The First Reaction

The library was dark, broken by lances of bright moonlight, and the soft glow of a table lamp upon the only occupied desk in the whole room. Liath sat with a variety of books in various states of completion arrayed around him. He didn’t much feel like being in the Arena, the atmosphere was choking and near enough insufferable following the Yang Xiao Long incident, so he had dedicated himself to studying in the given free time whilst half listening to the fights on his scroll. He had to admit; as large a boast as Port might be he didn’t make for a half bad commentator. The hunters voice echoed around the shadows, filling it with a sense warmth and positivity.

He flicked over to the next page of the book he was currently working through; “ Dust and its applications outside of combat ”, a rather interesting - if dated - read, and it introduced a few concepts that Liath hoped to integrate into his own skillset. He paused, taking a second to watch the fight before moving on. Once more, the prodigal daughter of Mistral was showing her grit in the arena.

“The grace of a dancer and the strength of an Ursa...” He mused, propping his chin up in the palm of his hand, watching as she corkscrewed through the air, dodging the Atlasian girls blades with no small degree of skill. Liath watched her land with his usual half smile, which quickly disappeared. Something was wrong. She looked terrified and disoriented. His brow furrowed as he began to watch with a marked degree more interest, leaning in closer and squinting slightly. An instant later, and copper haired girl was laying in three pieces on the arena floor.

An explosion could have engulfed him at that very moment, and Liath would have done nothing but stare at that little screen. His head span, trying to process the sequence of events: Someone, had just died, on a live event, broadcast to millions all over Remnant.

And then he noticed the sparks, and the remarkable lack of blood and guts.

The screen dimmed, overlaid with blood red with a black queen resting squarely in the middle.

“This, is not a tragedy.” The woman said, the confidence in her silken voice made her words fall with hammer blows. Like many, many others at that moment, Liath listened, lost in the shock of the girls death, completely vulnerable for long few moments.

“ No....not girl....that was a robot. An Atlasian robot, designed to fool everyone... ” The thoughts rang through the slight haze, and everything snapped back into perspective. The woman had moved on, why such a thing might exist and why what happened may have happened. Taking a breath, Liath focused. He continued listening intently to the woman, though with a far more balanced head.

<span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“ <span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:400;font-style:italic;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">She knew all this was going to happen...either through orchestration, or exceptionally well educated guesses..” <span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Liath thought, eyes glued to the screen. “ <span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:400;font-style:italic;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Only way she can talk about all this with such certainty. <span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">” To him, her voice certainly held that golden tone; the one of a person whose plan had fallen perfectly into place, and was simply pushing the domino to start the reaction.

<span style="color:rgb(239,239,239);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;">The womans speech ended, and the voice was replaced by a the scratching of hard static. Loud, grating, designed to raise the hairs on the back of your neck, the tell tale wail of sirens filled the room. Liath sat, staring at the screen, the books ignored as the dim yellow and orange global alert took over his scrolls viewer, the colours dancing on his face. With her final words, she had shook the foundation of trust integral to the operation of the kingdoms and the hunters.

<span style="color:rgb(239,239,239);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;">In an instant he was moving, grabbing his scroll and sending books tumbling off the table. His chair screeched backwards as he stood up, snatching his gloves from the atop a tower of books before setting off at a sprint towards the far doors.

<span style="color:rgb(239,239,239);font-family:Arial;font-size:14.6667px;font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.38;text-align:justify;">His scroll in hand, Liath entered his contact list and quickly selected the one of sparingly few he counted as a friend. Sandwiching the pane of glass between his shoulder and his ear, he pulled his gloves on tight and shouldered the door open hard before taking it into his hand again and continuing on at full speed.

<span style="font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(239,239,239);font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Orion you bastard, you better have your scroll open...”