incision

The screen flickers to life. We see a ring, crudely constructed. Nothing about it is professional - it's clearly in a backyard somewhere, maybe a derelict lot on the outskirts of the city.

Vale wanders into view, measuring each step carefully. She's staring at the ground as she walks, hardly moving in a manner that suggests she's aware of the camera in front of her. She's whispering to herself, each footfall, every breath, but the camera isn't expensive enough to pick it up. What we have is a grainy, ancient webcam doing its best to separate grey from grey, blonde hair from red ring ropes. It's blurry, but it works.

The camera skips, and Vale is in front of it now, smirk on her face. She's eyeing it directly, and a smack and a shake indicate she's doing some last minute adjustments.

"I believe that will do it."

The audio is distorted. Her voice sounds like a woman's, but the octaves are wrong. Unfamiliar but functional, like a schooner sailing through quicksand. 

"Hello, Elysium! I've been keeping an eye on you. On you, the champion who refuses to die. On you, the challenger who drove her to her limit."

She tilts her head.

"On you, the mother of wolves. And her pack. On an entire organization that is spilling out of the glass of a drunkard."

A finger on her lips. A beat. She continues.

"I'm so rude. This is meant to be an introduction, and I'm going about - well, it's no matter. My name is Vale. It is, without a doubt, an absolute pleasure, world."

She extends her hand in a mock shake. Does she mean it? Something about her stare...the way the crinkles under her eyes fold right instead of left.

"I suppose I'm meant to tell you about my accolades, or my experience. I have neither. I could attempt to piggyback off the name of the man who mentored me, but he's about as useful as his brother's brother. There's so little to be gained in dredging up the past, especially when the present here is so damn fascinating."

"If you must know, I am competent. Maybe even a little clever. Wrestling to me is more of a limb than the body, so to speak. One direction on a very large, convoluted road map. If you're listening, Elysium roster, you are probably more talented than I am. Physical gifts were never my forte, and though I've been trained to shore that up, I can already tell it will do little to gain an edge here. The competition here is fierce."

The camera goes to static. There's still audio, the muffled words taking on a kind of baritone melody. In a few seconds, we're back, and Vale is sitting on the ring apron. Here weight is genuinely making the ring posts bend inward, the ropes hanging loosely, one of them draping her shoulders like a shawl. If she moves, it might fall to pieces.

"The thing is, I'm more interested in what makes these brave men and women who they are. I am so. Damn. Curious. And so I filled out the paperwork, got my mentor's blessing, such as it was, and caught the first flight to Toronto. To solve Elysium, you see. To really solve Elysium. Oh, I can't wait."

"And you'll help me, won't you? The Enigma Protocol? You'll tell me why you act out the way you do. If I could just take a scalpel to your soul, see what oozes out! Instead I need to convince you, ask you politely. Entangle limb with limb until the bones speak."

Vale bounces up and down excitedly, and the ring looks seconds away from caving. Her eyes don't dart anywhere, though. The audible creak might as well be the muffled nothings of earlier. Vale is staring, now. The wheels in her head, behind the piercing blue, are spinning in place. They smell like ash and sulfur. 

"There are so many of you! I can't wait to make the first incision, see the first story unfold. I wonder if Finale will tell me what's eating him? I wonder if Alyssa wants to wax philosophical about motivation. I wonder if Atropos wants to shear this place, the same as I do. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder..."

The camera cuts out again. When it's back, the ring has finally fallen apart. The ropes are splayed everywhere, and one ring post remains standing on its own, wedged into the soft grass underneath. Vale is sitting in the middle of what used to be the ring, covered in dust. She's a bit further from the camera, so her next words are faint, but she's noticeably pouting now.

"I hate wondering."

She licks the dust off her bottom lip, fighting a gag. Somewhere off in the distance, there's the sound of a jay, but Vale pays no attention to it. She's thought about this for a while. There's a nervous energy in her body, her hands belaying a shake that seems to start in her core and vibrate its way throughout her body. Why isn't the stare moving?

"I'm going to know soon."

A smile. One of her teeth is a little blackened, it appears. By dust or by shadow. We're not to know - the camera cuts out abruptly.