The creature's massive bulk hovers twenty feet above the forest floor, suspended in my telekinetic grip. Ten tons of muscle, armor, and toxic spines held aloft with barely a conscious thought. I rotate it slowly, examining the beast the arena catalogs call a "Dreadtusk" from all angles while it roars in helpless fury.
"Show-off," Sera calls from her perch on a nearby ridge, though the impressed smile on her face betrays her true feelings.
"Throw it higher!" Lyra shouts with childlike enthusiasm, her silver hair catching the filtered sunlight that penetrates the Verdant Crucible's canopy. "See if you can make it do a flip!"
"It's not a circus animal," I say, though I find myself complying anyway, sending the beast spinning into a graceful somersault that belies its massive bulk.
We're deep in the Verdant Crucible, having covered in hours what would have taken days before my enhancement. With the neural accelerator embedded in my forehead, I've discovered I can create a telekinetic platform capable of carrying all three of us at high speed through the jungle canopy, bypassing the treacherous terrain entirely.
Sera insisted we push deep into the zone, past the relatively tame creatures that populate the outer regions. "What's the point of having souped-up powers if you're just going to waste them on glorified housecats?" she'd argued.
She was right. Out here, surrounded by truly dangerous beasts, I can properly test the limits of my enhanced abilities.
I slam the Dreadtusk into the ground hard enough to create a small crater, then immediately lift it back up before it can recover. The neural accelerator pulses with energy at my forehead, channeling power with an efficiency that still amazes me.
"I think it's had enough," Sera says, jumping down from her ridge. "Either finish it or let it go."
"Fine," I concede, lowering the dazed creature to the ground and releasing my telekinetic hold. Before it can fully regain its senses, I deliver a precisely targeted telekinetic strike to a nerve cluster at the base of its skull, rendering it unconscious without killing it.
"Humane," Lyra observes, approaching the fallen beast with fascination. "Its spines are vibrating even while it's knocked out. Some kind of defense mechanism?"
"Probably," I reply, stretching my arms overhead. Despite throwing around ten tons of angry monster for the better part of half an hour, I barely feel winded. The neural accelerator has not only boosted my raw power but also dramatically reduced the mental strain of using it. "What should we do with it?"
Sera shrugs, flames dancing casually between her fingers. "Leave it? Not like we can drag it back to Central Arena."
"I could," I point out, just to see her roll her eyes.
"Just because you can doesn't mean you should," she retorts. "What would we even do with—"
She cuts off as the sound of movement reaches us from the dense foliage ahead. I instantly raise a telekinetic barrier around our group, my senses extending outward to identify the approaching threat.
"Hold your fire!" a voice calls out from the underbrush, formal and measured. "We mean no harm."
Four figures emerge from the jungle, and I find myself staring at a ghost from my past.
"Ember?"
She steps into the clearing, red hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, dressed in much more sophisticated gear than when I last saw her. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene, the unconscious Dreadtusk, the crystal embedded in my forehead, the casual way we stand in territory that should be lethal to all but the most prepared.
"Gary," she says, her voice maintaining that controlled tone I remember. "This is... unexpected."
Her gaze moves from me to the fallen beast, and her formal demeanor slips momentarily. "You brought down the Dreadtusk?"
Three people I don't recognize hang back, eyeing us warily. A scholarly-looking man with specialized equipment hanging from his belt, a woman with subtle scales visible at her neckline, and a large man with cybernetic augmentations visible on his forearms.
I lower the barrier but maintain a state of readiness. Even with my enhanced abilities, four unknown variables deserve caution.
"You're Gary? The one who defeated Team Brute Force solo?" the scholarly man asks, his professional demeanor slipping to reveal genuine awe.
"News travels fast," I reply noncommittally.
"Among humans in Central Arena? Absolutely," Ember confirms, studying me with a mixture of surprise and hesitance. "Your rematch against Brute Force is practically legend by now."
Sera steps forward, flames dancing between her fingers in a subtle display of readiness. I wave her back, this shouldn’t need to get violent.
"What brings you out here?" I ask, my tone neutral despite the complicated emotions stirring at seeing her again.
"We're here for that," Ember says, nodding toward the fallen Dreadtusk. "Our team has been assigned to harvest specific materials from it."
The scholarly man steps forward, adjusting his glasses with nervous fingers. "The Dreadtusk's heart contains rare alchemical properties, and its blood is a key catalyst for enhancement serums. We've been searching this region for days." He glances at Ember. "This was the last place we had to check before reporting failure."
"He was playing with it like a cat with a mouse," Lyra offers cheerfully. "You should have seen it spinning in the air. It was amazing!"
Ember's team exchanges glances that clearly communicate their disbelief.
"So," Ember says after an awkward pause, "I see things have changed since I left." Her eyes fix on the neural accelerator embedded in my forehead, then move to Sera and Lyra. "New team, new enhancements."
I touch the crystal absently. "You could say that."
Another uncomfortable silence stretches between us, broken only by the ambient sounds of the jungle and the labored breathing of the unconscious Dreadtusk.
"Look," Ember finally says, her formal demeanor softening slightly, "I know we didn't part on the best terms, but this is exactly what we've been looking for. Our sponsor requires the heart and blood for a serum that could significantly enhance my pyrokinesis. Would you... would you be willing to let us harvest what we need?"
I study her for a moment, noting the fine equipment she and her team carry, the specialized tools, the quality of their armor, all hallmarks of sponsorship backing.
"Take it," I say with a dismissive wave. "We knocked it out for practice. Weren't planning to harvest anything."
The scholarly teammate blinks rapidly. "You confronted a Dreadtusk... for practice?"
"Is it really that dangerous?" Lyra asks with genuine curiosity.
"It’s one of the most powerful boss monsters in the Verdant Crucible," he replies, still looking dazed. "Most teams require extensive preparation and specialized equipment."
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I shrug, trying not to betray how good it feels to casually dismiss what clearly represents a significant challenge to others. "Things have changed."
Ember's team wastes no time, moving toward the fallen beast with practiced efficiency, unpacking specialized tools designed for extraction. As they work, Ember approaches me, keeping her voice low.
"What happened to you?" she asks, genuine curiosity breaking through her typically controlled demeanor. "Last I saw, you were still struggling after our loss to Brute Force."
"Got lucky," I reply simply. "Found opportunities."
"What about Eli? And Desta?" she asks, glancing around as if expecting to see our other original teammates.
"Eli left soon after you did," I explain. "Desta's back at Central Arena, working on some projects." I deliberately keep the details of Desta's transformation vague, not ready to share that story with someone who's no longer part of the team.
Ember studies me for a moment longer, then nods. "I'm glad. After everything that happened, you deserve a break."
The extraction takes nearly an hour, during which our teams maintain a slightly awkward distance. When they finish, the scholarly teammate approaches with a container filled with crystallized spines.
"These are the toxin sacs from the primary defensive spines," he explains, offering the container to me. "They're valuable on the open market. Consider it payment for your... assistance."
"Thanks," I say, accepting the container. "I'm sure we'll find a use for them."
Ember glances at the darkening sky as the Crucible's artificial day cycle begins to wane. "We were planning to make camp near the river about two kilometers east. You're welcome to join us for the night."
I look to Sera and Lyra, who both shrug in agreement. Truth be told, I'm curious about what path Ember has taken since our parting.
"Sure," I reply. "Lead the way."
---
The campsite by the river is well-chosen, defensible and comfortable. As night falls fully across the Crucible, two campfires blaze, illuminating our improvised camp. Around one fire sits Ember's team, around the other, the three of us from Team Exodus.
After a meal of rations supplemented by edible plants Ember's team had gathered, the scholarly teammate, introduced as Ven, pulls out a flask of something that smells potent even from several feet away.
"A little celebration for a successful hunt," he announces, passing the flask around. When it reaches me, I take a cautious sip, immediately feeling warmth spread through my chest.
The liquid burns pleasantly, some kind of distilled spirit with hints of unfamiliar spices. As the flask makes its rounds between our two groups, the initial awkwardness begins to soften. Lyra asks questions about the different zones Ember's team has explored, while Sera and Thela compare notes on elemental manipulation techniques. Even the scholarly Ven becomes more animated, gesturing enthusiastically as he explains the properties of various creature parts they've harvested.
As the night deepens and inhibitions lower with Ven's potent brew, conversation flows more freely between our separated groups.
"So," Ember says, leaning forward, the firelight casting her features in sharp relief, "a neural accelerator and telekinesis strong enough to juggle a Dreadtusk. Quite a step up from where we started."
"You've done well yourself," I observe, nodding toward her upgraded equipment. "That's not standard-issue gear."
A shadow crosses her face. "No, it's not."
"I thought you joined that guild of independent pyrokinetics," I say. "What happened with that?"
Ember's expression tightens. "Reality happened. Turns out 'independent' was just a marketing term. The real power, the real access to resources, training, and enhancement... all controlled by the same sponsor system we tried to avoid." She sighs. "Even among the 'independents,' the assets with sponsor backing had all the advantages. Better food, better quarters, priority access to the best training areas."
"The system is rigged," her scaled teammate, Thela, adds bitterly. "You either accept sponsorship or stay weak."
"So you found a sponsor," I conclude.
"Helix Consortium," Ember confirms with a nod. "Major player in enhancement serums. They saw potential in my pyrokinesis as a catalyst for their formulas."
"And the terms?" I ask, genuinely curious.
Ember's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "They take seventy percent of all earnings. Full control over our development path. Equipment provided at their discretion." She pauses. "And a five-year contract with penalties for early termination."
I try not to wince. Those terms are significantly worse than what Zix offered us.
"But we get to eat," Ven interjects, his scholarly demeanor softened by the drink. "We get enhancement serums, training facilities, protection."
"The great compromise," Thela says, her scaled skin catching the firelight. "Trade your autonomy for security. Your freedom for strength."
"What about you?" Ember asks, her eyes fixing on the neural accelerator. "Clearly you found a path forward after I left."
"We got lucky," I admit. "Found a sponsor desperate enough to give us favorable terms. Ninety percent of earnings stay with us. Complete autonomy over our development. I can walk away anytime with no penalties."
"Ninety percent?" Ven nearly chokes on his drink. "That's unheard of."
"Must be nice," Thela mutters.
"What's the catch?" Ember asks, her tactical mind immediately searching for the hidden cost.
"The catch is I had to earn everything myself," I explain. "No gear, no serums, no training facilities. All Zix provides is access to the zones and the Labyrinth. Everything else I had to find, earn, or build on my own."
"That's almost like being independent," Korven, the cybernetically enhanced man, observes.
"Almost," I agree, thinking of how many times I might have died without that initial access. "But that access makes all the difference."
"The funny thing about this place," Korven continues, cybernetic implants glinting in the firelight, "is that it's all arbitrary. The percentages, the rules, the control. None of it has to be this way. It's designed to break you down, make you grateful for whatever scraps they throw your way."
"It reminds me of something I learned recently," I say, thinking of Xaelon and his merger with Desta. "There was an AI, immensely powerful, brilliant beyond anything we could imagine. But all that power, all that intelligence, was used to create puzzles and challenges for the entertainment of others. Despite running an entire technological complex, it was just another cog in a larger system."
"So what happened to this AI?" Ember asks.
"It found a way out," I reply simply. "It gave up all that power for a chance at freedom."
A somber silence falls over both teams as my words sink in. The parallels are unmistakable, how even the most powerful entities in this system are still ultimately caged.
The conversation gradually shifts to more practical matters, exchange of information about zones, other teams, resources. It's the kind of practical knowledge exchange that assets engage in when sponsors aren't listening, the unofficial network that helps navigate Central Arena's treacherous politics.
As the night grows later and team members gradually drift toward sleep, I find myself taking first watch, perched on a fallen log overlooking the river. My enhanced telekinetic awareness extends outward in a perfect sphere around our camp, allowing me to detect even the smallest movements in our vicinity.
Ember joins me after a while, sitting nearby but maintaining a respectful distance.
"I never expected to see you again," she admits, her voice low enough not to disturb those sleeping. "Especially not like this, casually subduing beasts that my entire team has been searching for."
"Life takes strange turns," I reply.
"I remember when we first arrived," she says, staring out at the unnaturally perfect reflection of twin moons on the river's surface. "How lost we all were. How determined you were to stay independent."
"I still am, in my own way," I point out. "My arrangement with Zix gives me autonomy and the freedom to leave anytime."
"For now," she says, a note of warning in her voice. "Just... be careful, Gary. Sponsors always want more. If they can’t control you, then they’d rather destroy you than see you fall into the hands of someone else."
"Zix isn’t like that," I reply, shaking my head. At least, I don’t think so.
“If you say so…” Ember whispers.
I stay silent, not knowing what to say. She’s not wrong, maybe I’m just being naive.
"The neural accelerator," she eventually says, nodding toward my forehead, "that's some advanced tech. I’ve seen some basic versions, but nothing like that in the enhancement catalogs."
"Custom work," I reply simply.
She whistles low. "Your team must have some serious technical skills."
I think of Desta and her transformation. "You have no idea."
"That's the real advantage in the arena," Ember observes. "Not just raw power, but innovation. Finding edges the system hasn't accounted for yet."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, two pieces of Earth transplanted to this artificial wilderness, playing roles in a game with rules we never agreed to but must follow nonetheless.
Eventually Ember returns to her team's side of the camp, I'm left watching the artificial night sky, reflecting on the strange twists of fate that led us here. Ember leaving had felt like betrayal at the time, but now I understand it was simply pragmatism in a system designed to break independents.
Team Exodus got lucky, a desperate sponsor willing to give us all the freedom we wanted. But luck isn't a strategy, and the arena system remains fundamentally unchanged, a machine designed to process human potential into entertainment and profit.
Tomorrow we'll return to our room, to our upgraded Desta and the next steps toward our freedom. But tonight's conversation with Ember serves as a sobering reminder of how precarious our position remains, how quickly fortune can shift in this artificial world built on exploitation disguised as opportunity.
