The Game of the Centry

I stood under the protecting roof of the famous Zeilan hall. Crowds packed the hall like an angry mob, all wanting their chance of glory. This was it, the day everyone had been waiting for. This was the day that the world itself would change. Irrademables could become kings, monsters could be saved. This was the day that “The Game of the Century” began.

I’d never witnessed such a variety of people, all in one place, with one goal. There were towering seven foot tall giants, 300 pound behemoths, street rats that looked no more than twelve. As long as you had a car, anyone could enter. All that mattered during the race was winning. No laws existed in the pocket dimensions, the organizers had made that extremely clear.

A stage was positioned front and center, rattling as footsteps walked upon the podium. The woman who was presented in front of the crowd commanded a presence. The mob in the hall quieted in a snap as every head turned to look.

“Testing... Testing... “ Her voice, soft as a snowflake, echoed around the room. Her small stature and petite figure seemed to contrast her aura. I couldn’t put a finger on what made her stand out so much, it was something just beyond the physical, I felt.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to The Game of the Century” Those simple words caused the crowd to explode in cheers.

“I'm your host New Belam, Alania. For those of you at other stations watching this on a screen, I ask that you be quiet during the presentation. Thank you very much.” She bowed to us, and I looked behind the crowd to see an array of expensive cameras all pointed towards her like a group of snipers.

“As you all know, the first round will be a race through several pocket dimensions. Each dimension will hold one hundred racers, and the first ten contestants to complete the race move on to the second round. The race will last about two hours on average for those who complete the course. This is the last chance to drop out. If not, you will not be allowed to leave the testing area until every race has finished. For those of you worried about the crowd, the testing areas will have fewer people as the races go on.”

A muttered echo could be heard around the hall. People were quietly daring each other to drop out. No one was going to leave. I’d be shocked if five people left the hall. The reward was too great. It clouded minds, perceptions. That wish was one hell of a drug.

“Very well then. Everyone who left, I wish you well. For everyone else, let’s start the game.” The lights shut off and metal gates shot from the ceiling. We were truly blocked off from the outside world. When they came back on, Zeilan hall was radically different.

The walls were replaced with dark metal, reflecting the lights above. The stage had disappeared as well, replaced with a portal guarded by two men in suits.

“Line up here. Every 100 entrants, we will change pocket dimensions. You will find out more inside.” One of the men said. It was rough, like English wasn’t his first language.

I got my slot near the front of the line. A few roughens bullied their way to the front. Idiots. Why go for the harder matchup?

The guards motioned everyone through, almost pushing some of the slower people in. After two portal changes, I approached the front of the line. There it was, right in front of me. A year’s worth of work, all for this. Everyone’s cars were probably humming softly in pocket dimensions, waiting for this day. No one knew what the race was going to be like. It was all up to luck now, who prepared correctly?

I felt the usual shaking as my body entered the portal. My body compressed itself while splitting apart and coming back together faster than I could feel the sensation. It wasn’t necessarily painful, more just uncomfortable, like an itch all over your body.

Just as soon as the sensation began, it ended as I appeared in the pocket dimension. Every pocket dimension was different, with the creator designing the space to their liking. This one seemed almost distorted, with a shifting purple sky and a dull grey ground. At the end of the platform, only an endless void lay below. There were no safety rails or anything. If someone fell off, suicide was their best option.

“Welcome contestant, please take your vehicle out and set it on the track.” Behind me, a mechanical voice rang out of thin air, over and over.

My pocket dimension was light as it left my pocket. I tossed it onto the ground and the tent sprung up from seemingly thin air. A few button presses on the tent later, and my Camero came rolling out of the garage, looking new as could be.

The starting line was half full when I pulled up. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes lightened the runway, from planes to motorcycles. There was one thing almost every vehicle had in common, they weren’t stock.

Machine guns were featured on several of the cars, protruding from the hoods. Guns were technically illegal to own in New Belem, but in here, no one would care. “The game of the Century” was not necessarily a death game, but it certainly was a possibility.

None of the contestants spoke a word. What was the point? Half of them were probably going to die anyway. No use talking to a corpse.

Ten minutes later, the runway was filled. The track stretched out to the horizon in front of us contestants. The concrete road narrowed quickly around a hundred meters off. That was the first choke point. Anyone who was ill-prepared would die right there without dumb luck, be pushed off or shot to death.

“Contestants. This is the last preparation stage. In fifteen minutes, the race will begin. Check your vehicles for any last-minute errors. Any removal of competitors before the race begins will result in immediate disqualification. Thank you.”

“Uggggg” A collective groan came from the start line. My competators wanted to race, get themselves out there. The one wish was blinding them to the risks. I couldnt complain. The more distracted my opponents were, the more my odds rose.

Car doors slammed and engines quelled. Bangings replaced the silence, which left as quickly as it came. I looked around. Only one other person joined me in staying inside their vehicle. Only one other person had the confidence in their craft. That was a person to look out for, someone who could win.

She was relaxing in her convertible, a 2047 Corvette. Her head shimmed slightly in the light, revealing the barrier that her car created. At a glance, my guess was a spacial barrier.anything that entered would appear on the other side instaly. Bullets would be useless, not to mention any physical weapon.

Her head turned towards mine before I could look away. Blonde hair swayed past the barrier, going down to her neck. Shining orange eyes stared at me as she smiled and gave a friendly wave. The air seemed to get hotter when she turned, warming up from the constant seventy degrees of the pocket dimention.

I waved back and turned towards the track again. If I focused on her, I would lose the race before it even began. How many minutes had it been? Five? Ten? I couldn't tell. My mind immediately started coming up with plans.

There were two main paths I could take to start the race; immediately hit the gas pedal, or wait to go after the carnage. The question was how to treat the race. Is it a game of speed, or of survival?

Rushing to the front could work, as long as I started in the middle of the pack. Whoever was in front would be the target from the rampant gunfire. That would become a race of attrition, the frontrunners constantly getting shot until there were no frontrunners left, unless that girl in the Corvette came anong anyway.

“One minute remaining” That damned robotic voice echoed out around the pocket dimension. Time had flown faster than I’d ever guessed it would.

Rumbles started up again around me, almost shaking the racetrack itself. Glowing lights appeared under the starting gate. Every second, one light whisked itself away, a timer counting down. The last light stood out. It was a light green, flickering among the yellow sea of lights. Once that disappeared into the abyss, the race would be begin.

One moment, ticking by as the lights disappeared. Every vehicle was on now. Cars were rumbling and propellers were turning. Motorcycles screamed as their engines were pushed to the limit, the riders pushing for the perfect start.

Thirty seconds left. Every head was focused on the track. Strategies had to be running in their minds. There were cars built for evasion, war, speed. Online, there were forms filled with all sorts of strategies for the race. Granted, no one knew what the race was going to be like, but that didn't stop people from imagining. I’d gotten a few of my modifications from those forms, so I couldn't complain.

Most of those ideas were just used by the people who could afford to hire someone to install them however.People like me were lucky enough to know what we were doing. I don't know if it was because the organizers were too rich to know, but most ordinary people couldn't get a car able to compete with the rich. Their only option was to win on pure skill or luck.

Ten light left. The atmosphere tightened around me. My eyes tracked every flame that went out. There were five, four, three, two, one.

The green light disappeared into the abyss. Air horns screamed around us and the “Game of the Century” Began.