Cale followed Zavio through the winding halls of Gray Lotus HQ, the tension thick enough to cut.


    Zavio strutted ahead, his expensive vest crisp, his polished boots clacking against the black marble floor. He carried himself like you’d expect from a spoiled rich brat. Overly confident, head held high, chest puffed out, bordering on exaggeration. Sometimes he would look back at Cale and scowl. Cale only smiled back with a shit-eating grin.


    Fiara walked beside them, surprisingly quiet. Instead, her fingers flew over a sleek managlass tablet, queuing up the duel parameters.


    They entered a circular chamber, all obsidian and silver, lined with thin strips of pulsing light. At either end of the room sat two pods, sleek and curved like high-tech sarcophagi. In the center stood a complicated control panel, surrounded by holographic screens displaying shifting battlefields, combat data, and duel records.


    It’s cold in here.


    Cale looked at the pods. Black with lines of blue mana glowing in patterns. Absolutely dotted with sigils that Aura oohed at. The design was different, but the feeling… the feeling was the same.


    A strange lurch in his stomach. A deja vu.


    I remember…


    Not this fight. Not this duel. But this feeling—stepping into a pod, leaving something behind, knowing it might be the last time.


    The fragmented memories hit him in disjointed pieces. Cold metal. Hushed voices. A sharp scent—like antiseptic. A hand on his shoulder, firm but warm. Someone had said something to him.


    Not goodbye. It was a thank you. No— not exactly that.


    Something heavier. More final.


    “We exalt you for your sacrifice.”


    He tried to grab onto it, but the memory slipped through his fingers like sand.


    A choice. A sacrifice. A promise.


    “Cale.”


    Aura’s voice snapped him back.


    His fists had clenched. His breath had quickened.


    “‘This is not the time to lollygag. Or dilly-dally,” Aura murmured. “I need you to focus, Cale.”


    Cale smiled wanly, exhaled and flexed his fingers. Whatever that memory was—it was gone. All that mattered now was the present.


    Fiara had already stepped up to the central control panel, her voice shifting into something smooth and formal as she tapped the final confirmations.


    “Per Gray Lotus Syndicate protocol,” she began, “this is an official simulated deathmatch, overseen and recorded. The results will be internally public and recorded. As a training engagement, both participants agree to full neural synchronization with the combat framework. Injuries sustained in the simulation will not carry over, but pain and sensation will remain at 85% realism.”


    She looked at Cale when she said it.


    Zavio smirked. “Still time to back out, trash.”


    Cale rolled his shoulders. “Keep talking, it’s been working so well for you.”


    Fiara’s mouth was a tight line before she sighed and continued. “Victory is determined by incapacitation or death. Additionally, duelists may bring any equipment of their choosing, which will be imprinted into the simulation.”


    Cale perked up. “Wait. Anything?”


    Fiara gave him a wary look. “Yes. Weapons, armor, combat tools. Anything you would normally use in a fight.”


    Cale crossed his arms, pretending to think deeply. “So… I can bring my hoverboard?”


    Fiara blinked. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose as if attacked by a headache, and muttered something under her breath.


    Zavio scoffed. “You must be joking.”


    Fiara exhaled through her nose. “I swear, I’ve never seen a fool like you.”


    Cale grinned. “There are no fools like me.”


    For half a second, nothing. Then—just the faintest hitch in her typing. A blink too slow.


    Then, as if nothing happened, she flicked her gaze back to the screen. “Get in the pod, idiot.”


    Cale said nothing more, only stepped toward the pod and climbed in.


    The metal was smooth and cool beneath his fingers. He exhaled slowly as the curved lid began to close with a soft hiss.


    Cale shook away the past from his mind. It was enough to know he had stepped into the cryopod voluntarily, with purpose. With resolve.


    That was all he wanted to know about his old self for now. He hadn’t been a coward or a prisoner. He had made a promise. Cale felt at ease.


    Time to live for the moment.


    “Let’s kick ass, Aura.”


    The pod sealed shut. A darkness enveloped him. Cale’s hands rested on cold metal. He could hear himself breathe, and the heartbeat in his ears. Soon the pod flooded with a faintly gray gas. He was starting to lose his consciousness.


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    And then—


    Initialization complete.


    Entering simulation.


    *


    [Initializing...]


    For a brief moment, there was nothing.


    No sound. No light. No gravity. Just an overwhelming sensation of being between places, like his mind had been plucked from his body and left floating in a void.


    Then—


    The world slammed into place.


    The weight of his body returned, gravity grabbed hold, and suddenly—he was standing.


    A vast arena stretched around him, a coliseum of pale stone and hard golden sand, enclosed by towering walls that reached toward a domed ceiling of shimmering energy. The air was dry and hot, carrying the faint scent of dust and something vaguely metallic—like old blood baked into the sand.


    The only sound was the distant, mechanical hum of the simulation system running in the background.


    Then, footsteps.


    Cale turned his head and saw Zavio standing fifty feet away, his posture loose, relaxed—his stance casual, but calculated. The arena light gleamed off his blue vest, and in his hand, he held an ornate pistol.


    Zavio smiled. The gun whined as it charged.


    A split second later, it snapped.


    A lance of golden energy exploded from the barrel, cutting through the air at lightning speed.


    Cale’s body moved on instinct—a sharp pivot, a drop of his shoulder—and the blast sailed past him so close he could feel it.


    Before he could fully process the dodge, another shot.


    Cale hit the ground, rolling hard through the coarse sand. His palms burned as he pushed off and flipped to his feet. He felt something heavy on his back—his hoverboard.


    Another shot. Faster this time.


    Cale unstrapped the board in a single motion, spun, and leapt onto it—just barely evading the next bolt as it hissed past his ear.


    The fight was on.


    [A.U.R.A skill advanced.]


    [Predictive Battle Algorithm: 2]


    “I have developed a predictive pattern against Zavio. It is 28% accurate. Just listen to me.”


    Cale nodded. Now was not the time to complain about the accuracy.


    Cale bobbed and weaved under the fire of Zavio’s seemingly endless barrage. The bolts didn’t seem to be as devastating as bullets would be for regular humans, considering their speed, but Zavio certainly wasn’t about to run out.


    Cale sped across the arena, weaving left and right as Zavio tracked him effortlessly. The air cracked with each shot, and Cale could practically feel the bastard grinning every time he barely avoided one. All the while Aura was feeding him information.


    “The predictive model is at 36%”


    Cale could feel it. Aura would give him verbal instructions, but she was doing something else. Something else entirely… Before Aura told him to follow them, Cale thought them hallucinations, or some part of the simulation. Well, they were hallucinations, just ones created by Aura.


    She dotted his vision with a succession of little floating red orbs.


    “Follow them! And keep listening!”


    Cale did as was told. And he managed to keep dodging. But only because…


    Cale turned to glance at Zavio. The smug bastard was enjoying himself.


    Zavio wasn’t just wantonly throwing out attacks—he was playing with his food.


    “Aura—” Cale called out as he tilted hard to dodge a near-perfect shot.


    [A.U.R.A skill advanced.]


    [Predictive Battle Algorithm: 3]


    “The algorithm is getting more refined,” Aura said. “It is 41% accurate. Just listen to me.”


    Cale gritted his teeth. Not great. But better than nothing.


    Zavio fired again—this time a spread shot, three small pulses at once. Cale rolled mid-air, avoiding two, but the third clipped his shoulder.


    Cold.


    It wasn’t like a bullet. It wasn’t heat or burning. It was like ice being forced into his bones.


    Cale managed to dodge at least a dozen of them, before he got either too brave or too frustrated, and he sped up his hoverboard in a frontal assault at Zavio.


    Zavio took his time aiming, and Cale could see the smirk just before the recoil. The bolt slammed straight into his chest. There was pain, like someone had plunged a cold steel rod through his sternum. Cale was knocked off the hoverboard and rolled on the hard sand. Before he could recover, another bolt struck him in the back. He arched his back as another cold bolt of energy sliced through him. Cale felt something tighten inside of him. He hissed through his teeth.


    “Keep moving!”


    Cale forced himself to his feet, but had to immediately throw himself away from another bolt. And another. He ignored Aura and worked on pure instinct. It worked to dodge some of the shots, but not all…


    Zavio was walking towards him and bombarding him with a fusillade of yellow energy. Another one struck Cale and the coldness inside him grew with the pain. He was slowing down.


    “Keep at it, Cale! Just a little longer!”


    [A.U.R.A skill advanced.]


    [Predictive Battle Algorithm: 4]


    I just need to keep… enduring…


    Another snap of Zavio’s weapon. He was a bastard true and true, but his aim was good. The next lance of energy struck Cale in the head.


    Pain. Like a spear of frozen steel through his skull. His vision blurred as he was ripped off the hoverboard, crashing into the sand.


    Before he could react—


    Another shot.


    This one hit him in the back. Cold, deep pain spread through his core, locking up his muscles. He gasped, his fingers twitching against the sand.


    More shots followed. Each one stole more of his strength.


    Cale tried to push himself up, but another bolt slammed into his ribcage, and he collapsed with a strangled gasp.


    His breath came shallow. His limbs felt numb, like something was coiling around his insides, squeezing tighter with each hit.


    Zavio’s boots crunched over the sand. Aura was shouting something in the back of his mind. His ears were ringing, but he forced himself to focus. With a blurry vision he winced with every movement.


    Cale tried to stumble towards his hoverboard. Zavio walked past it. He kicked the hoverboard aside, sending it skidding out of reach.


    I have to… get up…


    Cale tried to rise, but the shots had weakened him. He wasn’t bleeding, his clothes were not burnt or torn. But his spirit, his mana was being suffocated. There was a constant electrical current inside of him that constricted his very being. With each shot the constriction tightened, the pain increased.


    Zavio walked up to Cale who was on his knees, trying to push himself up with a hand. Zavio kicked the hand out and planted his foot on Cale’s head.


    “Nothing but a big mouth,” Zavio hissed. “How dare you waste my time like this.”


    Cale knew this was the end of the line. But he would not yield. Not give up. He wanted to try again. Aura’s algorithm had improved his chances that much already. Just a little more…


    Cale tried to push himself up instinctively, but Zavio stomped on his head. The pain in his skull exploded. Cale could only see white and now he tasted the warm iron in his mouth. Another stomp. The pain was absolute. His ears were ringing. He could feel the granules of sand in his mouth mix with the flow of blood. With the third stomp he felt a sickening crunch and everything went black.