The Game
She had a head of pale green hair, a product of her Manifestation like Fate's eyes were, and skin of a healthy pink. Her brown eyes were hard with defiance, but she couldn't hide the faint sheen of fear within their depths.
Like Fate, her torso lacked a shirt, although a cloth wound around her breasts and back to hide her decency. Her legs were covered in heavy-duty blue jeans. Her bound arms were as lean and muscular as a typical athlete, much like Fate's, and her belly was toned from exercise.
Hovering in the air next to her head was a blue, basketball-sized cube with a barrel protruding out, pointed directly at her temple. From the bottom and other sides of the cube, small pipes denoted the propulsion system used to keep it afloat.
Situated just above the barrel and on its side facing Fate were camera lenses that clicked and whirred, capturing all of the 'juicy action' that was going to go down. It was covered in scratches, perhaps from the woman's Manifest Power.
Fate recognized the name to be from the Vedavo Family, a prominent group in Crexya with abundant Air Embodiments, along with the typical Power Embodiments of every major family.
They were part of the Five, those who governed the nation and were responsible for the judicial system along with the Wyand Family of Water and Ice. They were known for their level heads and ability to adapt to any situation, much like the Wyands.
Her familial background also explained her lack of a shirt. The Vedavo Family were staunch believers in "feeling the wind on your skin." Supposedly, it made them more in tune with the air around them and helped them progress through their Levels faster. If anything, it was surprising that she wasn't in shorts as well.
As Fate sized the woman up, she did the same with him. Neither one was particularly impressed with what they saw.
"So, oh grand juror," Fate said sarcastically, "what are our crimes?"
"I'd like to know as well," said Seri with a displeased expression. She was surprisingly calm for someone with a gun pointed at her head. "It is my family's job to pass judgment. You have no place to do so."
"Ah, but it was your family that wrongfully locked me away for twelve years before my escape," the masked man said with a touch of a smile audible in his words. Rather than angry or spiteful, he just sounded amused. "Now I expose those who truly deserve punishment, something your family is inept at."
"I don't know," Fate butted in. "Judging by this whole situation, you belonged in that cell you broke out of. You realize you're batshit insane, right?"
The Azure Anarchist let loose a hearty cackle, wiping the spot where his eyes were supposed to be on his mask as he regained his composure.
"Everyone always says that," the madman chuckled. "Isn't it obvious that what I do is for the good of humanity?"
"Just get on with it, I don't want to hear your self-righteous bullshit," Fate said. Torture was starting to sound more appealing than this ridiculous talk.
"Fine, fine, fine." The masked man cleared his throat, widening his shoulders and adopting a heavy air as he explained the 'game.'
"That cube there, next to miss Vedavo, is ready to shoot her in the head," the man told them. "Fate, as I'm sure you can feel, there's an X-shaped piece of metal directly against your scar that's currently giving off some pleasant heat.
"That heat is going to increase throughout this game, until eventually capping at 170 degrees. I plan to avoid your death if I can help it, but Prodigy flesh is tricky to deal with. All you need to know is that this will be extremely painful."
"Where exactly is the 'game' part of this game?" Fate asked, stamping down the trepidation trying to build within him. He had to admit, that sounded horrifying.
"I was getting to that," the Azure Anarchist said frustratedly, much like the college professor he sounded like would do. "You, last-nameless Fate, have two options before you.
"One," the man said dramatically, holding up his pointer finger. "You endure this pain for… let's say three hours. Do this, and both of you go free. If you live, of course. A harrowing experience in exchange for another's life.
"Two," he enunciated, middle finger raising and joining the first. "You say five words. Say these five words, and Seri Vedavo dies. It will be a quick, painless death, brought about by the cube with the gun you see hovering around her head.
"The five words you must say are now on the screen for you and the viewers at home to read."
The mirror flickered, and the five promised words appeared. They were written in bold red letters, blocky and large, situated so they were just below Seri's chin from Fate's perspective.
'I AM A BAD PERSON.'
"Alright, the test starts now. Enjoy the heat. And to everyone at home, enjoy the show!" The Azure Anarchist's picture disappeared with a wave to the camera and the two were left alone with each other.
Fate waited for the heat to turn up…
Only for nothing to happen.
"So it's going to be gradual, then," Fate deduced. "Wonderful. He probably expects me to give in out of dread or something. What say you, stranger? How'd you get in this mess?"
"Just say the words and get it over with," she said calmly. "We both know you'll cave later. Save us both the hassle and drop the sword above my head."
"Not a chance." Fate tried to shake his head, only to remember that he was strapped down in a way that prevented him from moving in any way. So instead, he opted for an eye roll. "I'm a spiteful guy. This asshole thinks he can break me, so I'm going to sit, er, stand here and prove him wrong."
"Spite isn't enough," Seri scolded. "I know well that if I were in your position, I would break within an hour."
"But you aren't me. And I'm not saying those words even if it means bursting into flames on a live stream. So you better start talking, because this will be a boring-ass three hours otherwise."