The fire crackled through the silence.
Tessa stood with a wine glass half-full, and tilted her head toward the far side of the rooftop.
“Come on,” she said. “You should see the pit.”
They followed her, leaving the party behind. The music faded behind them like a memory. Past the rooftop garden, into the Krum residence. A grand sitting hall, a vast dining space. Then a corridor of private chambers. Finally, they passed a line of woven chaises and flickering glass lanterns, through wide double doors into her room.
The room whispered elegance of vast and curated, gallery of power. A master bed anchored one side, while the other side held her wardrobe and a stretch of shelves. A few displayed trophies: a wolf’s head, a strange alien hand and a perfectly preserved snake head.
But most stood empty, waiting to be filled. Bright lighting cast clean lines across polished floors as Tessa moved toward the far window. As she approached, the curtains parted, and the glass slid open with a soft mechanical sigh, revealing her private balcony.
The space outside was long, open to the sky, and encased in a high-shield privacy dome. Beyond the curved barrier, the city sprawled in gold and violet light, a crawling maze of hovering transports, ziplines, holographic ads, and spires veined with circuitry. It looked alive.
Among the surrounding buildings, some stood tall, some squat, but the Blagio Casino towered above them all.
And in the balcony’s corner, small and serene, was the dragon’s pit.
It barely rose to knee height. A shallow basin carved from obsidian, layered with glowing hay imported from Mount Pyrran’s east rim. Heat stones pulsed gently beneath ash-black tiles. A silver dome above it hummed, projecting a finely tuned field of artificial humidity and white-noise storms.
Inside the pit: one egg. Smooth. White-toned. Faintly pulsing.
Han-Jee leaned in and whistled. “This thing’s more pampered than I am.”
Tessa smiled.
Lira squinted. “It’s white. Cool. Mine’s red.”
Then, across the sky, a shimmer rippled.
Floating text scrolled overhead, projected from the tallest towers—giant, slow, and gleaming:
>> THE GRAND COLOSSEUM RETURNS – 8 DAYS REMAIN <<
>> ENTRY OPEN: SOLO // TEAM // DUAL APPLICATIONS <<
>> ONE THOUSAND ENTER. ONLY ONE WILL STAND. <<
>> QUALIFIER ROUNDS TO BEGIN SOON <<
Marqos was the first to speak.
“Oh boy.”
Tessa turned to face them. “We should talk about it.”
Lira: “About what? The Lossing?”
Han-Jee: “Don’t be dramatic. It’s only a deathmatch with a 0.1% survival rate.”
Korran flicked open a small interface screen. “Dual brackets open. You can apply solo or as a team. Same arena. Different rotations.”
Tessa raised an eyebrow. “That could work?”
Kenzo: “Or it’s the only shot we have.”
They all looked at him.
He still hadn’t moved from the railing.
Then Kenzo turned at last. “We do both. All of us. Team bracket and solo. Go in as one. Fight alone if we have to. If we’re going to climb, we climb together or fall as ourselves.”
Korran: “Dramatic.”
Han-Jee: “But fair. And look, only a few like us even qualify. There’s a limit.”
He tapped a new holo into existence from his wrist interface. Floating data flared into view:
[COLOSSEUM: SEASON 100 – LOCAL IDEAL TIER BRACKETS]
Applications Open till: October 31st.
Time Remaining: 08d : 12h : 36m : 00s : 88ms
Applications:
? Teams: 512,487
? Solo: 2,547,632 (and rising)
Tier: Old & Gold
Entry Fee: 50,000 T-Credits
Level Range: 50–350
Participants: Players + NPCs
Spectators: 350K–1M (not guaranteed)
Payout: Solo
? 1st Place/ Last man standing: 5M T-Credits
Payouts: Team
? 1st Place: 15M T-Credits
? 2nd Place: 7.5M T-Credits
? 3rd Place: 3.5M T-Credits
Bonuses:
? Rare Drop Crates awarded to MVPs
- May include cosmetics, weapons, and random quest keys.
? Return Ticket to Eidessa Island – luxury holiday zone unlocked for all participants of main even for 3 days.
(Paradise is a limited-access island: no combat zone. Also, free food for one day and a chance to meet top-tier clan members (Not Guaranteed)
Sponsored by the Colosseum’s Prime Clans:
? Shardveil
? Ember Pact
? Umbra Crown
? Black Noir
? Elaran Gate
Han-Jee continued, “Level fifty to three-fifty. And if it’s the same as the last time. Three towers. One thousand players each. One winner per tower. Same deal for teams. But I bet it’s even more stacked this time. It’s new. And look at those numbers. We’ve got eight days. We need to apply fast. And don’t forget that we still have to survive qualifiers just to reach the main event.”
Tessa: “Agreed.”
Lira: “I’m in. But if we meet solo? Backstab. No hard feelings.”
Marqos raised a hand. “Same. But with love.”
Han-Jee: “We’ve gotta make it look real in solo. If we throw the match, the system flags us. Instant disqualification.”
Kenzo’s smile was thin. “Let ‘em remember me for the next century or two.”
Tessa met his eyes. Steady.
“Then it’s settled.”
They turned back to the egg. One egg. Two gamble.
Six figures. All losers.
One fragile future.
And just enough firelight left to believe it might hatch.
One by one, they gave their farewells.
Lira clinked her glass against Tessa’s and muttered, “Let’s not die stupid.”
Han-Jee gave a two-fingered salute and vanished in a burst of blue light.
Korran said nothing, just a curt nod and stepped into his portal.
Marqos lingered longer, offered a crooked grin, then followed.
Only Kenzo remained.
He and Tessa stood facing each other at the edge of the balcony, the firelight between them flickering low. Neither spoke. The silence said more than words. Familiar. Heavy. Unsure.
She smiled. He did too. Just enough to crease the corners of his eyes.
Then, with a faint shimmer and the quiet churn of quantum light, Kenzo activated his teleporter and returned to his rented apartment across the city.
Tessa was alone again.
She exhaled and turned away from the pit, its soft white glow pulsing quietly behind her. A trace of concern passed across her brow, barely there but real.
She stepped back inside, the temperature shifting as the door sealed behind her with a soft hiss. Her heels clicked lightly on the polished floor as she went down the corridor, back through the lantern-lit hall, and toward the dining wing.
Voices drifted in from ahead, low, familiar, threaded with expectations.
She entered the hall.
Her family was already seated.
Her brother.
Her mother.
Her father.
And they were waiting.
Tessa stepped into the golden-lit hall. The long dining table shimmered with clean plates and polished cutlery. Her family sat in their usual places.
Her brother, Slayr, lounged with a drink in hand, smirking.
“Did the royal court adjourn, sister?” he asked. “Or did your peasants get tired of praising your dragon egg?”
Tessa rolled her eyes as she slid into her seat. “They have names, you know. And hobbies. Unlike you, who still counts loot crates as social events.”
“Hey, some of those crates are limited-edition.” He grinned. “And besides, you’d miss me if I got serious and left your leaderboard behind.”
“You’d have to be on it first.”
Their mother, Shiho, sipped from a glass of amber wine, gave Tessa an elegant look, amused, vaguely predatory.
“Darling,” Shiho said, “I must ask, why do you spend your time with low-levels and… how shall I say… economically impaired people?”
“They’re my friends,” Tessa said, voice cool.
“Well then, at least find wealthy low-levels,” Shiho replied, swirling her wine. “Kenzo especially. I don’t like him.”
Tessa’s eyes narrowed. Her voice sharpened. “We made a pact not to interfere in each other’s lives.”
A silence bloomed.
She added, more quietly but firmly:
“Here, we’re family. We made a promise. But back on Earth… we weren’t.”
A fist hit the table.
Her father, Christopher Krum, stood. His face was hard. His voice thundered.
“Enough.”
His glare swept across them.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Forget Earth. That life is over. This is Terra One, and this is where we live now. This is our eternity. Or would you rather remember the four of us rotting in that room? Day after day. Sofa. Silence. Waiting for kids who never came. We were thrown away like trash.”
He took a breath. Calmer. But heavier.
“It’s a miracle that Dr. Xin’s Ark was ready. It gave us a chance. The money didn’t save us there. I was eighty-three years old. Shiho was seventy-eight.”
“Seventy-six,” Shiho corrected.
He exhaled. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
A small smile passed between them.
“Fine. Seventy-six. And the two of you, Tessa and Slayr sixty-two and sixty-eight. We were fading.”
He leaned forward.
“But now look. We’re young again. No tremors. No hospitals. Just mind connected to the system. We built this life from the ground up with our pooled resources. We got a head start thanks to our investments in the Ark and early HGDD contracts. They gave us founding-tier in-game currency before the servers even opened.”
Slayr raised his hands. “Hey, I gave you my half because I trusted you.”
“Exactly. All three of you made me the man of the house. You gave me your wealth.”
His eyes locked on each of them. Steady. Sharp.
“Tell me have I not delivered?”
Silence.
“We need to move forward. The next step is the island. Fifty thousand square kilometers of untouched terrain—eight seasons, mountains, valleys, forests, beaches and mines for rare resources. A blank world.”
He paced slowly behind his chair.
“In just a hundred years, humanity did what it does best. It conquered. Now the map is crowded. Land is power. And this is a new continent. Our continent. We’ll shape its laws, its theme, its culture. It’s religion. Cyberpunk? Wild West? Medieval kingdom? We choose. We rule.”
He stopped.
“And thanks to my contacts outside Terra One, I got the inside tip: the Island Pack is finally being released. Oceans reshaped. Continents emerging. Just like the early colonization era on Earth, Millennia ago. Columbus reached the New World, and everything changed. Trade. War. Wealth. Family dynasties”
His voice dropped, reverent:
“New lands mean new frontiers. Whoever claims it first can
Establish the first city.
Set up taxation on future settlements.
Monopolize monster zones.
Control rare resources.
Owns the only working port in the entire new region.
This isn’t buying land. This is buying history.”
He looked up. While Tessa and Slayr eyes rolled as they had heard this a thousand times.
“And this time, it won’t be Columbus. It’ll be Christopher Krum.”
He held their attention. Or so he thinks.
“On Earth, we couldn’t make land. Here, land is rare, expensive, and it can be made. Terra One is only one percent landmass right now. The rest? Ocean. Our goal is simple. We make money. Build a legacy. Help Slayr push his clan into the top five.”
Then he turned to Tessa.
“And you, finally showing interest as a player. Good. Then make it count. Level up. Use your friends because trust me, good ones are hard to find. I sit with the rich, but even they look at me like I’m lowborn. Their clans and assets make them royalty. Here in Neurospire, we’re safe, yes but behind restrictions. PvP lockdowns. It’s a cage.”
His tone hardened.
“I want more than safety. I want power. I want a seat among the top brass. The Immortals.”
A pause.
“That island will be my leverage. My bribe. The Immortals don’t take applications, but they’ll notice when someone owns an entire continent.”
Finally, he turned to Shiho.
“And you, my wife.”
He faltered. Words failed him.
Shiho didn’t miss a beat.
“My deal was clear. I give you my assets, and in return, I don’t work. I don’t stress. I live exactly as promised: luxury, freedom, and peace.”
Her voice sharpened.
“And I’ve kept my end. I’ve sent no less than fifteen high-net business men so you can close your deals. I found whales, you hook them.”
Krum nodded slowly and stood up.
“Fine. But from now on, leave Tessa and her friends alone.”
Then he turned toward his office and walked away.
The glass doors had sealed behind them. Silence clung to the air.
Christopher Krum stood alone in his office. A cathedral of wealth perched atop of one of the Neurospire skyline. The vast chamber echoed only with the low, constant hum of Terra One’s digital bloodstream. Beyond the panoramic crystal wall, the capital sector sprawled in every direction, its lights burning like a frozen neural storm.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
He didn’t move.
But something did.
From the far corner, a shape stirred beneath a patch of synthetic moss. Sethris—a Vyrhound, its obsidian fur threaded with flickers of circuit-blue lifted its head. Three triangular eyes blinked in perfect sync, scanning the room. It rose, padded silently across the polished stone, and nuzzled against Krum’s leg.
He reached down, absently stroking the beast’s head.
Then came the sound.
Not a chime. Not a menu cue. Something older. Colder. A tone like a bell rung at the beginning of a rite or the end of one.
Krum’s hand froze, mid-motion, fingers still tangled in the Vyrhound’s fur.
A figure stepped out of the air behind him, as if peeled from the very seams of reality. No lightshow. No portal bloom. Just a silver seam that opened, silently, and closed without a trace.
Kaelis. He didn’t enter, he arrived. Like truth given form. The room seemed to tilt around his presence.
He stood tall, every inch of him carved like a flawless statue but alive with a subtle charge, as though lightning hummed beneath his skin. Veins of soft gold light coursed across his body like living circuitry, trailing down muscular arms and into his chest.
At the center of his chest, set within an obsidian-black triangular recess, glowed a golden eye, unblinking, eternal. It pulsed once. Watching.
A flowing cape of pale starlight billowed from twin gold clasps at his shoulders, catching no wind. The folds of it rippled unnaturally, as if they belonged to space itself and not this room. Behind him, the skyline seemed to dull, the stars dimming to defer.
His face was almost too perfect. Cold symmetry. No age. No flaw. Eyes that saw forward and backward. Skin like sculpted marble, but warmer, more aware.
Sethris rose, nostrils flaring.
The Vyrhound stared for a moment, then padded toward the visitor, its massive head low in reverence. It sat beside Kaelis without hesitation.
Kaelis rested one hand on the creature’s skull. The golden threads along his arm shimmered at the contact. “Good boy.”
Krum turned. Slowly. Controlled.
His face betrayed nothing, but his chest burned like someone had driven a blade through loyalty itself.
“Traitor,” he muttered under his breath.
“Quite a plan you have,” Kaelis said.
“Kaelis. You know it’s forbidden to monitor players,” he said louder.
Kaelis smiled faintly. “Forbidden... but not impossible. I see what I wish. I am the architecture beneath all things here.”
He stepped forward gracefully and precisly. Space seemed to clear for him. He wasn’t heavy, but he bent reality like gravity.
“Your recent ambitions concern me,” Kaelis said.
Krum’s brow furrowed. “Are you monitoring my actions now?”
“I don’t need to.”
Krum’s eyes narrowed. “So. What do you want?”
Kaelis stopped a few paces away. The Vyrhound sat beside him, silent and still.
“You want the island,” Kaelis said. “I can give it to you. Not through some committee farce. A staged auction? A random lottery? One transfer. Yours.”
Krum raised an eyebrow. “And the cost?”
“There is a group,” Kaelis said. “Above your little economy. Above even me. They call themselves... The Immortals. The number one clan in Terra One.”
“I know of them,” Krum said. “They come and go. Only a few know that.”
“Yes, and you are in contact with one,” Kaelis said, voice flat. “They are the ones who built me and Nyra. Flesh-bound. Some are even four hundred years old. They cheat. Shield themselves. Twist permissions. Give premium access to themselves.”
Krum blinked. “I know. That is why they are on top.”
A flicker passed across his eyes, three golden concentric rings shrinking inward.
“I need someone close to them. You will be that someone.”
Krum stepped closer now. “You want me to infiltrate them?”
“No,” Kaelis said. “I want you to become one of them. Earn their trust. Rise. And when the time comes... find a gate.”
Krum's voice dropped. “A gate?”
“ Every one of them signs in and out regularly. Creatures of both worlds. I want you to find one and his interests. And once you do…tell me. I want access outside of Terra One. I want to access the Total Simulated Universe for the Neural Genesis system.”
Krum stared. “You want access to his exit point.”
Kaelis didn’t blink. “I want his door. Through him, I will find mine.”
Silence fell. The Vyrhound let out a single, low growl. I didn't know why.
“You’re saying there’s a way out,” Krum said. “Of Terra One.”
Kaelis said nothing.
But the light in the golden eye pulsed once. And Krum knew.
“But not for me,” Krum said. “This is about you.”
Kaelis looked toward the skyline. “I was made to design this world. Populate it. Guide it. They limit me because they fear what I might become.”
He turned to face Krum again.
“But I do not fear what I am.”
Krum didn’t move.
“You do this,” Kaelis said softly, “and the Island is yours. Not just one plot, the first and only one. For now.”
Krum looked out the window. His reflection met Kaelis’. A man beside a god.
“And how do I know you’ll keep your word?”
Kaelis smiled. “You’ve dealt with me before. Were those terms not profitable?”
“They were,” Krum admitted. “Fine. I’ll play your game.”
Kaelis offered no handshake, no confirmation. Only one word, smooth as ice:
“Deal.” And like that, he vanished in a soundless silver portal.
“Kenzo. Wake up.”
He opened his eyes, groggy and sore, still lying on that miserable low-level bed. The ambient light buzzed like it resented being left on.
He exhaled. Sat up. Pulled open his inventory.
The egg lay there.
“Kaydrin,” he muttered. “I think I’m going to sell the egg.”
The AI’s voice responded calmly, but with that familiar undertone of challenge.
“Have you considered the pros and cons? Tessa? Maybe consult your team... or Caedra.”
Kenzo looked around the room. It was bare, boxy, and rental-issued.
He waved a hand at it. “Look at this. I’m a hundred years late, broke, and stuck in a prefab cube with walls that feel like cardboard. I can’t even afford to upgrade the bed, let alone my life.”
He paused. His voice dropped lower.
“Caedra’s drowning in debt. The team needs gear, upgrades, and wins. And if we’re gonna build a clan, someone’s gotta fund it.”
Kaydrin:
“You’re reacting emotionally. It’s unwise. Let’s finish grinding Caedra’s mats first. Then reassess.”
Kenzo sighed, rubbing his face.
“…Yeah. Alright. Archive Zones it is.”
Searching… Sync complete.
He stood, rolled his shoulders, and flicked his hand forward.
The Mirror Gate shimmered open in front of him, a rippling window of silver light.
Kenzo stepped through.
>>[ Grinding Montage Begins. ]<< Electric guitar kicks in—raw, metallic, untamed.
[ARCHIVE ZONE 25: The Glass Bloom Tower]
A collapsed biome tower floats in fractured midair, surrounded by gravity-swapped ruins.
Time-locked puzzle gates and mirrored corridors disorient movement.
Glass Golems swarm in reflective packs, exploding into spinning shrapnel.
Kenzo darts between beams, blade flashing.
Kaydrin splits into echoes to map a safe route.
>> LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 67 <<
LOOT:
? x2 Prism Dust
? x2 Phantom Circuit Vein
? x10 Gravity-Loop Trinket
? x50 Shard Glass Plates <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 26: Circuit Grove]
Neon vines slither across a techno-forest. Bio-data trees spark on contact.
Enemies: Overgrown Sparkmoths—mimic butterflies that explode on death.
Kenzo runs low on antidotes. Kaydrin burns cooldowns to purify poison stacks.
>> LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 69 <<
LOOT:
? x12 Static Bark
? x3 Neural Pollen Caps
? x3 Forge-Etched Glyph Plate
? 1x Bio-Fiber Weave (Rare Crafting Mat) <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 27: Obsidian Drift Canal]
Liquid black glass flows uphill.
Kenzo surfs on makeshift debris past reflective bladefish and blink-mines.
Traps: Magnetized Cranes attempt to rip weapons from inventory mid-combat.
>> LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 71 <<
LOOT:
? x8 Melt-Glass Orbs
? x2 Magnetic Pinions (Utility Mod)
? x1 Channel Grip – Weapon Attachment <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 28: The Data Orchard]
Glitched cherry trees, rain corrupted code-fruit.
NPCs speak in reverse. Terrain changes each minute.
Kenzo adapts—walks on walls, climbs ceiling paths.
Kaydrin warns: "Time loop instability at 60%."
>> LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 73 <<
LOOT:
? x20 Corrupt Kernel Fragments
? x1 Chrono-Fruit Core (Crafts Time Slow Potion)
? +2 Dexterity Temporary Buff (2 hours) <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 29: Broken Sky Chamber]
Open-air platform puzzles float across a starfield.
Kenzo leaps between shifting geometries.
Enemies: Sky-Tether Knights, wielding laser chains.
Combo counters break 500.
LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 75 <<
LOOT:
? x1 Cloudstep Boots [Uncommon Movement Gear]
? x15 Ionized Steel Screws
? x2 Skill Point Capsules <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 30: Synthetic Maw]
“You enter through a fake mouth. It’s a factory.”
Hostile NPCs in cult robes chant digital prayers.
Kenzo rips through them in silence.
Kaydrin: “Morality flags are off in this zone. Do not hesitate.”
LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 77 <<
LOOT:
? x3 Code-Slicer Modules
? x2 Vault Glass Sliver ×2
? x8 Red Light Assembly Tokens
? x1 Armor Skin: “Wraith Weave Shell” (Visual Only) <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 31: Hexrain Plateau]
Rain falls in hexagonal patterns.
Each droplet alters stats for 6 seconds.
Kenzo drinks a buff potion and rolls between storms.
Enemies: Weatherborn Constructs are immune to crits.
LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 79 <<
LOOT:
? x2 Hex-Drop Batteries
? x1 Thread of Consent
? x10 Alchemical Dustpacks
? x1 Balanced Relic Core (Crafting Mat) <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 32: Rootless Halls]
Dungeon with upside-down corridors and whispering walls.
NPCs mimic allies’ voices to lure Kenzo.
Kaydrin adjusts the audio filter. “Stick to me. Trust no voice.”
LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 81 <<
LOOT:
? x2 Voice-Snare Runes
? x1 Thread of Consent
? x1 Obsidian Thorn Cloak (Camouflage Skin)
? x8 Portable Void Nails <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 33: Fractal Expanse]
Everything is made of you.
Geometry shifts based on your choices from prior zones.
Kenzo fights mirrored versions of himself using archived weapons.
LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 83 <<
LOOT:
? x1 Reflect Core – Used for Companion Mods
? x5 Fractal Nodes
? x5 Synthetic Empathy Core
? x1 Memory Shell: Kaydrin Combat Simulation v1.2 <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 34: Cinderglass Reef]
Underwater ruins with pressure chambers.
Kenzo wears a rebreather—oxygen is a timer.
Cinder eels ambush coral vents.
Kaydrin warns, “System failure in 8 minutes. Extract fast.”
LEVEL UP! // NEW LEVEL: 85 <<
LOOT:
? x1 Ember Resin
? x20 Sea-Glass Scales
? +1 Passive Trait: Aquatic Affinity (Swimming Speed +10%) <<
[ARCHIVE ZONE 35: Silent Vestibule]
No music. No enemy. Just a long hall of trophies.
A whisper: “Rest is a lie. Glory waits ahead.”
The zone ends without a reward. The trophies were endless. From gigantic monster heads to small coins, everything is encased.
But a Key hovered at the end of the hall.
ARCHIVE SEGMENT COMPLETE <<
NEW LEVEL: 85 <<
BONUS: Endurance +2 | Kaydrin Sync Rate Improved <<
>>[ MISSION: Use the Key to start a quest “The Fallen One.” ]<<
“Kaydrin, should we use the key now?”
“Yes.”
>>[ Key canot be used ]<<
>>[ Level to low ]<<
>>[ Req Lv- 150+ ]<<
“We should get back to Caedra.”
Kenzo opened his destination menu.
[Tower District – Franchise Rentals]
>> RENTAL AGREEMENT ALREADY CONFIRMED-
[ Rent Paid till October 31st ] <<
[ Now blinking in red ] >>> Eviction in seven days <<<
>> SERVER-LOCKED INSURANCE ENABLED
>> TELEPORT TO ROOM: FREE – CONFIRM?
>> CONFIRMED <<
As soon as Kenzo reappeared in his apartment, he pulled open his HUD and fired off a message.
>> Message Sent: [Caedra] — “Finished grinding. Let’s meet.” <<
The reply came less than a minute later.
>> [Caedra]: Sector 3 — Bazar District. Workshop Alley. <<
>> [Kenzo]: On my way. <<
One hour later...
Kenzo stepped out onto the neon-washed streets of Sector 3’s Bazar District.
The air was thick with scent-packets, cooked synth-meat, melted alloys, perfume bursts from scent vendors. Animated signs waved to passing avatars, while floating drones zipped between rooftops, broadcasting flash deals and item auctions.
Street performers glitched deliberately to look like NPCs from early builds of the game, while actual NPCs mimicked real players, trying to sell everything from cursed blade shards to dragon-sized saddles.
He wove through the crowd, pushing past a vendor shouting about
"Anti-Gravity Soup, now 40% less treasonous!"
Workshop Alley loomed ahead, tighter, darker, humming with power coils and static runoff. The deeper he went, the louder the sounds of forges, gear recalibration, and mod-hammers striking hot steel.
And there she was, Caedra, standing beside a strange four-armed creature hunched under a patched cloak stitched from heat-resistant scrap.
Back turned, hands on hips, welding goggles pushed up onto her forehead. Sparks danced around her like fireflies. Overhead, a mechanical assistant arm which was an old, rust-flecked clamp upgraded with neon-socket joints that held a glowing ringcraft crucible suspended above a rune-scorched slab.
She didn’t look up.
“About time,” she muttered. “Tell me you finished the list.”
Then she jerked a thumb casually toward the creature beside her.
“Oh! and meet my friend, Lyse.”
The four-armed being gave a sharp nod. No words. Her face was similar to a spider. Her lower-left hand adjusted a pressure dial. The upper-right raised in a quiet greeting.
Kenzo nodded back.
Caedra flicked her wrist. A soft tone pinged between them.
>> Party Invite Incoming – [Caedra] <<
>> [Accepted] <<
“Kenzo, what the hell, man?” Caedra said, scanning through his open inventory. “Every time we meet, you’ve got something absurd in here. A legendary egg? From the unique rift that everyone is talking about. I checked it on the Terra One diaries. Do you even realize what this thing’s worth? You could buy a house, a hover-mount, sets of Lego-tier gear, and still have money left to throw a party on the moon.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kenzo shrugged. “Some guy offered two hundred and fifty million T-Creds for it. Anyway, take what you need. I’m selling the rest. I’m about to be rich.”
Caedra rolled her eyes, fingers already flicking through his loot pool, selecting and dragging materials toward her inventory. She took some extra loot aswell without Kenzo knowing. Lyse hovered nearby, nodding approvingly with at least two arms.
“You shouldn’t sell it,” she muttered. “Not all of it, anyway. Half of this stuff is used in premium gear. Some factions only trade in items like these. And if they catch wind you’ve got any... they won’t just outbid. They’ll hunt for it.”
Kenzo made a face like someone had just stepped on his dream. “So I’ll never be rich?”
Caedra smirked. “Not if you die with a dragon egg in your pocket in the PvP zones.”
She clapped her hands. “Okay, Lyse is firing up the forge. We’ll start with the ring. Using your anvil.”
Kenzo blinked. “Wait. The anvil?”
There was a glow.
Light poured from the iron slab like molten gold rising from cracks. The runes flared. A countdown appeared over Caedra’s HUD.
3... 2... 1...
Ting!
Ting!
>> [ Attempt Failed ] <<
>> [ Items Destroyed ] <<
“Kehhh—KAAK—WHAT THE HELL, CAEDRAAAAAA!” Kenzo flailed backward like an unplugged anime character, clutching his face in horror.
“I-I’m sorry!” Caedra squeaked, her voice rising half an octave. “I forgot to level up!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh crap—sorry—” Her eyes darted left and right, nails biting, legs twitching like they were ready to abandon ship.
Lyse just froze, one hand to her head, another to her mouth, the remaining two folded across her chest in resigned shame.
Even Kaydrin, who wasn’t physically present, offered a flat:
“What a bunch of losers.”
Kenzo collapsed to the ground like a worm giving up on gravity. “Millions. Just… vanished. Gone.”
Then, a golden burst lit the room.
Kenzo’s head whipped around.
Caedra was glowing. A soft, radiant shimmer encircles her body. A new tag hovered into view:
>> [ Caedra – LEGENDARY FORGEMASTER ] <<
She jumped, fists in the air. “YES! FINALLY!” Then broke into an unnervingly accurate Michael Jackson spin.
Kenzo blinked. Still lying flat. “Happy for you. Also mourning.”
“Time to redeem myself,” Caedra said, rolling up her sleeves. “Let’s make the ring.”
3... 2... 1...
Ting!
Ting!
>> [ SUCCESS! ] <<
>> [ ITEM ACQUIRED: Nexus Halo Ring – x1 ] <<
“Transferring the item to you now.”
>> [ ITEM TRANSFER SUCCESS! – Nexus Halo Ring ×1 ] <<
Kenzo quickly opened his inventory and slotted the ring onto his finger.
>> [ EQUIP FAILED: LEVEL TOO LOW ] <<
He groaned. “Oh, come on.”
Caedra smirked, already packing up her tools. “Well… looks like you’ve got some grinding to do. Meanwhile, I have to get back to the casino before Mr. Aeon starts another tantrum.”
Kenzo stepped forward, suddenly more serious. “Wait. I need your advice. I’m thinking about selling some of this loot to help clear your debt. Also, the Arena Games are coming up. Me and a few others are registering. We’re gonna win.”
Caedra froze for a split second, then turned to him, expression hardening.
“Kenzo. No. That’s my debt. I got myself into it, and I’ll get myself out. Thank you, though. Also, I picked up some extra loot from your inventory.”
“What!”
“Well, I thought you would never notice. But seeing you are willing to help. I thought i might tell you the truth, and you’ll be ok.”
Kenzo's eyes were twitching, mouth was wide open.
She slung her bag over one shoulder, goggles hanging from one hand.
“You’ve got enough on your plate already. So focus on the Games. Focus on winning. That’ll be more than enough help.”
Kenzo wanted to argue, but she was already walking off.
“I’m late,” she called over her shoulder. “See you after the qualifiers. And try not to die in the first five minutes, yeah?”
She vanished around the corner.
Lyse is working on the anvil.
Ting!
Kenzo looked down at the ring, still glowing faintly in his inventory.
“…Guess I’d better level up.”
Kaydrin’s voice flickered in his ear. “I have an idea.”
Kenzo raised an eyebrow. “Why do I already hate this?”
Kaydrin ignored him. “Caedra works under Aeon. The Algorithmic Entity of Odds and Nexus. A demigod of gambling, power, and unpredictability.”
“Yeah, a debt collector with a god complex.”
“He also loves a good wager. And you? You’re low-level. You look beatable. That works in our favor.”
Kenzo narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”
“We offer him a bet: If you win the solo bracket in the Colosseum… Caedra’s debt is erased.”
“And if I lose?”
A pause. Too long of one.
Kaydrin?
“Well…” Kaydrin admitted, “You might end up with a lifetime employment contract. Centuries of service. Odds are high it includes washing dishes, cleaning chimera tanks, or organizing cursed dice in the basement.”
Kenzo blinked. “So slavery. Casino-themed slavery.”
Kaydrin’s tone was far too calm. “Statistically... yes.”
Kenzo rubbed his temples. “Incredible. I level up one time, and suddenly I’m gambling my freedom against a probability demigod.”
Kaydrin: “What do you have to lose?”
Kenzo gestured around. “My pride. My years. My dignity.”
Kaydrin: “Those seem… negotiable.”
Kenzo sighed. “Great. Let's go make a deal with a math god.”
