Chapter Text
5 weeks since Crypto joined the Apex Games.
Tap tap tap. Tap tap. Tap. Taptaptaptaptap.
He was going to ignore it. He was going to.
Tap tap taptaptap tap tap. TAP.
“Will you please stop that?! I’m trying to focus!”
Crypto was huddled behind what used to be a desk on what was left of a second floor of a toppled, partially frozen building in what remained of a city on World’s Edge. He was scouring the data and visuals that Hack was sending to him; at least he was trying to. There was gunfire coming from all sides in the not-so-distant surrounding buildings, missiles were launching from an air strike, and Crypto was sure he could also hear the telltale sounds of a dropship coming to respawn an enemy squad’s teammate. Yet none of this was as distracting or annoying as the loud tapping of the boot from behind him. Maybe it wasn’t the boot that was bothering him, but who the boot belonged to that was the problem: Mirage.
“Well can you hurry it up with your little video game? I get antsy waitin’ around like this, but someone has to watch you while you play with your game,” Mirage said. There was a teasing tone in the man’s voice, but Crypto could sense a slight bite to his words.
He jerked his head away from his screen to glare at Mirage–who was not even looking at him or their surroundings, but rolling a coin back and forth across his knuckles.
“You stayed behind because you said you had my back. You’re the one playing around. And I already told you, this is not a video ga-” Crypto was cut off by the tink tink and crunch sound of his drone being destroyed. He turned back to his screen as it briefly flickered white noise before dissipating in front of him.
“Someone destroyed my drone,” he said flatly.
“And I, for one, am real torn up about it,” Mirage said, bumping the coin into the air then catching it and stuffing it into one of his many pouches. “Maybe we can finally catch up with Octavio. I don’t like how quiet he’s been,” Mirage said, his usual smirk absent as his mouth twisted to the side in thought or concern -Crypto couldn’t tell- and his brows furrowed as his eyes scanned the surrounding buildings.
Crypto grimaced. As much as he hated to agree with Mirage, a silent Octane did not bode well, but catching up to him also seemed unlikely. Stray bullets could be heard just outside the building now and suddenly Octane’s howling laughter was in their ears, as if on cue.
“They’re shooting at me!” He said with his usual enthusiasm. They only had time to shoot each other wary glances before they heard the hydraulic air and metal tapping of Octane’s feet running up the stairs toward them. He ran through the doorway at his usual top speed, a stim trail glowing behind him, his jump pad already in arms as he tossed it at the edge of the broken room and jumped down on it just as quickly to fly back out into the city ruins.
“Oh no,” Mirage’s voice dropped, and soon Crypto heard what he assumed Mirage had: the several footsteps of Octane’s pursuers running up the stairs to catch him. Mirage sent a decoy through the door that led to the stairs before turning and running toward the jump pad, making sure to smile and wink at Crypto before he jumped down and flew off in the same direction Octane had flown moments earlier. Crypto swallowed, then groaned and raced toward the jump pad, jumping down as he heard the decoy laugh and mock its shooters with a “Bamboozle”. As he flew through the air after his squadmates, he could hear bullets racing past his ears.
***
“It wasn’t a bad match,” Mirage was telling an interviewer. “Sure, you always wanna go home with the win, but third could be worse. We could be dead ,” he said with a sly smile and wink at his squadmates seated beside him.
The match had ended and they were back in the dropship. They came in third, and so required a facetime -no civilians allowed on the dropship! No exceptions!- interview before they were allowed to go back to their stations. It didn’t seem to matter where Mirage placed in a match, actually, he was always doing a post-match interview. Because Crypto had been on his team in every match so far, he was always dragged along. Octane sat in between them, tapping his foot and playing with a fidget spinner, commenting every so often when it interested him. Crypto was ignoring the interviewer on the screen, his eyes instead wandering around the dropship at those who were in the comfort of their own areas, unbothered. He sighed, longing to be at his own desk.
“And were you aware of the petition your fans have started, Mirage? The one that requests Crytpo be removed from the Apex games?” The woman on the vidscreen asked. Crypto jerked his head back towards the screen and crowded Octane to get a first real look at her. She had long brunette wavy hair and a plain face mostly covered by large fashionable glasses. She also wore a lot of makeup.
“What? Why are they doing that?” Crypto asked, his first words spoken in the entire interview.
“Oh, hello Crypto! Nice of you to join us,” she paused, waiting for a reciprocation. When the only response Crypto offered was an expectant, cold stare, she continued “Well, Mirage’s fans say you’re ruining his stats. You’ve been placed on his team in all his matches since your introduction into the games and aside from your first match together, you haven’t won any. Since you’re the common denominator, they’re saying you’re to blame,” the woman said. Crypto did not like this woman. Her voice had a smirk to it.
“Beverly, as much as I love my fans’ faith in me, that’s a little unfair. It’s not like I’ve won every match before-” Mirage began.
“It’s not my fault. My approach requires logic and tactics. Perhaps those are Mirage’s failings his fans did not consider.” Crypto knew he was scowling. He didn’t care. The woman’s face was betrayed by a brief shock before she let out a haughty scoff.
“Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa!” Mirage interjected with a nervous chuckle before he shot daggers at Crypto in a C’mon man! kind of way. “No one’s saying anyone has any failings. I think it’s just-” This time he was cut off by the interviewer.
“Actually, Mirage, Crypto brings up a good point. A lot of your fans do, in fact, think that Crypto’s style of play isn’t well-suited to yours, despite research showing your tactics should complement each other,” the smirk in her voice was back. Crypto’s face was on the verge of a sneer now. “They also think his attitude stinks,” she tossed in matter-of-factly. That was it.
“Perhaps his fans are idiots,” Crypto remarked before pulling the earpiece out and throwing it on the ground. Octane was howling with laughter, holding his sides and stamping his feet on the ground, the fidget spinner a distant amusement. Mirage was quickly trying to smooth things over with the interviewer as Apex PR were running to the vidcam and declaring the interview over. Crypto stood to leave, but a hand grabbed him by the wrist.
“Wait!” It was Mirage. Crypto turned his head and glared at the man and Mirage quickly let go of his wrist. Crypto stuffed his hands in his pockets and stormed away from the entire mess.
***
Crypto was hunched over his desk, headphones on, cheek resting on the back of his hand. He was surrounded by monitors. Some were displaying different news articles with that interviewer’s name in the byline while the rest contained diagnostics. He was currently uploading and analyzing the new information Hack had gathered from the most recent match on World’s Edge. Suddenly the screens went to black, indicating someone was coming up behind him. He pulled the headphones down but didn’t bother turning around. He picked up Hack.
“Leave me alone, Witt.” He examined a small scratch on the surface of his drone before deciding it wasn’t anything serious for now.
“I am approaching your station. I am coming up behind your chair. I am stopping at a respectable distance,” Mirage announced in a low sing-song tone. There was levity to it, but Crypto felt certain it was veiled mockery.
“I already know you’re there! That’s why I told you to leave!” Crypto said, readily frustrated by the man.
“Well I’m never really sure with you since you nearly pulled my shoulder out of its socket. I know how you enjoy your personal space,” Mirage said. His tone was still light, which only made Crypto more on guard. He was sure Mirage would be furious with him after that fiasco of an interview -not that he cared- yet here he was being as dumb as ever.
“What do you want?” He asked in a huff, finally swiveling his chair to face Mirage.
The man’s stance was relaxed but his arms were crossed firmly across his wide chest. He wore a black tank top but was still in his Apex gear from the waist down. Crypto eyed the various scars decorating Mirage’s muscular arms with slight surprise. They could not all possibly be from the Games. There were too many. Crypto adjusted his posture in his chair and crossed his legs.
“Listen, Kim, you’re going to have to issue an apology. Doesn’t have to be long. Just say you didn’t mean it. Blame it on your shy nature,” Mirage grinned at his last suggestion. Crypto’s eyes darted away from Mirage’s arms to his face.
“No,” Crypto answered quickly. “I did mean it.” Mirage groaned and raised one of his hands to his forehead to rub his temples.
“I don’t care! You can’t go on a live stream and call my fans idiots or you and I are gonna have some real problems.”
“Don’t we already have problems?”
“Not the fake stuff like in the ring. Real problems. I know you find it stupid, but I care about my fans. You can hate me and talk about me however you want, but you need to leave them out of it. And you can’t go around behaving like that during interviews. You really lost your cool…well what little cool you have, right? Heh. I thought you were a big computer nerd. Haven’t you ever heard of trolls?”
Crypto was attempting to process this new information Mirage had just unloaded. What did he mean by “fake stuff”? Was that implying Mirage had no real disdain for him? That it was all part of his showmanship? Fake drama for ratings? And yet that could not be entirely true because the man had just insulted him at least two times in that last statement.
“Of course I know what a troll is, 개새끼!” Crypto blurted out the words in a quiet anger, looking down at the ground.
“Well you gotta treat these reporters the same as you would a troll, got it? She was pressing all of your buttons on purpose, kid. You noticed she didn’t look down at any notes once while she was talking about you? Like she rehearsed? She wanted to goad you and you rose to the occasion. You gave her exactly what she wanted.”
“I…guess,” Crypto responded blankly.
Mirage using the word “troll” was throwing him off. It was a widely used term, but he never heard it used in person. It was a term that normally lived on his screens. Mirage using it now felt oddly intimate. He was also surprised at the man’s attention to detail and his knowledge of how the interviewer was playing him. Though he supposed he’d done enough of these things to at least be somewhat aware.
He tried to shake off the uneasy feeling and glanced up at Mirage again, only letting his discontent show. The man was staring at him like he was studying him. Crypto furrowed his brows more and Mirage’s look of discernment instantly flipped to a half smile. He scratched at the scruff of his beard on his chin before putting his hands to his hips and shifting his attention to look around Crypto’s station with mild disinterest. Reflexively, Crypto turned his torso in his chair to check his desk and make sure nothing personal was visible.
“I don’t like being in front of cameras,” Crypto began, hating to admit that Mirage was right for the second time in a single day. “And I don’t know how to smile and fake it the way you do.” Mirage laughed at this. Harder than Crypto liked.
“Well that’s an understatement!”
Another pause as Crypto thought. He didn’t care about celebrity, and he didn’t care what fans thought of him, but causing more friction - real friction as Mirage put it- between himself and this clown of a man seemed like an unwise decision. It would distract him from his main goal, he decided.
“I will issue a statement to your fans. But not to that woman.”
“As long as you make a public statement, we’re good. And just remember what I told you next time one of these reporters comes around. Although, after today, I’m not sure the Syndicate's lawyers are gonna to let you anywhere near a camera or microphone for a minute,” Mirage said, chuckling to himself.
“Why are you helping me?” Crypto turned his head and stared up at Mirage with a questioning look on his face, searching his expression for an answer to the question he just posed. Mirage looked surprised for a split second before letting a look of disbelief wash over his face.
“Psh! Help you? As if. I’m just taking care of my fans. You were doing fine till today. People will eat up that silent brooding crap. Not really my thing,” Mirage waved his hand dismissively. “But what can I say, the spotlight loves me! ” He looked down at Crypto as if to make sure he was paying attention at just how much he disapproved of the notion he was being helpful to him. Crypto raised an eyebrow. Mirage sighed.
“Fine, listen. I get your thing. Right? You’re private and paranoid. You hate the spotlight. You don’t like to talk and you keep getting dragged to these interviews because of me. It’s not that I felt guilty, no way. But…uh. Something like it. Responsible? I don’t know.” Mirage scratched the back of his scalp this time. Crypto leaned back in his chair.
“Why do they keep teaming us up anyway?” Crypto asked, though it was not directed at Mirage necessarily, just thinking out loud. Mirage cocked his head to the side in thought.
“Obviously they want you to learn from the best!” He said with a wink. Crypto was beginning to wonder if the man did that compulsively. “But the other reason -maybe the main reason- is probably because people love a good rivalry. Despite what Bev said, I’ve gotten some interesting fan letters about you…Let's just say they like our back and forth. The Syndicate knows it’s a crowd-pleaser. They’re gonna keep us together until the numbers tell them not to.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to pit us against each other then?”
Crypto decided to ignore the mention of him in Mirage’s fanmail, focusing instead on the fact that Mirage seemed to know so much about the inner workings of ratings and Syndicate decision making. His initial assumption was that Mirage didn’t know anything except how to get his hair to look just right and talk about himself.
“Eager to face me in the ring, eh?” Mirage’s “I am the Best” smirk was back in full effect. “You might regret it when the time comes! And it will. When the ratings go down for pairing us up, we’ll probably be thrown into a lot of matches against each other for a while.”
“How do you know so much about this stuff?”
“When you sell as much merch as I do you learn to pay attention to demographics and trends.” Mirage shrugged, winced, then stretched his arms together behind his back. “Well I’m gonna go. There’s a massage table with my name on it waiting for me at the Paradise Lounge.” Mirage rolled his shoulders a few more times and Crypto only then noticed that the dropship was making a descent onto Solace. “Hey, thanks for agreeing, Kim. The apology will mean something. They might even drop that petition,” Mirage said with a light chuckle. “And hey, you should come by the bar for a drink some time. All Legends get the first one free!”
“No thanks.” Crypto did not even consider the invitation before responding. Mirage smiled and made a “tch” sound.
“Well, invite’s open.” Mirage turned and sauntered over to Octane’s area, clamped a hand down on his shoulder and said something to make himself laugh while looking over his other shoulder to watch the video game he was playing. Mirage was so comfortable wandering into the personal space of others and putting his hands all over them, Crypto noticed. He watched him for a few seconds more before turning back to face his monitors. In minutes they’d be down in Solace and he could make his way “home”.
***
Tae Joon attacking Mirage on his first day of the Games was not personal. It was not even intentional. Being on the run makes one jumpy when someone invades their personal space. He thought later to apologize to him, but then Mirage spoke. He decided then that he did not want to apologize after all.
Even after learning everything he could about the Legends -before joining the Games- nothing truly prepared him for Mirage. The man could talk endlessly -mostly about himself- without a thought for the people he was speaking to. Most of the others simply seemed content to ignore him and let him prattle on. Crypto always listened closely- for any clues as to how this man could possibly be the lauded son of Evelyn Witt. He was not possibly intelligent enough to help create the holo-tech he used in matches. There was just no way. Right?
Tae Joon was in civilian clothing now, which almost always meant a hoodie and pants. Today he had opted for a hat instead of sunglasses -since the sun was almost down- and his usual mask. He walked down an alley towards his complex with a duffle over his shoulder. Hack and most of his computer equipment were in there. It was heavy even for such a short trudge, but he would never risk leaving his equipment on the dropship, no matter how encrypted it was or how safe and guarded the Syndicate claimed the dropship to be.
He huffed as he pulled the strap of the duffle higher up his shoulder again. Just a few more turns. The weight on his shoulder was starting to ache and he suddenly felt envious that Mirage was likely getting massaged right now. Actually, he didn’t want to think about that. So he forced his thoughts to travel elsewhere. Like wondering if Mirage’s knowledge of the way the Syndicate used the games to placate fans might somehow help his own digging. It was a longshot but he didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. He could use this as an excuse to go get that free drink. No. The other way around. Use the free drink as an excuse to dig. That was right.
Tae Joon reached his building which looked similar to the Market on Kings Canyon, only about half the size. It looked just as abandoned though, which was why he chose it. He pulled at his necklace until he found the piece of plastic he wanted and stuck it into a slot in an eye level metal box on the side of the building. The front of the box opened up to reveal a scanner and Tae Joon placed his face in front of it while it scanned him. Two rapid beeps told him that his facial recognition had been accepted.
Behind a large metal door, whirring and beeping could be heard until a large clang sounded and Tae Joon heard the door unlatch. He put down the duffle briefly to push the door open with both arms then picked up the bag and walked through the small opening.
He was looking forward to the day when he would be able to automate this door, but that would require more parts and tech, and more money more than anything. He really needed to win a match soon. Third place was not pulling in the money he needed and hacking into accounts had sufficed for set up, but the longer he continued down that road, the more likely he would get tracked and risk getting caught.
The furniture was sparse in the large open room. Tae set his duffle down next to a table that was hobbled together with cement blocks and a sturdy plank of wood. It had some empty containers and other trash and a single burner stove sitting on top of a microwave. There was a single shelf for other items, mostly disposable silverware and dishes and an assortment of non-perishable foods. He grabbed a cereal bar from an opened box on the shelf and quickly unwrapped it and held it in his mouth while he picked up his duffle once again.
He walked to the inner room of the complex which was clearly where he spent the majority of his time. There were several tables surrounding his desks, covered in tech and other equipment for maintenance. A few monitors sat on the main desk while the rest were mounted to a grate that was latched to one of the walls. A cot was pushed against the wall opposite of the desk, blankets and sheets strewn about. The only hints of personality in the room were a few posters hung over the bed and a small Nessie plush that sat behind one of his monitors on his desk. There were two small space heaters in this area as well. Tae Joon put the duffle down on one of the tables beside his desk and began unpacking as he finished his “meal”.
***
He’d replaced the part of the chassis on Hack that had been scratched in the day’s match, deciding that it did bother him after all. Now he leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped below his chest watching the data scroll endlessly on his screens from the earlier match. He had not been able to finish his upload on the dropship due to Mirage’s interruption. Mirage. Tae Joon huffed and glanced at his blank desktops being unused.
He leaned forward and typed a few things into his keyboard. The interview had not been published yet. He typed in a few more words and pulled up the reporter’s blog. Her style was to transcribe interviews and sprinkle in clips from the live video. If he wanted to, he could easily plant a virus on her website or even get into her files and erase the data he wanted; it would certainly be easier for him than issuing an apology to Mirage’s stupid fans.
Another sigh, he typed in a new search. Several scientific articles on Evelyn Witt’s research popped up on his screen. He scanned through a few of them. She always accredited her son as helping her develop the Holo-Pilot technology. Not just a slight mention. She said he was integral to its development. Integral? Mirage? Surely she was being generous. More typing.
Hundreds of articles about Elliott Witt popped up across his two free screens. More typing and several windows about Mirage and his matches in the Apex Games closed. The remainder were a manageable amount to wade through. They weren’t about Mirage . They were about the younger man and his work in engineering. Most of the articles were short, small blurbs of acknowledgement or possible developmental breakthroughs.
Tae Joon rested his chin in his palm, closing a few more windows before he froze with his finger posed over the mouse. His eyes widened slightly.
Hidden under thirty some-odd windows was an “Outlander 30 Under 30” issue of a reputable magazine with Mir-...with a somewhat sterilized-looking version of Elliott Witt smiling into a camera. Tae Joon noted that the smile was fake, however. Forced. It didn’t reach his eyes like his normal smile. It didn’t seem very Mirage at all.
But nevermind that, because he must be reading something wrong. If this article were real, he knew Mirage would never shut up about it -that he would brag about it any chance he got. He would never let anyone hear the end of it. Surely. Not to mention, Tae Joon would have heard about it before ever entering the games. This was the kind of stuff he kept up on.
He slowly read the article. It wasn’t a full interview. It was mostly a background story about Elliott Witt and the work he had done with STEM, while occasionally throwing in some quotes from Witt about his enthusiasm for the technology he worked with and his passion for engineering. It was an article that painted him in a very admirable light for his contributions to the advancement of STEM research in the Outlands. Definitely, without a doubt, no way he would ever shut up about this. Tae Joon wondered if the other Legends knew anything about this. He was so sure that this article was phony that he ran the article through one of his programs to verify its authenticity. Twice. It was legitimate.
What happened to that Elliott Witt? Why did this version of him remain? The article only brought up more questions instead of answering the ones Tae Joon had set out to solve. This only served to annoy him further. He hated not having answers. It was Mirage’s fault. Again. He glanced over at his monitor that was running Hack’s data, noticing it was almost complete. He focused back on his main screen, clicking hard on his mouse key to minimize the “30 under 30” article to look at the last unread window.
It was an interview with Elliott Witt shortly before he joined the Apex games. Questions about his motivations for joining the Games and what he most looked forward to. A few of his more popular taglines had already been conceived before this interview, Tae Joon realized.
He must have practiced them , he thought with an eye roll and lightest of smiles.
With how Witt was carrying himself in this interview, Tae Joon could tell he had already donned the Mirage persona. Frankly he didn’t think it was much different from Witt, maybe a slight embellishment, nothing more.
He could tell that now though. Not when he had first read this article a few months ago. It was one of the ones that came across his search when he was researching all of the Legends before getting himself into the Games. He recognized the photo used in it. Mirage laughing, smiling wide. It seemed like a candid shot, so the smile was real. That was his first time seeing Mirage’s face, actually.
Hack whirred and emitted a few pleasant beeps to let Tae Joon know the upload was complete. He rolled his chair sideways to the table where Hack rested in front of the mounted monitors. He eyed some of the data with light interest while he stood and unplugged Hack once more. He didn’t really feel like going over the data right now. The next Game wouldn’t be for a while.
He supposed he could think up an apology. Maybe he would just scan the internet and plagiarize one. As long as it sounded sincere, that’s all that Mirage cared about. He sat back in the chair and rolled it back to his desk. He leaned on his elbow, head resting in palm again and stared at the image of Mirage that was still pulled up on his monitor.
“Hey, you should come by to the bar for a drink some time.”
Tae Joon sighed into his palm, frowning.
“씨발”