Zone C -- Megacity One

[Enel]

The device explodes and for a second I think it was some kind of flashbang, because everything’s gone white. But after a couple of furious blinks, I see that the clown is still there.

Huh. Is this like … the Nexus? The fuck, Batman? How did you make this? This isn’t a bat-power.

My opponent seems equally confused. “The fuck …”

I take this opportunity to throw a bolt of lightning at his face. It blows up, and he staggers backwards.

“The hell, man?!”

I throw another one. This time he’s smart enough to duck.

“Yo, stop throwing lightning at me! You’re supposed to, like, give a speech or somethin’ first. About how you’re God and you’re gonna kill me or some shit, I dunno.”

I grimace.

Then I start. “How about this. I gave you an offer. God himself gave you an offer, and you refused it.”

I fire another bolt, and he yells wildly as he half-falls, half-cartwheels out of the way.

“When you refused my offer, you insulted me.” I fire another bolt. “You insulted me to think that I wouldn’t chase you to the ends of the earth to kill you.” I fire again. “I do not.” Blam. “Forgive.” Blam. “Such impudence.” Blam.

Clown boy coughs, inbetween the smoke of the bolts. “Damn, B,” he rumbles. “You need to chill out. Just smoke a bowl or somethin’.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”

“Just smoke a bowl. Here.” A smile crosses his face. “Catch.”

I know what he’s going to do even before he’s finished summoning the bomb to his hand. So I rush forward, bracing my staff. He can’t use his bomb against me in melee.

Mantra.

He throws the bomb … down?

By the moment the image has flashed into my head, I’m already too close to him to stop. I pitch my feet against the ground and brace for the explosion.

But … it never comes. Instead, a wave of smoke floats over me. Like … like a wondrous wave of pleasure. I giggle. My limbs feel all heavy and … fancy. This is good shit.

The clown man spreads his lips, baring that toothy grin. “Now you get it, man.”

I grin back at him. “Man, I was about to hit you.” I chuckle. What a stupid thought.

He coughs through the smoke, and summons two clubs to his hands. “Sorry I gotta do this, man. But you’re kind of a dick.”

Huh?

He cracks both clubs down upon my skull and I feel my my legs sink beneath me, unceremoniously dropping me to the ground and smashing my chin against the floor. Ba-dunk.

My skull rattles around in my head. Fucking God Damn! That hurt! What the hell was  I doing just now? Getting high?! Get your shit together, man!

Before I even can, he swings his bat at me again. But the pain has reawaken my senses, and I get the half-second’s warning to bring my forearm up to block it. It still hurts, but it gives me a second to headbutt him back. Yeah, headbutt. Sometimes even a God has to do things the low-down dirty way.

I follow up with a jab to his left pectoral, which sends him staggering back with a hiss, then a right hook, which he soaks up with his shoulder. I can see the pain in his expression as he staggers back. Yeah, I don’t think you’re doped up enough not to feel that one, boy.

I throw my hand forward and wreathe him in lightning. Heh. It’s a sight to see, watching him spasm and judder like he’s having the most painful orgasm of his life. I relinquish the shocks just to watch him for a while. After all, I want to enjoy this.

A few seconds later and he’s still juddering, sparks running up and down his body. Eh? Did I unlock some new move or something? My lightning doesn’t usually linger that long. Also, why is it purple?

I get a flash-forward that explains everything. Ah, shit.

“My turn, motherfucker!” he exclaims, thrusting his hips forward and exploding with lightning. For the second time in my life, I find myself feeling  what it’s like to get shocked with my own electricity. It’s excruciating. I can’t even control myself, can’t stop myself from hitting the floor. Again.

And I hate it.

I stand up, and he’s got that look on his face like he just found a ten-bag in his pocket. Not funny.

“You know, kid,” I say. “I kinda liked you. You’ve got spunk. You’re not as boring as everyone else in this competition.”

“Thanks!” he says.

“But!” I interject. “You don’t shock the lightning God. You just don’t.”