Hao Jian strode through the streets of the arena. In his left hand he held the full Tier 1 Silver Net, formed of a total of six Symbiotes within his hand and fingers, assisted by Kinetic-type enforcer Symbiotes in his arm. In his right hand and arm, the Spectral Claw, a powerful and versatile form of attack, was formed from another group of eight Symbiotes. Orbiting his body were his two quasi-Artifact flying swords.

Through Jian's body there were a total of 30 Nodes, 8 Major and 22 Minor, all humming together; a complete internal system. His Aptitude was above A. He was ready to push for Tier 2 at any time, but had chosen to wait out of expectation there might be a Tournament like this. With the Symbiotes his father had given to him he was unstoppable within this tournament.

He heard a zipping, buzzing noise, and experienced a small loss of Oma as his Silver Net worked. Via Soul Sense he felt pieces of metal passing at ridiculous speed through the air around him, swerving to avoid his form, come and gone in an instant. He glanced and saw the culprit, some half-metal, half-flesh barbarian woman leaning out a window, holding one of their tubular "guns." A series of rapid cracking noises and flashes of light from the end of it told him she was attacking him.

His Soul Sense darted at her, and she didn't even appear to notice. She didn't even have a Soul. He smirked, shaking his head. Pitiful.

His right hand flexed, the Spectral Claw activating, and a great shimmering white claw flashed into existence around her. It snapped closed. He saw sparks and heard a grinding, heard her cry out in pain. Sneering, he flexed his hand again, and again. Blue light flashed as she vanished, "dead."

He snorted.

A moment later, he felt ripples through the Aura that alerted him to something actually dangerous. A Cultivator rounded a corner, and was instantly on the attack. The man dashed at Jian, a pair of flying swords launching into the air either side of him as his Soul Sense extended.

Jian simply turned and gestured. On the end of his lengthy Soul Sense tendril there unfurled the spiritual claws of the Spectral Claw. He slashed at his enemy, whose eyes widened in shock as he attempted to dodge and to defend with Soul Sense, his flying swords moving up to receive the blow. The Cultivator knew it would be a strong hit and thus threw the swords up with all the strength his Soul could muster.

But Jian was ready for the predictable defence, and simply twisted his own Soul Sense. The Spectral Claw abruptly darted to the side then swooped back, avoiding the blades to carve through the Soul Sense guiding them like a Windshearer through flesh. The blades fell from the air as their guidance was lost. The Cultivator ran but not fast enough, for the Spectral Claw moved at the speed of Jian's Soul Sense.

It tore through the Cultivator in one and he was gone with another flash of blue. Jian hadn't even needed to use his own flying swords.

Jian smiled. Truly, there were none who could stand against him.

The Spectral Claw was one of the top tier Symbiote combinations at the First Tier of Foundation, and even the next tiers, if upgraded. During the Foundation Realm Soul Sense combat was key, and the Spectral Claw was an attack that was equally effective against Soul Sense as it was against flesh. As it was an Art attached to the end of a Soul Sense tendril, it was also very quick to manoeuvre—faster than a flying sword, as his latest victim had just discovered.

The Silver Net was considered far less useful, but after his clan's encounters with these barbarians they had learned that it was unsurpassed at defending against their weapons.

The Hao clan had yet to encounter a barbarian weapon that could pass through the defence. His father had told him to be wary, because in this Tournament they had expected to meet more dangerous barbarians.

But all those he had encountered so far used almost exactly the same attacks as those his clan had so easily defeated. They shot with these "guns" from a distance, unaware that their favoured weapon was of no use. By the time they realised, it was too late.

As to the Cultivators, with the Spectral Claw Jian didn't anticipate any issues; even though he was technically not able to fight against them at maximum effectiveness. Normally he would have a different defensive Symbiote, one better suited for fighting his peers, but with the overwhelming might of the Spectral Claw he could afford to go without. He'd learned it was slightly less effective against the barbarians, whose bodies tended to be tougher. But with him protected by the Silver Net, and them unable to fight back spiritually, he was able to strike however many times was necessary to put one down. Even against barbarians, he'd yet to need more than three strikes.

He activated the Symbiotes in his legs, which shimmered as faint leaf-shaped outlines appeared around him. He sprang upwards, his foot gently touching down on the first, and it pushed him in a gentle rise into the sky. Moving in a series of elegant stepping motions on subsequent leaves, he made his way higher up until he reached the top of a building and stepped onto it.

A barbarian turned, surprised, and immediately fired at Jian. Jian walked toward the man as the hail of metal parted around him, watching the faint flickers of their movement in the air around him. The man stopped firing and stared at him, an expression of utter shock on his face.

Jian, smirking, raised his hand, and the Spectral Claw rose above the man. His smirk widened into a grin as he dropped his arm and the Spectral Claw slashed down.

He didn't even bother to look at the flash of blue that told of another kill, as effortless as all the rest. Instead his gaze rose to take in the gigantic screens arrayed around the arena. Many of these showed him. Jian looked down to take in the crowd filling the stands around the arena. Doubtless all eyes were on him. He raised his hand once more, the Spectral Claw rising above him like a banner, and heard an approving roar. He chuckled at the sight of himself in all those screens, hand raised.

After a moment he allowed his hand to fall. He pulled his eyes from the glorious sight of himself to scan the other screens, quickly moving through them as he dismissed one after another.

He was looking for one thing only. Any sign of another prodigy; someone from a powerful clan like himself, with a full internal system and Symbiotes on par with his own. That was the kind of individual he would end up facing at the end of this, not one of these barbarians or some lone Cultivator.

But skimming through what was available, he saw no other prodigy. Instead, his eyes fell on a group of screens that all displayed the same individual.

A barbarian who was moving through the arena with great speed, and wherever he went people vanished in flashes of blue.

Jian's eyebrows drew together. This barbarian was on another level. In only the seconds he had been observing, the man had already taken out a pair of Cultivators.

The barbarian appeared to be using Symbiotes. Jian had seen this before, of course, but only in minor ways. But this one looked almost like a Cultivator. He was using Symbiote Jian possessed, too—the Grasping and Repulsive Fingers. They were part of the makeup of the Spectral Claw. He had a hand shield and a burst shield. There was what looked like a large sword wrapped in what could only be spirit dampening cloth on his back. Doubtless an Artifact of some kind. In his hands he held a monstrous gun, the largest Jian had yet seen.

Some strange and profane fusion of barbarian technology, Symbiotes and Imbued…

'Hmph.' Jian snorted, telling himself it was nothing impressive. The barbarian was using a weapon similar as the others, it was just larger in scale. The Silver Net would certainly deal with it just as easily.

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This barbarian was just a little stronger than the rest, that was all. There was no prodigy from another clan here, either. His victory was inevitable.

Still, he might as well go and remove this individual. He'd like to ensure that only he stood out in the next stages, so that all could look upon him know he was unsurpassed, the mightiest in his tier.

###

Nicolai flowed through the arena. The dark was pulsing through him, and maintaining the balance was increasingly difficult. But with the Blade on his back, a weight of Heavenly energy, he remained comfortably in control.

And so he was able to simply move as his instincts and skills bid him. The Dark was a Module which linked in with the others, giving him an edge above what was natural.

The shadows on a corner of the street twisted oddly, and he was ready when a Cultivator, creeping with Soul Sense shelled, turned the corner. A .50 cal round was there to catch her between the eyes the moment she poked her head around the corner, and she disappeared in a twinkling of blue light.

He felt the heat of danger from below and was already throwing himself into the air when the ground shifted and turned to mud that grasped where his feet had been. His newly higher point of view showed him the culprit, a Cultivator peering out a window, arm raised, Soul Sense diving into the ground and out of view, eyes widening as the anti-material rifle centred on him. Another shot, another kill.

He slingshotting himself upwards. Before arriving atop the building he paused. The shadows whispered of a trap.

A timed grenade blew up the hunter killer drones waiting for him, then he was flipping over the roof, exchanging fire with the Earthborn waiting there. Nicolai had a shield and the man did not, and the exchange was won in an instant.

And he kept going. He was no longer Nicolai, but neither was he Zero-Twelve, not exactly. He was some merging, some being designed only to hunt and kill, a missile guided by centuries of experience alongside raw instinct and finally the Dark and the strange insights it gave him.

As the numbers of combatants had thinned, so the Local interference had begun to fade. So much so that now he could use drones within a hundred metres. He had some posted above, through which the Modules were keeping track of the screens above, a useful source of information which they had used to create a map of the entire arena. They also tracked any more dangerous combatants.

One such was coming in his direction. A Cultivator who was second in kills only to himself.

Someone worthy of fighting.

His course changed and he sped to meet the coming threat.

###

Above, those watching stirred.

'They're going to fight,' came the mutters. 'Look. They see one other.'

'This should be interesting.'

'The barbarian stands no chance… his weapon is on the same tier as the others. Don't get excited.'

'Shut up primitive, our boy won't break a sweat! He's taken out more meat than a cleanup crew!'

Soon shouts and jeers were being exchanged through the stands, through which individuals from both sides were evenly dispersed.

As Tournament One was the first scheduled, it was being watched by many. Tournaments Two and Three wouldn't begin until later, and thus many of those signed up for the other Tournaments were in the stands; they hoped to better understand what to expect from their otherworldly opponents by watching these lower level battles.

The calls faded as the the viewers settled in, watching the screens closely.

###

Nicolai aimed down the scope, in position on a rooftop. The Cultivator was visible, approaching in plain sight.

He had calmed himself, reached for the energies of the Blade on his back. Though it was covered by the Spirit Dampening cloth, with it so close to his body it kind of reached through the barrier, and thus he was still able to use the benefits of the Angelic Energy within it. Now was not a time for battle madness, but for careful thought and calculation.

He knew that this man had a very interesting Symbiote or collection of Symbiotes, one that led bullets off course. He'd seen it in the screens.

His opponent was now simply running towards him, stepping on floating leaves that appeared beneath his feet. His two swords had come to roost in the sheaths on his hip, and none of the leaves moved to form barriers.

The Cultivator was completely exposed, walking through the air. He was utterly confident. He was inviting Nicolai to shoot, to prove that his weapon was as ineffective as any other.

Nicolai did as he was bid. He squeezed the trigger, felt the M99 move against him, and observed as the .50 cal round swerved just off target. Through his bionic eye, zooming in closely, he saw clearly as the Cultivator's face split in a huge smug smile.

He reloaded the M99 then stowed it in his storage, taking hold of his assault rifle. It was better suited for the tests he had in mind.

A full-auto spray of rounds was delivered to the target's rough position. Nicolai and the Modules observed that any bullets which would either hit the target or come within approximately two feet of him, were redirected. He also noted they were redirected at a wider angle than the .50 cal had been.

With his Cultivators eyes, he saw a faint silvery shimmer around the man, almost like a net. This was what was catching and redirecting the bullets, and its size and shape matched up with the redirections. Something of note, was that it had clearly struggled a more to redirect the .50 cal round than the lighter 7.62 fired from the assault rifle. Presumably the weightier bullet, possessing more kinetic mass, was a little harder to redirect. Based on that, he guessed that if the bullet was even heavier and going even faster, the Symbiote might fail to redirect it entirely, or at least not enough for the bullet to avoid the user. He didn't have access to any weapon so powerful, however.

He also saw the enemies Soul Sense. It was a long tendril with something very dangerous looking on the end.

He couldn't allow this enemy to come into Soul Sense range. Currently the Cultivator wasn't moving particularly fast, just stepping easily from leaf-to-leaf, but in Nicolai's view it was always best to assume that one's opponent was capable of more than they showed; that way any surprises were more likely to be pleasant, than unpleasant. In this case, he'd assume the man could move twice as fast as him.

After a brief flurry of movements—movements he made to look panicked, the frantic movements of a man sensing defeat—he retreated. Grasping Finger and Pegasi rings aided his own speeding legs, as he flashed over the rooftop, seized the end of it and vaulted into the air.

Behind, with cameras and Soul Sense, he saw his opponent dart forward, too. He leapt off from his leaves, laughing, and threw out that great spiritual claw. It slammed into the roof where Nicolai had been, generating a sharp cracking sound and a flurry of dust, leaving great claw marks in the stone. After sliding backwards it seized on the railing and the Cultivator heaved with the spiritual arm, launching himself forward.

The motion looked very similar, practically identical, in fact, to the one Nicolai used with his own Grasping Finger. Through the ripples in the air Nicolai made out one he recognised well. Whatever that great claw was, one of its components was a Grasping Finger—he felt sure of it.

The Cultivator came after him, laughing, and Nicolai fled. Alas, the man didn't land where Nicolai had been. He kept in the air, launching himself with the claw, landing and running on his floating leaves which floated around him.

Shame. In his flurry of supposedly panicked movements before retreating, Nicolai had dropped a pair of link-enabled grenades. Had the Cultivator landed in the spot where he'd been, he'd have detonated both over Local, and seen whether his opponent's anti-bullet defence also worked against grenades he was literally standing on.

That was the strategy that had immediately come to his mind, and already he was plotting out a route through the buildings around him that would give him more opportunities to hit his pursuer with grenades and other traps.

He took aim at the building ahead of him, and a burst of 7.62 rounds smashed a large window. His course adjusted to head towards it. If the Cultivator followed him into the building, the man's movements would become more linear and predictable, easier to hit with traps. He could make out the Cultivator's gleeful laughter as the man followed, looking to be in no particular hurry. Enjoying the game, convinced he was untouchable.

Alas, as Nicolai sailed towards the smashed window a great chime sounded, echoing through the arena. Abruptly he found himself surrounded by a ball of blue light.

He saw the Cultivator likewise surrounded by such an orb, and more orbs throughout the area.

Thirty two combatants remain. Round 1 of Tournament One has ended.

He heard more distant laughter.

'Lucky break for you, barbarian! I'll see you later!' the Cultivator called out.

Their blue orbs were now rising up into the air, as they were transported from the arena.

The Cultivator was right, it was a lucky break. But he didn't appear to recognise how very significant this sudden cessation of combat was, or he would be much less flippant. Nicolai had been in a difficult position there. The traps were the only method he'd come up with and he didn't even know how effective it would be—he could see the Cultivator had a Skin Shield, too, alongside his anti-bullet defence. Not to mention, he'd only have one chance to hit the man with such an attack, as if it failed the Cultivator would be unlucky to fall for it twice.

It would take time and testing to work out a better way to deal with the Cultivator's defence… and that was exactly what he'd just been given. If the Cultivator had been able to pursue and catch up with Nicolai, and prove capable of surviving or spotting the grenades, he could have knocked him out of the Tournament then and there, or forced Nicolai to go for the Blade—something he was loath to do.

But the next time they met, he wouldn't need to take shots at the Cultivator to test his defences. He wouldn't need to rely on the uncertainty of leading his opponent into traps he wasn't sure would work. Nor would he need the Blade. The next time they met, he would know exactly how he was going to win.

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