With Sam distracted, I sprint past him and grab their flag off the wall. He notices me just as I start running back to my side, keeping close to the wall. He tries to take aim at me but I rip the blaster out of his hands using my telekinesis. He won’t be a problem now. Five is laid out just a few yards away, looking groggy from tangling with Nine. He won’t be a problem, either.

It’s John and Bernie Kosar I have to worry about.

The two of them break away from Eight when they see me running with the flag. Eight quickly teleports into BK’s path, tackles him, and teleports with him to the other side of the room. That just leaves John.

Nine tries to intercept him but even though she’s barely shaken off the effects of the blaster shot, Six manages to jut her leg out and trip Nine up. That gives John a clear path towards me. I’m still wearing his bracelet, so he must know that shooting his fireballs at me won’t work. Instead, he makes a beeline to cut me off.

It’s disorienting at first, using the antigravity Legacy that Nine transferred to me at the start of the game. It’s odd to feel the world shift sideways as I run up the side of the wall, my feet landing where it should be impossible. John’s coming on so fast that he doesn’t have time to adjust and crashes into the wall beneath me.

I sprint across the ceiling to our home-base wall and drop back down to the floor, holding the flag aloft. Part of me can’t believe it, even when Malcolm blows a whistle signaling an end to the game. I did it. We won!

“Damn,” I say, rubbing my head where it bounced off the wall. “Didn’t see that coming.”

I can’t help but smile as I watch Marina celebrate. Eight teleports across the room to wrap her in a big hug and Ella runs over to join in. Nine limps over to me, extending a hand.

“Good game, boss,” he says.

“Yeah, you too,” I say, clasping his hand. A couple weeks ago the idea of losing to Nine would’ve made me nuts. Now, it doesn’t seem to matter as much. The important thing is that both sides worked well together. The Legacies on display, the fighting skills, everyone watching one another’s backs—I know it’s only a game, but it makes me believe we can take on anything.

Nine steps away from me to go help Five back to his feet. Five looks pretty beat up, bruises all down the side of his face, one of his arms hanging limp at his side. Nine makes a show of brushing him off.

“No hard feelings,” Nine says, smirking.

“Yeah, sure,” Five replies sullenly.