Locking eyes with the viper

That glance was all I needed to know that Marianne was doing far better than I. Despite starting with 4 opponents instead of 3 and one of them being far more skilled than any of mine she was still in perfect control. The smile on her face hadn't once slipped and the only ones left standing were Marianne and Jamie.

Marianne was dealing out a number of powerful punches in Jamie's direction. Jamie however would dodge every single one. Some by the slimmest margins others by quite a distance but he would always be able to get away. The look on his face however showed how little control he had over the situation.

Despite his usual expressionless I had come to expect from the grown up Jamie, he was actually frowning. This was because he clearly realized that even one hit from Marianne would be enough to take him out. He meanwhile would occasionally strike out with a jab at Marianne.

Yet these jabs appeared to be doing absolutely nothing at all. Marianne would just take the jab on a non-vital area and shrug them off. Not to say that she wasn't being harmed but that she could continue for quite some time like this.

Their fight was clearly one sided and it motivated me. Turning my eyes back to my own opponent they burned with a passion that wasn't there before. I shouldn't just accept that I'm weaker than Marianne and call it quits. I'm going to catch up to her someday. Even if I'm not as strong as she is I have specialities of my own.

The man in front of me was grimacing from the pain. Apparently taking the knife in the arm was a good way to get a breather from my constant attacks but it still hurt quite a bit. I decided we'd had enough of a break and I charged.

One step forward and I was immediately within range. I send a kick at the man's head. He instinctively brings up his arm and I grin. My leg approaches his arm and he realises a little too late the mistake he made. Regardless he attempts to compensate, moving his arm so I don't kick the area the knife is lodged into.

The dull feeling of contact through my shoe is enough to tell me I hit something. His grunt of pain is enough to tell me I hit something important. With that thought I bring down my leg and punch straight for the man's gut.

One jab, one uppercut and one right hook. All of these actions completed in succession and aimed at different parts of his body. The jab to the abdomen is seemingly ignored. A small grunt of pain all I get in return. Apart from his own counterattack.

Before he can follow through however my uppercut heads straight for his jaw. He leans his head backwards not willing to take this one. His vision is thus on the ceiling for a moment and that is his final conscious mistake in front of me.

I send the right hook directly towards where I believe his head will return. Sure enough like a metronome in time with the music his head appears to swing back to it's original position. Directly towards my fist.

A loud thwack rings throughout the room as my fist makes contact with the man's cheekbone. I see the moment of realisation in his eyes as my fist sinks into his cheek. A similar moment of shock, followed by falling unconscious are the only things in the man's future.

His body falls backwards and hits the ground with a surprisingly light sound. Barely audible to my ears but clearly audible to Marianne's the moment I look back at her she grins at me. "It would appear my comrade is finished. It would be rude to make her wait." Says Marianne with a smile.

Her voice isn't tender like it is with us, nor is it baritone as per her usual tone. Now it's downright ferocious. That is the low growl of a beast with eyes locked on it's prey. Jamie appears to recognise this as he grimaces slightly before returning to his frown and readying himself.

Marianne sends a cannon-like punch his way and this time it's far faster and presumably more impactful than when I was watching previously. I can't keep up with her movement and would have to move on instinct alone should I want to dodge it. Jamie appears to do the same.

Without even reacting he moves his palm in the path of the punch and deflects it to the side. The smack of his palm hitting her fist was rather loud and akin to the crack of a whip as I heard the exchange from my place on the sidelines.

Jamie almost instinctively shakes his hand after the impact but sees another similar punch heading straight for his gut and slides to the side with all the grace of a swan. Something I didn't notice from before was the fluidity of his movements. He almost seems like he's dancing around Marianne.

Yet she doesn't seem flustered in the slightest. In fact Marianne grins and the moment she does Jamie trips. I'm not entirely sure what caused it. When I looked at his feet all I saw was him tripping. Whether it was an accident of his own or Marianne I will never know.

Marianne brings up her knee ready to knock Jamie out. The knee approaches his face at a tremendous speed. To be more accurate he approaches the knee. Marianne doesn't even have to put effort in. It's as though she's saying he's beneath her notice.

I expect the impact at any moment and prepare myself for the worst. He likely won't die but that will certainly hurt. Thinking as much I steel my resolve to watch this for his sake. Yet my expectations are betrayed. He swiftly turns his body mid-air and avoids the knee strike.

The surprise in Marianne's eyes might be the first I've ever seen from her. Even when we were told about the mission and the bonuses I don't think she was this surprised and yet… I see her eyes widen as Jamie rolls across the floor in front of her.

He still falls onto the ground but he's not unconscious yet and therefore still a threat. Just as I thought everything was over. My resolve to see him get hurt also goes to waste as I watch him harmlessly bleed off his momentum.

Marianne prepares to give chase but two voices ring out at the same time in our ears and appear to stop Marianne in her tracks. "2 minutes remaining." The normal announcement from Mainframe comes through our earbuds. Not something that we would notice under any other circumstances.

The second voice however is what gives that confirmation meaning. "That was a rather pathetic showing." A voice nearly as cold and mechanical as Mainframe's rings out from the hallway at the same time. Both I and Marianne turn to face that direction the moment it does. I don't know about her but I feel a chill run down my spine.

In front of us is a rather tall lady in what appears to be rather similar to a tracksuit with a necktie hanging down from the collar. The tracksuit is has a red base with black accents around her curves. Those curves are rather prominent themselves. Her larger than average chest straining against the suit. Yet the rest of her is also straining against the suit for a completely different reason.

Her legs and arms sport so much muscle that even though I know she's wearing several layers under that tracksuit I can still see the toned musculature under it. Even worse I know exactly what those types of muscles mean. Her muscles are focussed in all the right places for fighting.

Her physique is the perfect example of someone who lives and breathes combat. Her arms are musculature but it's not her biceps that stand out the most. It's the muscles on the other side of the forearm. The ones you use to punch things.

Her legs look more normal but seem just as deadly. Her stride is measured and clearly powerful. Every step she takes I can almost see her kicking out with those legs as she touches the ground. It's almost as though she calculated the exact way to stand such that every step is the perfect posture to launch a kick or power a punch.

Her torso is less pronounced but that likely has more to do with the fact that the layers are thicker on her torso than her legs and arms. There are still glimpses of muscle as the fabric of the suit clings to her skin but they are only noticeable with a more detailed look at her stomach.

Her facial expression isn't ferocious either. It isn't at all what I would expect from someone who lives and breathes the fight like she clearly does. It's a small smile. An inviting one as though she welcomes everyone around her into paradise.

Yet Emily has been a warning for me about people's smiles and I immediately take a look. The moment I do it's fairly obvious. Her facial muscles are slightly taught yet naturally so. They feel as though this is her resting position. This is her face when it's not doing anything. Yet it feels so calculated now that I see that.

Her smile is one of a politician. Of a businesswoman. Of someone who is used to trades where lives are on the line. Someone who is used to getting something out of everyone she meets. It doesn't scare me like Emily's smile and that fact scares me all the more.

The rest of her face is just as robotic. Her facial features almost seem as though someone took the exact average of every single woman and put them together in one place. They just seem so normal even comforting when I look at them that if I passed her on the street I would think she's the neighbourhood watch.

Yet, the fact that she's so average makes me question this all the more. Her features are average but ALL of them are average. Which is not normal. Your features don't naturally come out that average everyone has at least one defining feature. Good or bad everyone has something that makes them unique. But she's so unassuming she doesn't even have a single unique feature.

Her eyes are an odd mix of green and blue that almost seems grey. I haven't seen the eye colour before and it's certainly not a natural one. The feeling behind them is just as robotic as the rest of her. It almost seems as though she's not looking at me as a person, or herself.

It almost seems like she's playing a game and she's simply an avatar. She doesn't have anything reflecting off those strange eyes of hers. Nothing catches her attention and yet everything does. It's a strange sense of analytical detachment that not even robots possess.

While I'm looking into those cold, detached eyes she begins to clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. The sounds of her hands hitting each other is the only one in the room as the tension increases with each one. I watch Marianne in the corner of my eye and the smile has been wiped off her face. She isn't quite expressionless but her smile is significantly smaller. Yet there's an energy to it that wasn't there before.

She almost looks shy. As though she's found a new toy to play with but can't quite bring herself to play with it. I've seen that expression so often at the orphanage. A nice kid would want a toy but see that everyone else wants that same toy. So the nice kid would sit back and watch having that reserved smile on their face. The 'I want it but I can't quite bring myself to take it from them' smile. Something I'm very familiar with.

It's frankly shocking to see it on an adult let alone Marianne of all people. This fierce warrior who lives up to her name of the honey bear is shy? What is it she seems to want anyway? As I'm asking myself these questions the woman in front of us stops clapping and walks straight into the hallway while coming towards us.

"I didn't expect my apprentice to have such a bad showing in front of our guests. That just won't do. You'll need to be trained again little caterpillar." Says the woman with an artificially gentle smile directed towards Jamie.

"My apologies master." Replies Jamie not seeming ashamed or apologetic in the slightest. He doesn't seem happy though either. He almost appears like a doll. Yet the woman is seemingly satisfied with his answer as she turns back to us.

"Well I can't have anything going wrong while I'm still here so I'm afraid you're going to have to die." The moment she speaks these incredibly cold words I notice she's running towards me. With a speed I can barely react to I see her arm heading towards me face. Assuming the worst and not able to see the hand to parry I simply block my head with my arms.

The moment they get there, a shock runs through them and I immediately feel the nerve damage and subsequent numbness that attack caused my right arm. I was about to remove my arm from my head to try and shake out the numbness when I see a leg aiming for the same spot.

Quickly bringing them back up to the same spot I hear a crack. Afterwards a pain jabs my arm like being stabbed by thousands of needles. I feel my muscles and skin trying to contain what I presume are the numerous fragments of the bone in my arm. I almost fall to the floor in agony but before I can…

I feel a tugging on my arm. Then I see the world spinning before me. Next thing I know I'm lying down on the floor. Not sure where I currently am I raise my head. I'm greeted with an astonishing sight. I'm quite a distance from the woman and she's not paying the slightest attention to me. Instead she's looking at Marianne and they look almost like lovers staring into each other's eyes.

Of course the atmosphere is significantly more hostile. I can feel the tension in the air and the longing stare is mostly coming from Marianne's direction. The woman's eyes contain just as little emotion as they did before. Yet Marianne also glances at me and her small smile turns to anger.

I attempt to stand knowing that while outmatched I could still be of assistance but one arm can't support my weight and the rest of me appears to decide that's enough to stay down. It's almost as though some instinct is telling me playing dead is better for me and my body is agreeing while my mind is telling me otherwise.

Realizing I'm not going to be a part of this fight I watch on in trepidation as Marianne faces off against this ridiculous woman. I look at her face to watch for any signs of movement and that's when I notice it.

"That's the viper isn't it." I mumble to myself with gritted teeth still baring the pain of being thrown by my broken arm a moment ago.