The dull drone of an alarm was what woke Julia Montnoire up. It was spring break from her high school, so she had gotten into the bad habit of staying up late and sleeping even later. The only reason she changed her pattern today was because of a dream. Yeah, a dream. I know it sounds a little romantic, but Julia was not that kind of person. She just knew that this dream was different. If she didn't listen, bad things would happen. Grabbing some food from the fridge, she walked out the door and made her way to the destination.

The sky was a nasty grey out, with winds whirling the sky. Julia could feel the ominous feeling you get right before a big storm, but for once, that didn't really bother her. She knew that she didn't really have a choice about being out in the park today, so she just accepted it. The bench she sat on was actually quite comfortable, so she really couldn't complain in that regard. The temperature was quite nice as well, and since it wasn't raining yet, it was "nice" out. It would have been nicer if she wasn't waiting for something that she saw in her dream, but at this point, it was too late to complain. She was here and she would have to wait it out. Others were supposedly coming, so she looked around to try and find them. All she saw was some kid out playing, so she sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned back her head. She should have brought something to do as she waited.

Magnus lost the police following him rather early in the morning, and so decided to stop at a cafe in the way to the park, munching slowly on a donut, watching closely at the people passing by his seat at the window. He saw a few people who looked rich, but he knew today was not the day to lay back and simply steal from some unwary businessman. He had only been in Edge City for a month or so, but Magnus spent his first few days here staring at his gps, so he knew his way around.
After his donut was reduced to nothing, Magnus left the rather attractive waitress an absurd tip that sent her eyes popping out of their sockets, and left the cafe, heading for his newly repainted Harley. The sky was dark this particular morning, but Magnus could care less: he had seen much worse than a dark cloud. Bfore setting off to the park he was so curious about, Magnus snapped off one of the various payphones on his belt, and text to his assistant at Opal Corp that he would be on an important quest for knowlege, and he wasn't to be disturbed until further notice. Once the message was sent and the phone was crushed beneath his foot, Magnus felt the time had come to head to the rendez-vous at the park. He snapped off the wheel lock an annoying policeman had put there seconds before, and whipped his leg and cloak over the gleaming beauty of engineering that is a Harley Davidson. Magnus only regretted not designing it himself.
The engine roared and Magnus propelled himself through the morning traffic to the park in question. A few honks and frustrated drivers later, Magnus ripped his motorcycle over the park fence and left it there, heading for the center of the park. A young girl was already there, but he didn't pay much mind to her, and sat oin a rock to wait for what he knew would be sure to come.

Faro was jogging. Err, scouting. He hadn't visited this neighborhood in a bit, and he was looking for a new run. Well, he also had another reason to be there. That creepy dream. Whatever the hell it meant, he wasn't sure.

What was he talking about, what fantasy was he living in if he thought that something would come out of this. OF course, some people thought what he did just existed in fantasy. Eh, whatever, it wasn't like he was gambling anything by showing up. What did he have to lose?

He glanced around at the nearby houses, looking at ways to get to the top if he so desired, stopping often as one stumped him, and eventually giving up on a few. Whatever, the art of Parkour is to get from point A to point B in the least amount of time, not to get over an obstacle. If there's no way over, there is no way over. Then you just go through or under.

Anyways, it was a nice morning, nice and cool and good for this sort of thing. It wasn't humid enough for his ultimate nemesis -dew- to form. More than one injury had been caused due to this vile water, but this morning was blissfully, and surprisingly free of it. In other words, Faro took it to be a good day

Soon he was jogging into the farmiliar park, looking around at the scenery and soon setteling down near two other people. Although settiling down was a relative term. He walked around and paced, just thinking about what might come. Needless to say, these two people being here had gotten Faro excited.

Games.

Everything is a game, a young, pink-haired teen thought as she raised her handgun. She flattened her back against the wall of a dark corridor- a wall she had used as cover. She had turned the corner into a hallway containing three armed men, each seeming eager to put a shot into someone, anyone, other than each other. She held her breath as she peeked around the corner. She saw a flash, and turned back at the very last second. Yep, they'd seen her. But now she knew that the four were alone. She listened to the breath and footfalls of the shooters as they inched their way toward her position, sensing that their prey was trapped.

Little did they know, it was quite the contrary.

Right when the three reached the corner, with no chance of reaching cover, the girl rolled through the hallway to a three-foot barrier located in another adjoining wing. Shots pinged harmlessly behind her as a wide grin spread on her face. Once she had finished her roll, she leapt up and fired her gun rapidly, at point blank range, into the chests of her hunters. Her prey. An array of red and green lights illuminated the dim surroundings as the suits the men were wearing began flashing violently. Then, everything died- the lights on the guns and suits all shut off simultaneously as the lights in the room turned on. The time was up.

As she hung her gear up in the storage room, Leah contemplated the game. Sure, laser-tag was more about having fun than winning, but when it came to ganging up on people in a free-for-all match... that was just intolerable. She thanked the other players (not forgetting to call the three friends 'losers') and left the arcade. She checked the time on a nearby clock. It was almost time for the real game to begin. She strolled over to her crimson moped and started it up. Then she drove to the center of the park. Sure, it wasn't really polite, but there were no strict rules preventing mopeds from driving in the park. There is always a loophole, her father had told her once, before he had come to Edge City to become a lawyer. And they both enjoyed finding them.

She saw that three other people were at the park as she removed the key from the ignition. There was another teen girl, but Leah immediately got the impression that she was a buzzkill and didn't say anything to her. Another was some shady guy in a large black cloak, with a sword taller than her strapped to his back. She tsked. The sword was alright, but the cloak was just tacky. The other was a fair-haired, average looking boy of about her age and height. Still, she didn't really call normal people her aquaintances unless they deserved it. She sat on a park bench and waited for some cooler people to arrive- and she had no doubt that they would.

Benjamin walked up to the door with a bag over his shoulder and knocked three times, took a deep breath, and stood there waiting. Seconds passed, and a woman opened the door..then her jaw dropped and she leapt to embrace her husband. As the two hugged and kissed a young boy walked down the hallway to the door, and upon seeing his father standing there he ran over screaming, "Daddy!" and hugged Ben's leg until he was picked up and the three walked inside.

"We weren't expecting you for months," Lisa Farrow said, still surprised but smiling to see her husband home safe. Ben answered her, "We caught a big break, finished the op sooner than we thought..and I wanted to surprise you." She hugged him again. Chris (their son) had already gone to bed, as it was now about 9:30 PM. The two sat in the kitchen of their small house on the northern end of Edge City. They talked about what had been missed for the last five months, they talked about how neither wanted Benjamin to leave again. Unfortunately, the soldier would have to leave again..they both knew it, they both hated it.

In college, Ben had gotten into a fight with a couple drunk guys walking out of a bar. They were harassing a woman, and Ben stepped in to help..but the beating he gave the two earned him a spot in prison for two years. Being a Good Samaritan wasn't all it was cracked up to be..being punished for what you thought was a good deed. The woman he helped had skipped out on the trial, and practically sent Ben to prison herself. After he got out of prison, Ben found that it was nearly impossible to find a job that could support his wife and son, and so he turned to the military. It was his only option if he wanted to keep food on the table and a roof over his family's heads.

Putting in his life in harm's way just for food was not how Benjamin had pictured his life going. He had high plans and big dreams, dreams he didn't even think about anymore. Now, he was a sniper for Specials Forces and did operations he couldn't..and didn't want to discuss. War was an ugly thing, but it was something that Benjamin knew best.

Around midnight, the two decided to go to bed..and eventually to go to sleep. However, Ben didn't sleep peacefully. He dreamt of a voice with no figure to claim it, telling him of a competition that he would partake in..or die. He was told that if he could win, he would live..and change the life he had for the better. When morning came and Ben awoke, he wasn't sure if it was just a dream or something more. The voice had mentioned a place he was to go..maybe he should go just to check it out?

Ben left a note for his wife, saying he went to town and would be back soon. He dressed himself in blue jeans and a gray t-shirt with dark blue writing that read, "Them or Us", a pro-war apparel that few wore..but Ben wore to pretend that he was okay with the lives he took. It was a perfect facade. Taking a handgun with him, Ben left the house and got into his rental car..and headed to town to the place that voice had told him to be at.

By the time Benjamin got to the park..there were others waiting. Maybe there was something to this after all.

A punch flew through the air and connected painfully with the side of the man's face, but he had expected this.

He was thrown backwards and landed on his back, but he had expected this.

His opponent stepped confidently towards him, the light of victory shining in his eyes. This too, had been expected.

"Never let your guard down," said the man, as he half-rose on his elbow, and delivered a hard kick that connected fully with his opponent's face, flinging him to the side. This was not a good way to go about it, but Tim had to do it, to show his first and only student how cruel the world is. How cruel it can be.

“I'm sorry,” Tim said, and he really meant it, as he offered a hand to his student. He took it and rose, tears of pain in his eyes. Tim put his hand gently on the young man's shoulder, meaning to be comforting, gentle, understanding. “You did well,” he admired, offering a gentle smile. “Much better than I had expected. Just a quick warning before we call it a day though. Never trust anyone. They will fail you.”

“Well,” said Che, his hand slowly going to his cheek as the pain set in. “You could have just told me.”

Tim nodded. “Yes. But you wouldn't have learned. Trust me. My own teacher told me the same many years ago, and I got the lesson just a month before. It sticks in your mind when you experience it first-hand.”

Che nodded, and muttering under his breath, went to remove his Kung Fu clothes. Tim did the same. He needed to sleep. He was so tired today. After having lost his job, the days had begun to continue very slowly, as though the hands of the clock were dragging their feet as they inched forward. Tick, tock, tick, tock... an endless, mocking march of time.

When Tim got back home, he literally flung himself into bed, hoping for a good sleep, but as it always goes with the nights you're very tired, sleep came slowly, and when it came, it caused him a feeling of dread, a prickling sensation that touched its way down his spine when he awoke at midnight. The clock ticked the seconds away, as the voice echoed in his head, again and again, warning him of death, promising him a better future if he were to win. There seemed to be something in the dark, just out of his vision. He sensed something...

After dawn slowly swept in, Tim got up early. He had slept very little last night, chasing shadowy phantoms with his eyes in the darkness. He put on his coat and glasses, and left his small apartment, that had only enough things in it to keep him alive for two more days. He walked aimlessly through the streets, thinking, considering, going through the dream again and again. Finally, a bit later than he should have, he decided to take a chance. There was nothing to lose. And, there was death to reckon with.

He turned around, took a left turn, and walked down the street, carefully entering the park. He was shocked to see others waiting there, and as the fact that this could be just real set in, he could sense that dread, that prickly sensation moving carefully down his spine, like it was going through every inch of his skin. He could feel cold sweat, but he didn't bear look in the eyes of the others waiting there. He nodded politely as he passed each of them, and leaned against the closest tree to the entrance, pretending to take interest in his shoes. But his mind was whirling, caught in a storm that was threatening to drive him mad every moment.

As soon as Blaine finished his breakfast he hurried out of the small apartment he and his mother shared. He had somewhere to be. No matter how true that was, it was still an excuse to get away. Taking the stairs down to street level, he glanced once again at the back of his left hand, and the set of scales imprinted on it. He still did not understand what it all meant.

It had started with a dream about a month previous, a hooded man sat at a table with scales identical to the ones on Blaine's hand sitting before him. The man looked up as Blaine drew near and gestured for him to sit. Then the man began to speak, he spoke about a war between the gods and how it was stopped by their father instituting a tournament. Each of them would imbue a human with a portion of their power and compete. Blaine learned the man was also named Veritas, the God of Truth, and that he had chosen Blaine to be his Avatar in the games. Blaine however instead of competing in the contests would be charged with judging them.
Then last night Veritas again appeared in a dream. "The games will begin tomorrow, in the park. The others will be marked as you have been."

Blaine arrived at the park almost before he realized it. At first he wondered who it was he was supposed to meet when he saw an odd group of people, not exactly together but giving off auras of power. He moved to join them, and sat under a tree where he could watch them all.

Zane awoke in his room as the light from the sun filled his room. He turned to the clock by his bed and the peircing red lights showed ten thirty brightly. "Guess I should go ahead and get ready for this 'game'." The smell of beer stunk up the whole house from a party his brother had thrown the night before. Quitely he changed clothes he put on a white button-up shirt that was trimmed in a dark blue along with a pair of jeans. Before leaving his room he grabbed a black bag that carried his scetch book and several pencils. "Don't want to forget this.".

Appon exiting his room he saw trash and people littering the hallways still fast asleep for lasts night's adventures 'I just don't see the point in stuff like this.' stepping over people and avoiding pools of stuff he rather not know what it is he came across his older brother had fallen asleep on top of the kitchen table with a half empty bottle in his hands. "Hey bro I'm going out for awhile I don't know when I'll be back. Please try not burning the house down." Zane's brother just grunted as a response.

It took several hours for him to make his way to the park due to the fact he decided to scetch his highschool for a while. Once he finally got to the park he saw several others already there waiting. He sat behind the group and pulled out his scetch book and began a new picture while he waited for what ever he was waiting for.

A pair of fists like twin torpedoes blazed from left and right towards Kai's cheeks. Both swept pass the top of his head just as he ducked causing them to connect to the Jaws of the men of whom each fist belonged. Then In one fluid movement he threw a punch into one guy's gut and pulled the elbow of that same arm back hard into the other guys solar plexus. Each thug hit the concrete with loud thuds as if cuing the crowd of hoodlums circling them to erupt in cheers. Howling the loudest and jumping up and down like a wild monkey was Kai's best friend, Chav. Chav was another maori boy who was a couple of years older than Kai. Standing at 5'10" he was much lighter than Kai, but not as handsome. He burst through the crowd full of grins, slapping Kai on the back while praising his skills. They were all in an alley fighting for money. Chav bet the two guys, Jake and Ralo, fifty dollars that Kai could beat both of them without them even laying a finger on him. They'd just won fifty more. Or so they thought.

Ralo charged forward shoving Chav out of the way and throwing a fist at Kai which missed. Kai rebounded by Headbutting Ralo sending him falling back. Ralo caught himself, roaring "This game aint over yet, boy!""

"Game" Kai remembered. The dream came back to him. The gods. The avatars. The Game! What time is it? he thought. Taking the time out to think was a mistake. Catching him off guard Jake pinned Kai's arms behind his back, so that Ralo could continue to punch Kai in his stomach. Chav jumped in which only resulted in Ralo whaling on him and taking the fifty bucks from his pockets as well. Jake smirked and threw the beaten Kai on the ground. The Two of them left together along with the crowd of hoodlums laughing leaving Kai and his companion alone.

"Bloody Bastards!"Chav screamed after them. He got up and went over to check on Kai. When he was finally standing over him, he heard chuckling. "I'm glad ya think its funny that we got cheated, Bub." Chav spat reaching his hand to pull Kai up.

Kai gave his friend a bloody grin and grabbed hold of Chav's wrist. "Doesn't matter, theres a bigger game to worry about"

Chav pulled him up. "what the bloody hell are ya goin on about?"

Kai remembered the rules. "Eh, never mind. Can you give me a ride? I just remembered that I have to be somewhere."

"Umm Sure, why not." Kai got on the back of Chav's bike and the two of them headed off. Chav mostly talked about getting revenge while Kai was just lost in his own thoughts. When they reached their destination the two departed. First Kai found a fountain to wash the rest of the dried blood off his chin. He was still surprisingly clean despite the brawl. He wandered around the park for a while not sure of what he was looking for until he stumbled upon the oddest group of individuals he'd ever seen in his life. He couldn't help but to laugh out loud. Kept laughing until he made eye contact with a cute girl with pink hair and shut up immediately. Something about the way she carried herself her pissed him off. And her hair, he thought, is pink? Eck! After scratching his own messy dark green hair he decided to sit on a rock next to the guy who had a sword strapped to his back. Hoping that maybe he'd get a chance to play with it. Waiting for the game to begin.

As Magnus sat there, he watched as more and more people arrived, each obviously as clueless as he was about what they were looking for, but each stopped near him, waiting for the same thing as him, he assumed. Magnus almost blew a fuse when an impudent girl decided to tisk him, but realized it probably wasn't a good idea, and could penaltize him in this tournemant thing. As the people racked up, Magnus could tell that thgere was nothing obvious that connected them all, but everyone seemed to exert some sort of pressure. Magnus decided that the better option, despite his unease, was to keep his trap shut. He got up, and left this kid sitting there by himself as he pulled his sword off its magnetic strap and smashed it into a thick tree horizontally with just a grunt. He then proceeded to calmly sit on the blade in a flawless siberian thinking pose, not that anyone cared, or even would be able to name the position. Magnus left the world behind and fell into deep thought.

Questions assaulted his mind, passing Tim like a movie being fast-forwarded.

“Why are we here?”
“What is the tournament going to be about?”
“How would someone win? Is it a fight? If so, is it a hand to hand combat?”

He didn't see any weapons earlier when he hastily greeted everyone just for the sake of politeness, but there could always be a knife, hidden in a boot or under a belt, a gun hidden under a coat, or anything.

Thinking back to his many years of training, an involuntary surge of confidence swept over him momentarily. “I can do this,” he said to himself, and somehow it sounded comforting. If nothing else, it helped him do not think of his most important question: “why me?”

These thoughts were what had kept him occupied for the last few minutes, and he had got tired of thinking, tired of questions without answers. This was one of the reasons he looked up. The other reason was... well. He was curious to see how many had come into the park... and whether they had a weapon he could not deal with if it came to fighting. That was when he noticed the two new people, and a flash of metal to his right. As he instinctively stepped to the left, a tree near him was cut in two, and the man he had nodded to earlier nonchalantly sat on the stump. “What the hell,” Tim murmured quietly, “what is this guy about?” And that, was another question without an answer. And to top it off, there was another question. How had he not noticed that sword before? Tim wanted to hit something, or someone, in frustration. He was too confused. Even for his mind, this was too much. What did this disembodied voice in his dream wanted anyway?

Tim realized he was getting desperate and out of control. He sat down at the foot of the tree, looking at all of the people gathered to his left, except the guy with the sword to his right. He gathered up his legs, and put his chin on his knees. As he was looking at those people, all of them being tense and perhaps afraid like him, he inhaled, and with the exhalation, let it all go. He focused on his breathing, stilling his mind so it would not wander anymore. Enough thinking. Now, the time has come for the harder part. Waiting.

Benjamin got out of his car, parking it across the street from the meeting place. Looking both ways, he crossed the street quickly, his left hand resting on the concealed handgun. He didn't yet know what he was getting in to..but he was going to be prepared. The fact that there were others here had to mean something..did it mean that his dream was something more?

It was worth waiting to find out. Ben walked up to where the others were, but didn't say anything. He just studied the others..making sure none of them made a false move. The voice had told him that this was a competition for his life, and that not only would winning save his life, but also change it forever. He could escape the military..Ben didn't let that thought linger. For now, it was a scouting mission..and nothing more.

Still, it all did seem very odd.

The new guy caught Magnus' eye, recently opened due to the new noise in the area. The majority of the group, despite trying to look prepared, were mostly unsure and unready. But this guy was different. Professional. A quick scoping told Magnus that he was fit: muscular but toned, and that a gun, most likely a standard issue semiautomatic, was on his person. Magnus didn't like guns. The speed at which they killed usually left him wanting more, and when there were no more, Magnus got bored. No, swords are just better. Just the fact that this guy had a gun ticked Magnus off, and he decided, against his better judgement, to hold a grudge. Magnus wanted this guy gone. Hoping this could be achieved in the tournement, Magnus kept his emotions contained, and went back into thought.

What....is he?!seeing the Sword guy cut the tree down had utterly stunned him. he couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. He looked around at all the other people. I wonder if they're all like him. Standing at 5'6" Kai hand taken down guys twice his size before, but sword guy was on a whole nother level. Instantly he was more interested in his competitors than he was before. The thought of what kind of monsters that surrounded him right now, was exciting to think about.

Julia slowly faded back to reality. She had fallen dead asleep on the bench in the middle of the park! Not a great place to catch some shut eye, especially considering who exactly was there. Looking around, a really ecclectic group had formed, and they were all waiting, as obvious as she was herself. There was a guy seperated from the group, and apparently in thought. Then there was a guy sitting on a stump that she was 100% sure was a tree when she went to sleep. Who else... Oh! A creepy pink-haired girl was there, and there was a pacific islander sitting up on a rock. There was also some athletic looking guy pacing nearby, and then two more normal looking people around as well. That was, what, 9 people? Was that it? Suddenly, the tenth person there decided speak up. It was the kid she had seen earlier.

"Well, some of you all might not be here, but I won't wait forever. Welcome, everyone, to the game that will decide the fate of gods. Glad you 9 at least made it on time." Julia was hearing him, but her mind was still processing something. Why was a kid saying all this. He couldn't possibly be involved, right? Sure, he had blue hair and was a bit strange, but still, a kid? "I know some of you might think I am just saying random things, but..." Suddenly, he went from being on the ground in between them all to being on a tall rock to one side, still saying, "but as you can see, I'm not. I'll be one of the judges. My name is Seven. The other judge is down there with you. His name is Blaine Reid. Any questions so far?"

Ben got closer to the group, but still hung back a ways. He was unsettled by a young man on a stump glaring at him..and a bit more unsettled by the sword. For a moment his hand tensed on the sidearm..but he relaxed. No melee weapon could reach him before he had drawn the gun and emptied the chamber into the man's chest, and so there was no need for caution as of now. Still, Ben felt very cautious about the whole ordeal.

Then, a young boy began to speak about a competition and the fates of some gods. Ben didn't understand. It seemed like foolishness at first..but the fact that his dream had led him here....it made this too coincidental to just be a hoax. Maybe Ben really had been chosen for something...that meant that everyone else here was his enemy, including the man with the sword who already seemed to dislike him. At that moment, Ben settled into a grave assurance. He would do anything to make it out of this alive.

“Oh, perfect, just perfect,” Tim murmured as he got to his feet and came closer to the group. After casting his glance about, partly to make sure no knife was being thrown at his back, he opened his mouth and began to speak to the boy.

“What is the competition for?” He asked, then paused, as if considering. After a second or so he continued, “more specifically, what are we contending for? How are we contending for it? And also, what is the price of failure?”

The answers to some of his questions were told to him in his dream, but... well, that was a dream. And all that aside, he needed face-to-face answers from a human, not some God. He had trouble believing in just one God, let alone ten of them. But if there was a God, that gave him someone responsible for all the troubles he had gotten in his life, someone responsible for creating beings called humans to kill and murder each other just for some competition. And what kind of god, if God was what they told him about in school, was bored enough to ask for a competition? What were Gods, spectators betting on gladiators?

With a mighty effort, Tim stopped his mind from thinking about these things. If the boy repeated everything as he was told in his dream, he was caught up in a game of boredom, and there were two ways to leave, for someone who came with neither a gun, nor a sword, just bare hands. Dying, and dying. That made him feel... grim, though. And angry. He'd go if he must, yes. But he'd take as many with him as he could. If those stupid, gladiator-watching, betting spectators—also known as Gods—wanted a fight to the death, he would give them a fight to the death. One that would capture their eye and would make them forget about betting. If these Gods can bet, so can they be awestruck. He'll make them be just that. Awestruck.

Magnus looked at the boy, and wondered how he could have not noticed his presence before: it seemed so commanding now. Even before the boy aparated, Magnus new something was wrong, and now he was sure this thing was no boy. Seven, as he called himself, was not human.
Magnus now knew this was an event worth waiting for, that this would be a new chapter in his life. Magnus had never had a thrill like this before.
Magnus was suprised to see a normal looking guy get up and ask questions first, as he'd believed that it would take everyone longer to accept the ireality, or at least the questioning of the reality they'd lived with, than it seemed to have. Magnus imagined they also had recieved two dreams, and so had been questions themselves since then, as had he.
As the man waited for the answer to his foolish questions, Magnus thanked the gods for the new thrill they introduced to his life, clipped his sword to his mag-strap, and prepared to face any obstacle to the top of the tournement.

Faro stopped pacing as he saw everybody around him snap their attention to the boy that was now talking. Well, snap being a relative term as the girl that was sitting on the bench had apparently fallen asleep. But soon he turned to see what their attention was on, completely missing the first part of whatever they were paying attention to. But when he finally located the sound of the voice that was talking to them he saw the kid, whom he had honestly paid no attention to, standing up on a tall rock. Soon he heard the guy talking about judges and motioning to another guy with them saying he was another judge. For this... was it appropriate to call it game? Eh... whatever

But everybody started reacting to what he was saying and a few started to ask questions. On the other hand, Faro walked toward the kid and said the first thing that came to his mind... not that that was any different than what he normally did.

"Seven, was it? Really? Come on, kid, Seven is a number! I'll call you... Sven. Cool?"

Seven half smiled at the obvious question. "Listen, when you get dreams from the gods, it is generally best to listen to them If you need it reiterated, I will tell you. This competition determines which of the gods will lead the pantheon. Each of you was selected by a god as someone they thought could win the competition for them. Of course, normal people would probably not care about what gods wanted, so there is an incentive for the player as well. You will, as implausible as it sounds, be granted some form of wish. This wish can be anything at all. The gods will fulfill it. There is no exact price for failing, however. Please be aware, though, not caring about the game could get you injured or killed. Oh, that reminds me of something.

"I still need to tell you the rules. First off, don't tell people outside of the game about what you are doing. That should be pretty self-explanatory, but every time, someone tries to use outside help. Second, there will be only one winner. I don't quite understand why something this obvious is included, but it was, so there is some reason. Third, there is no penalty for killing and dying. Let me elaborate on this one. When they say this, they don't mean to go around killing the other players. That is a no. What they mean is that accidents happen, and should you accidentally kill another player, you won't be disqualified. But, again, don't go killing them on purpose. I know some of you would do it. The fourth rule is that you will also follow any rules given for that challenge just as you follow the main rules. Standard. And this is followed by the unwritten rule five; these rules are subject to change at any time. Likely, they will change more than once, so stay on your toes. Now, any more questions, or can we get this thing started?"

Suddenly, he scowled a little at the energetic man who had spoken to him after. "I am aware that Seven is a number. And I don't care what you call me, honestly. Call me puff the magic dragon for all I care. Can we begin, though?"

Magnus absorbed the information at hand, and understood the rules. The best part was that killing opponents was allowed. The boy said that you could accidently kill someone, but noone kills accidentally. The rule was clear: avoid it, but you can. Magnus grinned. He loved rules: they could be bent, folded, and smoked like tabacco. Rules were his drug, and he'djust been fed a few from the gods! Life seemed to smile today, or at least it did from Magnus' point of view.
Magnus then let his curiousity get the best of him, and walked up to the boy.
"Sure, let us begin this game." Magnus says "But first, what are you? You're not human, as we can tell, but you don't seem to be godly, either."
Then, another thought invaded Magnus' mind, an he grinned. "And were can I get powers like that?"

Faro smiled at the kid's sarcastic comment "Hey, I'll take you at your word, kid. Get ready to respond to anything from Puff to 'Hey You'!" and with that he turned his head to see the other dude that had been talking and had walked up toward him and Sven. Man, this guy was creeping him out. This guy had already tried to pick a fight with someone, and now was looking at this kid like he was Hyde... And there was no Jeckell. Oh, and this isn't even to mention going all Conan the Barbarian on some tree with a giant freaking sword.

All in all, this guy seemed a little too far off his rocker for Faro, which was saying something coming from someone who jumps over potentialy severly injuring (or if he could find it and be confident about it, fatal) gaps. But the rest of these people weren't exactly reassuring either. Well, it didn't really matter if it was a competition, although, quite honestly Faro's adrenelin was pumping about this. He knew if it was a fight, he would be screwed, he would just have to be sure he was the last one standing, and to do that he only had to take out one person.

God (Or Gods as it appeared to be here) he would have thought he was nuts if that same thought went through his mind.

Although, he had to say, as rediculous as this was it was exciting. He would need to think about that wish...

Ha, again rediculous that would seem nuts just an hour or so ago.

Tim nodded mutely. The boy seemed to just read his mind. Either that, or he had been in so many of these competitions that he knew what people thought, what people meant, and what they were going to do next. Tim fell into his own thoughts, and half-listened to Magnus' questions. He was thinking about his wishes. Which one should he pick? He decided to think about it when the time came. That meant, frankly, that he should try to avoid getting killed for now. The wishes would come later.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Magnus asked an interesting question. Where could one get such powers indeed? Winning a competition? Had this person won the competition once, many years ago?

Tim nodded mutely. The boy seemed to just read his mind. Either that, or he had been in so many of these competitions that he knew what people thought, what people meant, and what they were going to do next. Tim fell into his own thoughts, and half-listened to Magnus' questions. He was thinking about his wishes. Which one should he pick? He decided to think about it when the time came. That meant, frankly, that he should try to avoid getting killed for now. The wishes would come later.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Magnus asked an interesting question. Where could one get such powers indeed? Winning a competition? Had this person won the competition once, many years ago?

Seven shook his head and sighed. "First off, I am 100% human. What the hell do I look like other than human? And second, you don't. You might get some powers, but you will have to figure it out on your own, just like everyone else. At any rate, I think it is high time we began. The first contest is simple; it will be a race across the city. Get from here, West Park, to East Park as fast as you can. You will have to cross the river, but I am sure you can handle it. There might be a few obstacles along the way, but that is your problem, not mine. Are you all ready? On your marks... Get set... GO!!"

Everyone took off. The games had begun!