"Sector 4—Forge District, Arena Core."
A red haze loomed over the stadium as if the sky itself was actually red. Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance, half because of the chaos, half because of the people who would be carried on a stretcher that day. This wasn't just another fight—it was a test, a statement, a broadcast to every watching member of Sector 4:
Filea and Shiraku had arrived.
"Step forward," the announcer barked, voice booming over the stadium-wide comms. "Unregistered combatants. State your names and tier."
Filea cracked his neck and lifted his chin, smirking like he'd already won.
"Filea. Tier Two. Provisional."
"Shiraku. Tier Two. Provisional."
A beat passed. Then—
[GEARU+ SYNC: 91% – FILEA]
>> "Oooh, you said it with your chest. Big boy mode activated. I'm proud of you."
[GEARU+ SYNC: 95% – SHIRAKU
Drive Tier - Verified
The floor below them shifted as the arena began to transform. Walls rose. Platforms dropped. Gravity began to alter in pulses.
Above the battlefield, the giant dome screen split into four sections: two highlighting Filea and Shiraku, and the others flashing enemy data.
"MATCH ONE: Ravager Class – Dual Blades Variant. Begin."
Two Ravager mechs dropped in front of him—hulking, broad-shouldered machines with arm blades longer than most cars. One surged at him, swinging in a wide horizontal slash.
Filea didn't flinch. His Gearu+ adapted instantly, shoulder plating expanding as he ducked, rolled forward, and let his gauntlets transform into shock-torque fists.
("Heads up: That guy's left blade's got a delay in recoil. Exploit it and maybe don't get sliced, yeah?")
"Appreciate the late warning, you crazy AI." Filea muttered.
He weaved in, ducked under the second Ravager's thrust, and planted a charged uppercut into its underarm joint. A pulse of compressed energy detonated, shredding the mech's arm in one blast.
The crowd lost it.
Filea twisted, sliding between the legs of the second one and launching straight up with a spiral knee-boost. His heel crashed through the mech's cockpit like it owed him money.
("And that, my guy, is why we don't skip leg day.")
"Next," Filea said, standing amidst the wreckage, steam rising from his armor.
*Meanwhile, in another arena*
Shiraku didn't even wait for the announcer to call the next fight. She leapt off a platform and met her first enemy mid-air: a Stalker-type mech with quad thrusters and four thin plasma whips.
("I'm just sayin', if she slices that one too fast, nobody's gonna see how cool she looked doing it.") Alis said to Filea as the monitored the fight from their ring
As the whips lashed out, she danced between them like she could hear the wind move. Her blades spun in her hands—a blur of silver and crackling pink aura. One whip came too close.
She grabbed it.
"Whip this."
With one savage pull, she yanked the mech toward her, kicked off mid-air, and slammed both blades into its core. It sparked and exploded before it even hit the ground.
Her boots skidded across a wall before she launched again, flipping upside-down toward the next challenger.
A heavier mech, like a walking tank.
She darted low, tracing sparks across its legs, then popped upward like a razorstorm. Five clean slashes in under three seconds. The tank unit stopped moving—then split apart.
("Alright, now I'm scared of her. Make sure to tell her this "You are thirteen, maybe don't ruin adults' careers just yet, okay?")
Flashback – 7 Years Ago
"You two," the old man had said, standing barefoot in the burning wasteland of Sector 7, "are broken. That's good. Broken things bend different."
They'd stood there—six-year-olds, bruised and starving, holding wrenches like they were swords.
"Everyone else I found wanted power. You two… you want freedom. Will you come with me? To a place of limitless opportunities?"
Shiraku went first "Yes, I will." No hesitation was sensed in her voice. Filea grinned and followed, keeping his smile across his face, while not actually saying anything.
They followed him, leaving the trenches of Sector 7, vowing to come back and change it.
And they never looked back.
-Back to Present-
Back in the arena, Filea now faced a Crusader Class Core Tier mech—bigger than the rest, heavy-armor plating, and a gravity hammer so dense it bent the air.
("Okay, so, this one? This one could actually kill you. Wanna try not dying for me, champ?")
"Yeah, I got this. Shut up, Alis"
He crouched low, then boosted hard—skimming the ground before feinting left. The Crusader swung. Filea went under, the hammer blowing a crater into the floor.
His back thrusters flared. In one blinding move, he slid behind the Crusader, locked his arms around its core—then overcharged his knuckle capacitors.
BOOM.
The blast lit the whole arena in white.
The mech went flying—slammed into a wall and stuck there, twitching.
Filea stood up slowly, chest rising. His arms smoked from the overclock burst.
("...Okay, maybe don't do that again. It costs money to build these things.")
"Worth it," he breathed.
-Moving over to Shiraku-
Shiraku's next opponent was an Illusion Frame—a mech designed to flicker in and out of sight, using cloaking and mind-distortion tech.
The crowd watched her circle the field, eyes narrowed.
Then a shimmer to her right—too late?
Not for her.
She spun and threw one blade before the mech fully phased in, nailing it directly through the visor.
("Wait wait WAIT, how did she see that?")
"I didn't," she said calmly. "I felt the wind shift."
The crowd didn't even cheer that time. They were just stunned.
The Illusion Frame staggered, cloaked again—but Shiraku was already on top of it. Her second blade arced down like a comet.
End.
She stood over the twitching wreck.
--After the Battles--
Back in the lockers, Filea sat on a bench, arms crossed behind his head, a light cut across his cheek.
Shiraku leaned against the wall, flipping a coin with her thumb. She hadn't said a word since the fight ended.
Their Gearu+ voices broke the silence at the same time.
They glanced at each other.
Grinned.
A door hissed open behind them.
Their old master stepped in—now in a black cloak, face older, colder, meaner.
"You two," he said. "Are officially too dangerous to stay in the shadows."
He tossed a datapad.
"Welcome to Tier III. Next stop: Warpath League."