New Arrival
A wall of fire cut through an oval-shaped arena, cutting off the three people on each side of it.
Through it flew one of Europe's rising stars - both in the world of heroism and celebrities - Mons Orléanais mainstay Vox Populi, who was launched by a burst of concentrated air through her team's wall of fire, dispersing a part of it and sending her shooting past the opposition. In her hand, she held the chakram-shaped object this round of Superball gravitated around. "And she's gone!" An announcer shouted. "A surprise attack through the wall of fire sends Artemisia and Imperatrix scrambling to stop her! With the score tied in match point for both teams, will this play end the game?!"
The arena was full of obstacles - a low, transparent ceiling and large glass blocks scattered around it made it impossible to move in a straight line. Incidentally, Frida Langenstein, better known by the moniker Artemisia, thrived in this terrain. A streak of red light followed her as she bounced from wall to ceiling to floor to block, over and over again, movements impossible to track. She'd now positioned herself on Vox Populi's right side, with her sister Imperatrix closing in on the left. "Not so fast. The greenie's first win will be another day, I'm afraid."
On the left side of the arena were Princeps, one of Vox Populi's two teammates and the world's best youth Superball athlete, opposite to the opposing team's last member. He glanced up at their target - a bullseye at the far end of the arena. Hitting it with the chakram would end their game, but Artemisia's ironclad defense through her ridiculous awareness of space made that nigh impossible.
"Princeps!" Vox Populi called, tapping the chakram with her hand. Her ability activated, creating a tether between Princeps and the chakram, sending it flying his way. Artemisia, who'd read the play before it happened, appeared at Princeps' side. "You really thought that'd-"
A boom echoed, and then a whistle rang throughout the arena. "Incredible! Firenze's interrupted his own teammate's pass to end the game - his allies and foes alike look stunned at this turn of events!"
The audience burst into cheers and applause, and Mons Orléanais' newest exchange student bowed theatrically. The adrenaline pumping through his body and blood rushing through his veins drowned out the spectators' jubilation. The perfect sequence he'd envisioned, in which his movements would force every other person nearby, friend or foe, to move in a way he could exploit excellently. Julius de la Trémoille put a hand on his shoulder. "Fun, right? They don't do this stuff in America. Should stick with us Europeans, Mickey. You're one of us, after all."
Artemisia walked past him towards the podium. Michelangelo excused himself and dismissed Princeps for now, doing a quick jog to catch up to her instead. "So, it seems my vision has exceeded yours for once, Frida." "Don't get your hopes up. Won't happen again." "I'll hold you to that." Frida grinned at that, giving him a handshake so strong that Michelangelo almost whimpered.