(Preshow) Registration (Where you Sign up IC)

[Enel]

The Town With No Name is as shitty as ever. The signup station is pretty easy to locate, because it’s the only thing there that doesn’t look like it’s made out of rotting wood. It’s a raised platform with some steps, a loudspeaker and a gigantic sign with the words Dante’s Abyss! and Do you have what it takes to survive?! emblazoned beneath it. It looks like a stage set up to broadcast.

I raise my palm to the attendant as I draw close, indicating my intent to register.

The woman, a neon-redhead with pigtails and a hyperkinetic demeanour, greets me. “Welcome, welcome! Are you here to register?”

“Yes,” I smile. “You have the great pleasure of being the one to recruit God himself.”

“A-hahaha!” She laughs, then sees my face. “Oh… kay then! What shall I put your name down as?”

“Enel.”

She produces a slip of paper. “Please fill this in, with your signature here, here and here.”

More fucking paperwork? “What is it?”

“Just a waiver!” She says cheerfully, “Absolving Syntech of any responsibility should you be maimed, killed, or otherwise humiliated during the course of the competition.”

“Tch.” I sign my name. “And what’s this?” I ask, gesturing to the other.

“Oh, just some questions. It’s to give the audience a picture of who you are, your background, so on, you know, the usual things.”

“You fill it in,” I point. “I’ll answer.”

“Very well! First off, introduce yourself and tell us where you’re from!”

I spread my hands. “My name is Enel, I’m the One True God of the world. Frankly, I’m disgusted that I have to explain to everyone here who I am, but I suppose it’s an opportunity to spread my influence.”

“And where … you’re … from?”

“The sky.”

“I … see …” She scribbles this all down. “So Enel,” she says, with the tone of an overenthusiastic interviewer. “What are your powers?”

I point to behind her. “Is that camera on?”

“It is! But I must ask you not to damage the recording equipment.”

She has a point. The technology of this world doesn’t seem to agree with even low voltages of my power. “Very well.” I spread my palms, creating a rope of sparkling electricity between them. “I am lightning. More than simply control over it, I should be able to transform to and from it at will. But …” I slap my hands back together, nullifying the beam. “Dear Omni has suppressed my powers to some degree. It’s only a matter of time until I regain them all, but … for now, I can’t transform my body into lightning.”

No point telling them about my other abilities. I’d rather keep them a surprise for the other contestants.

“Ohh that’s a shame!” She looks genuinely disappointed. “So that’s your goal, then? To reclaim your power?”

“Tch. No. It’s to kill Omni.”

“Wow!” her eyes light up. “Ambitious!” She hesitated. “D-do you have a plan, or …?”

I scowl. “Well I’ll start by winning this competition. Then I’m going to go take his head.”

She turned to the camera. “Wow! You heard it here first, folks! How far will God Enel get in the competition? We’ll have to see!”

I had the distinct feeling this was all for theatre. “You’d do well to take me seriously, girl,” I say, placing my finger on the back of her skull. I channel just enough electricity to tickle her neurons, and her pigtails stand on end.

She spins around, breaking contact and taking a step back. “R-right! Well, please step right this way, sir!”

She gestures to the doorway behind her. I’d been wondering what the door had been doing, standing by itself like part of a home décor display. But as she gestures with her keycard, the thing swings open and it’s a portal to somewhere else entirely.

I grumble. Omni is such a showboat.