of tattoos, and it is assumed I have more tricks not yet unleashed. Eventually, people will catch on, however."

Highfive waved a hand dismissively. "Psh! Bro, we're gonna smoke the first team we fight, whoever they are. Guaranteed."

Bo sighed in annoyance. "Why don't we not jinx things, Fiver? You said the same damn thing for the last 'first match' and we fraggin' lost."

"Wait, I did? We did?" After a moment, blinking, he took in a sharp breath. "Oh shiiiit… we did, didn't we… alright, alright! That was a long time ago, but I take it back. No jinx."

Inkblot stared at him. "So you think we're going to lose?"

"Huh?! No! Are you kidding me? We're gonna ace that shit!"

As Inkblot continued staring incredulously, Jack chuckled and said, "You can't take it back, Blondy, but you can knock on wood." He made eyes over at a nearby tree.

Highfive looked at Jack, looked over at the tree, and sighed in defeat. "Fine." He hopped up, ran over, and rapped his knuckles on the tree. "Satisfied?"

"You have placated the jinx spirits with your diligence, good sir. Well done."

Bo nodded in agreement, and Highfive came jogging back to plop on the grass in a sideways lying position, almost immediately ripping up the grassy turf with his hands in impulsive need, as he'd been doing the whole time they were sitting.

"We should try to set up a false leak," Jack declared, eyes flickering across everyone. "If we win, that Inkblot is hiding his cards until he has to use them. Sow some extra fear."

Bo nodded in appreciation. "I like it. I… can definitely arrange that, if Inky is okay with it."

Inkblot quirked an eyebrow. "Inky?"

Bo looked back at him challengingly, wearing a faint smile.

Inkblot exhaled sharply through his nose. "Misdirection is like jam for my bread. Be my guest."

They continued chatting a while longer, mostly getting into what powersets and combinations they might run into and how best to handle them. Jack, ever a stickler for scheduling, eventually called a stop so they'd have a little time for errands and such before they had to hit the training chamber. They split up and exited the 'grove.'

But not before Highfive, grinning big, gave Jack a hug and a clap on the shoulder. With a more sober expression, he said, "Thank you, brother. You completed our team. First with yourself, and now this badass. I'm floored, man. Totally floored at having a team like this so quickly. It's such a damn load off of me, and our chances look pretty damn good. All thanks to you."

Jack, somewhat embarrassed by the praise, took it in stride, nodding slowly. "You bet. Don't mention it. You can thank me when we're on the other side of the gauntlet, alright?"

Highfive made an emphatic thumbs-up. "I'll hold you to that, so do be expecting it, bro."

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Inner Energy has improved to 0.65!

Team training into the evening went smashingly. Highfive suggested sticking to lower difficulty, both to get used to four-on-four and not drain everyone prematurely during an extra evening session, especially Bo. Everyone agreed.

They won three in a row handily, the first two thanks to Inkblot executing a vulnerable foe right off the bat. The third had a Sentinel that prevented this, but the distraction of countering the elusive Stalker still gave them an offensive opening and distraction, which they immediately exploited to take someone out. The annoying Sentinel was the last to fall, but the victory was won handily.

At this point, they stepped up the difficulty out of relative boredom due to the lack of challenge.

The very next match was a hated 'Stronghold Defense' scenario facing a stone-based Controller smack in their element in the old, familiar destroyed cityscape. The others included a Catalyst, a generic strong-body Guardian, and a Summoner that created 'energy beasts.' These were offensively dangerous and fragile constructs, but capable of sacrificial blocks, and re-creatable.

The enemy group moved very quickly on the attack as a concentrated block, 'Stoneguy' tossing an attempted stone explosion in their midst right off the bat, as an opener before Inkblot could get in position. Bo had to counter it, disrupting the force at great cost to her energy. The charge was not expected, as the Summoner was obviously intended to probe base defenses and attempt attrition with her expendable minions first. The assumption had simply been spoiled due to fear of the Stalker lurking around.

Their timing was lackadaisical as Inkblot went for the Catalyst, who was enhancing Stoneguy, only to be counterattacked prematurely thanks to Stoneguy using a particle field around his whole party. Inkblot got wounded — almost taken out before his teammates engaged, screening him to just barely flee, primarily thanks to a big, slamming charge by Highfive that started separating the enemy group nicely. But then Highfive got locked down by the tank as the damage dealers counterattacked, going for Jack and Bo.

On the precipice of defeat and taking multiple wounds, the party nonetheless weathered the storm. Jack, deducing a limitation in the middle of battle, walled off the support from Earthguy, breaking a required line of sight for enhancement. This was in synchronicity with Bo disrupting Earthguy to prevent him from immediately countering the maneuver. The tank leapt over a wall to guard their precious support, but Inkblot had already been instructed to go for the Summoner. In the chaos, he went undetected and executed the vulnerable damage dealer — quite timely with her 'dogs' harrying Jack and Bo enough to strain their immediate offensive actions.

Earthguy was left to function as the sole damage dealer against the combined defense and inevitable counterattacks Team High Life could bring to bear. With the Catalyst managing to catch sight and boost him, they still almost took out Bo, but once again narrowly failed thanks to last-ditch disruption. The Catalyst paid the price. As he managed to avoid instant death from Inkblot, Jack got a metal band around his neck. Highfive kept Earthguy busy, and Inkblot absorbed the tank's attention long enough for Jack to snap the support's neck.

They finished off the other two, mostly three-to-one, not wanting Bo to waste any more energy than she already had. The damage-dealer was focused on and removed first, the tank unable to hold off three at once. It took quite a while to beat down the stupid Guardian with attrition, but he was thankfully no regenerator.

A hard-fought win.

Everyone was dirty and dinged up from it. Even Highfive was panting with his hands on his hips as he tore his mask off. He grinned and said, "We suck on defense, but we won! Hell yeah!"

Jack nodded, plopped on his rear on rough stone, helmet off. As usual, he wasn't exactly panting, but his heart was pumping. And he had cuts and bruises from the shit the simulation 'allowed.' "Room to improve, definitely."

Bo, flopped entirely on the ground and still breathing hard, merely grunted. Her meaning was unclear.

Inkblot was standing, inspecting cuts on his arm with no sign of blood evident. "A sim sponsored by Memoria just bled me with stones; fraggin' energy wolves literally went for my throat." A pause as he must've been rubbing invisible blood between his fingers. "I think I've found a new training addiction."

Highfive and Jack chuckled in understanding. Nothing convinced the body to get steppin' like a bit of actual pain. Or, namely, the threat of it.

Bo grunted again, long and with an ending sniff. The meaning was significantly clearer than before. Something like, 'You're a bunch of psychotic frag-offs.'

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