Chapter 28 - Betrayal

"Are you Titus?" A boy sporting a Blue armband asked loudly as he ran towards the group a second before they took a single step through the open gateway and onto the arena sands.

Titus turned with a bemused look on his face to see the Blue-Ranker approaching, his short dark hair matted with sweat and his eyes wide.

"That's me," Titus said without missing a beat.

"Thank The God of Balance I'm just in time! Miss Kane said she needs you right now; it's important!"

"But I'm about to head out there for our fight," Titus said.

"She said to send out Petra and Jordan, but to bring you back to her… It sounded really important. She said there’d be time, that the crowd would wait."

The boy was clearly flustered, most probably having sprinted to catch the group before they began their fight.

Titus frowned and turned to his friends. "If it's important…" he started. "Just wait for me, don't let them start without me, alright?"

"Go," Petra ordered. "But you better run. You know not to keep a woman waiting."

"Or me," Jordan said.

"I was talking about you," Petra said.

Jordan frowned.

Titus didn't have time to argue about whose feelings were being hurt and turned to follow the boy, who he discovered was called Ferris upon further inspection.

"Where are we going?" Titus asked as he started to run behind Ferris, following his lead.

"Just this way, it's not far," Ferris replied. "I don't know what it's about, but Miss Kane said you'd know and to bring you as quickly as I can!"

Those words sent a shiver down Titus' spine. There was only one thing that he and Miss Kane shared that nobody else was supposed to know, and that was the existence of his special, secret Capacitor Class. If someone else knew about it, then he was about to be in for a very different time in the Arena. Of course he couldn't ask Ferris if that's what it was about, instead choosing to keep his mouth shut now until he was alone with the Grandmaster.

The pair ran through the catacombs below the arena sands, through hallways, down stone steps, and past hundreds of doors and after just a few minutes Titus had no idea where he was.

Titus felt like he recognised at least some of the rooms as they ran, though many of them were almost identical. But he did get the impression he'd been here before at one point or another.

It was when he was at the bottom of a long stone staircase did he remember that he had, in fact, been to this place before, because it was the dungeon that Henderson had taken him and Petra to where he'd almost been gored by the Deadlands Boar.

"Hey, this is…" Titus called out to Ferris, but only then did he realise that since he'd reached the bottom of the staircase, he was no longer able to see the boy through the darkness.

"Ferris! I can't see you!" Titus called out into the growing darkness that he knew signified the monsters' cells before him. "Miss Kane?" He tried weakly.

He waited for a reply, but when nothing came he turned back around, deciding that heading back was probably the best course of action.

Only when he turned, he found himself face-to-face with Ferris.

"There you are," Titus exhaled. "I thought I'd lost you."

"There's only one loser around here," a voice came from behind Titus now, and he whirled around just in time to see Henderson approaching from the darkness with his fists balled.

"Yeah, I was saying I thought I'd lost him, so if that was the case I definitely would be the loser," Titus said.

Then he saw another two Blue-Rankers appear from the darkness to approach him too; it was Tarik and Omar who'd fought alongside Henderson in the arena. Titus didn't need to analyse them to know they were both Defenders and of levels way out of his league.

Within a moment, Titus found himself surrounded on all four sides.

"So… Miss Kane's not here then?" He asked.

Henderson shook his head.

"And you tricked me to bring me down here?"

Henderson nodded.

"Come on, Henderson, we've done all this already. You locked me in that cage with the boar and here we are. What I don't get is how much you have to pay to get these guys to do what you want."

"You shut your mouth," Henderson ordered. "And what I pay people is of no concern of yours. They get paid, I get hired help. It's a fair business arrangement and everyone's happy."

"Except The God of Balance," Titus said.

He watched as Henderson's neck flushed red, a colour that rose into his face, and Titus heard the crunching of his knuckles as the Warrior balled his fists tighter and tighter.

"Listen, guys," Titus said, trying his hardest to remain calm. "I don't know how much you're getting for all this… but I'm telling you I'm not worth it."

"Good luck with that," Henderson sneered. "You really think they're going to talk to you? Like they answer to you?"

Titus ignored Henderson and continued.

"I watched your fight in the arena. Tarik, Omar, did you get any experience from that? Did you get punished like The God of Balance like Henderson here?"

Titus saw the pair give each other the shortest of glances. Had he not been looking directly at them just at that moment, he might've missed it.

"No experience then? And what about the punishment? because I'll bet Henderson here hasn't told you his Class has been removed and he's been prevented from getting any experience at all until he's made up for it. Because that's how The God of Balance works; you try to cheat and you get punished."

"Shut your filthy mouth," Henderson said. "You've got no idea what you're talking about."

"Is that true?" Omar asked, peering at Henderson.

"You're going to believe this nobody? Give me a break, Omar. If you want what I've promised, then keep your mouth shut and do what you're told."

"I'm right, Omar, and you know it," Titus said, sensing a thread to pull on. "Henderson's…"

Smack.

It took a second for Titus to realise what had just happened, but Henderson's snarling face and raised, balled fist told him that he'd just been punched in the nose.

"So you do know how to shut up," Henderson said. "Now I heard you and your friends shouting from the crowd while we were out there offering up our lives for the City, and that's something that can't go unpunished."

"It was hardly a fair fight…" Titus managed, raising his hand to his nose as he detected a trickle of blood seeping from his nostril. "You really…"

Smack.

Another punch, this time to his jaw. Titus fell back, but Ferris was behind him and bounced him back upright.

"You will learn to keep your mouth shut," Henderson growled.

The blood running freely from Titus' nose had now reached his mouth he knew, because he could just about taste the copper.

"Your friends are going to get what's coming to them, going out into the arena alone. Maybe they're already dead," Henderson said. "It's a shame you're not going to get that luxury. No what you're going to get is something to remember your place, and then a lifetime of wondering if you could've done better to keep your friends alive."

"No…" Titus whispered. "They're… out there… alone? They won't stop it?"

"Stop it‽" Henderson laughed. What a show it'll make for that crowds you love so much. Maybe they'll be remembered as heroes. But in the end you know all that really matters? It's killing monsters, no matter how it's done."

"The crowd… didn't seem to like you…" Titus said, his own anger rising.

"Well, at least they're going to get the chance to see me again," Henderson said. "Because if that Grandmaster ever lets you see the arena sands after you let your friends down, then she's even stupider than I think she is."

"Good luck levelling up," was all that Titus managed to reply before Henderson placed his hands on Titus' shoulders and launched a solid knee into his ribs. Titus felt them crack and a hot pain radiate across the front of his body. He almost fell to his knees but again Ferris caught him. Then Omar and Tarik grabbed his arms and held him before Henderson. Titus let his head hang, knowing there was now nothing he could do to get out of any of this. Instead, he spat a mouthful of blood on the floor at Henderson's feet.

"I'll forgive you for dirtying my shoes," Henderson sneered. "I'm sure I have another pair. Maybe your friend Jordan has some he won't be needing any more? He looks about my size."

Titus didn't look up.

Crack.

Another knee to the ribs and Titus's vision blurred and doubled before it righted itself again.

Titus then felt a large hand atop his head as Henderson grasped a handful of his hair and lifted his head to meet his gaze.

"Learn your lesson. I don't expect to have to give you another."

All Titus could do in response was smile. An action that enraged Henderson as he held Titus' head and punched him in the face again, again and again.

"Alright, let him go," Titus heard Henderson say before he felt the strong hands holding him up disappear. He heard, not saw because as his vision was fading he'd closed his eyes voluntarily in the hope that all of this would be over soon.

"Better for you? Or is this still cheating?" Henderson asked, standing over Titus as he remained on the ground on all fours.

"Still… cheating…" Titus managed to force out. He didn't know what possessed him to say it, to further enrage the large Warrior, but whatever was happening to him in this very moment, his mind was with his friends, out there on the sands. Alone.

Titus' body was screaming at him in pain. Everything hurt but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Even if he wanted to stand up to Henderson, even if he could, he knew the other Blue-ranked Contestants were never going to let him get away with anything as silly as fighting back.

But there was some kind of morbid peacefulness in the realisation that nothing he could do would make any difference.

A kick to the ribs felt like an explosion in Titus' chest and he fell down onto his side. His eyes still shut he could now only do his best to curl up into as small a ball as possible to try to protect his broken body.

He couldn't hear anything anymore. He could barely feel the impacts of the boots against his leg, arm, and side as they arrived, causing him to jerk repeatedly, but he did what he could to remain balled up and protecting as much of himself as possible.

"You're no fun Titus!" Henderson jeered between kicks. "I'm going to have to break that shell of yours to get to the soft middle. Why don't you just stand up and face me like a man?"

Titus did think that statement was a little ironic coming from Henderson, but even if he wanted to voice that observation, he couldn't. The pain had taken over and with every kick that landed, he was now groaning and moaning.

Crack, crack, crack.

Another three hard kicks took what little wind remained in Titus' lungs away from him and he coughed. Combined with the pain of the action from what he presumed was at least a handful of broken ribs, he didn't need his eyes open to know that he'd just coughed up more than a healthy portion of blood.

And then Titus analysed his own stats in the hope that this couldn't possibly last much longer but he was disappointed to see that the beating was yet to sap even half of his HP.

"I think your friends are probably done for by now, so why don't we put you out of your misery?" Then Henderson added as almost an afterthought. "And I trust that you'll remember this little lesson of mine about when to keep your mouth shut."

Titus didn't respond, but heard after the short silence that followed a shuffling of Henderson's boots on the ground as he prepared another strike. A second later, Titus's head whipped back as Henderson's kick skimmed the top of his head. It was a mistake to react and he knew it was the moment he'd move, but Titus'd had no choice.

The final kick that followed landed hard against his cheek, and the last thing he could think about before his vision faded to black was the fact that he'd let his friends down, sending them out into the arena alone. Being tricked by Henderson and his hired help so easily and being so unable to do anything about it now.

It was almost a relief to welcome the cold embrace of unconsciousness as he felt his bruised, cut, bleeding, and broken body relax as he could no longer keep hold of the control over his own muscles.

But then again he thought of Jordan and Petra. That was all that really mattered.