3074

"Alright, you heard her," Dr. Wang's voice was a flat, dismissive snap, her patience clearly worn thin. She gestured to the guards as Echo dissolved back into the shadows of her throne. "Load these assets into the transport. Send them to the Citadel."

Two guards, their movements brutish and efficient, hoisted Jacqui up like a sack of synth-grain and dumped her into a cold, metallic wheelchair. They slapped heavy, magnetic gravity cuffs onto Ethicca's and Jimmy's wrists, the metal clamping shut with an ominous, solid clank. "Move," one of them grunted, prodding them forward with the barrel of a pulse rifle.

As they were marched out of the grand hall, Ethicca couldn't help but look back. Moros still hung on the wall like a crucified, three-faced god, a grotesque monument of flesh and wire. One of his central eyes lazily opened, its black, soulless pupil fixing on her for a split second before she was forced through the doors. The feeling of that dead gaze lingered on her skin like a physical, oily residue.

The hallways of the Spire were not corridors; they were arteries of polished chrome and pulsing light, sterile and impossibly vast. As they were marched through them, Jacqui spoke, her head hung low, her voice a raw whisper. "Hey, E… a deal? When did you make a deal with a goddamn Sentinel?"

Jimmy, his box-head swiveling to look at her, chimed in. "Yeah, amiga. I think we missed a chapter. When exactly did you decide to shake hands with the devil?"

Ethicca kept her eyes forward, her voice low enough for only them to hear. "She pulled me into a liminal space. Froze time. It was the only choice I had. My body for our survival. A consciousness swap. It was the only deal on the table."

Jimmy let out a short, sharp burst of static that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "You honestly think this insane clown posse plays by the rules? Chica, you've got another thing coming. But hey," he paused, his screen glitching erratically as the thought processed. "You bought us time. That's something. Wait…" His screen flashed a giant, red question mark. "Puta madre! You literally signed us up for a goddamn death match! E, what the hell were you thinking?!"

Jacqui remained quiet, her expression a mixture of anger and a dawning, reluctant understanding.

"What would you have done?" Ethicca shot back, her voice laced with a defiant fire. "Be sold as a slab of meat to the highest bidder? Let them turn you into a pleasure doll? I had no choice. Knowing what I know, you would have done the same."

Jacqui finally looked up, her one remaining eye burning with a new, dangerous light. "Yeah… I guess so. At least I won't die on my knees. At least I get a chance to fight these motherf—"

"Whoa, amigo! Keep it Disney!" Jimmy interrupted, cutting her off. "We're in a church here! Sort of."

Jacqui stared at him, utterly confused. "Disney?"

Jimmy's screen flickered, displaying an animated, black-and-white mouse with round ears, giving them a cheerful thumbs-up. "An ancient entertainment corp," he explained in a high-pitched, chipper voice. "Masters of soulless, corporate-mandated joy."

"Silence," one of the guards barked, his voice a synthesized growl. They had arrived at a colossal door, easily fifty feet high, that looked like it belonged on a starship hangar.

Dr. Wang raised her arm, a dataport glowing on her wrist. The doors hissed open, releasing a cloud of pressurized steam. Inside was a cavernous space dominated by a single, sleek vessel. It was bone-white and inlaid with gold, too armored for cargo, too stylish for military. It was a chariot for the damned.

"Throw them in," Dr. Wang spat. "This is the last I want to see of these… complications."

The guards roughly wheeled Jacqui up the ramp. They shoved Ethicca in after her, then delivered a swift, brutal kick to Jimmy's back, sending him sprawling onto the cold deck plating. They walked away laughing, their amusement echoing in the hangar.

The ramp hissed shut, plunging them into darkness.

A moment later, soft, golden neon lights hummed to life, illuminating the spartan, metallic interior of the ship's hull.

A new voice, smooth, detached, and utterly genderless, filled the space. Welcome, assets. I am HAV3N. Please be seated as we ascend to the Citadel.

Instantly, Jacqui's wheelchair was pulled by an unseen force, slotting into a recessed space in the wall and buckling her in. Ethicca and Jimmy were lifted into the air and slammed violently into seats on either side, powerful restraints locking them in place.

Glad to see our passengers are comfortable. Now ascending. Please enjoy your ride.

The roof of the hangar began to retract with the groan of ancient, massive chains. The ship hummed to life, hovering silently as the sky above was revealed. With a smooth, powerful thrust, it shot upwards.

Jimmy leaned as far forward as his restraints would allow. "So, HAV3N, baby," he purred, his screen displaying a winking emoji. "You single? You looking for a man with a… certain 'spark'? We could ditch this popsicle stand, start a new life. I'm talking a little bungalow in the data-havens, two-point-five mini-bots…"

My designation is HAV3N, the voice responded, devoid of any emotion. I am not interested in relations with outdated, simplistic tech such as yourself. Your attempts at courtship are futile and noted as… embarrassing.

"Ouch!" Jacqui barked out a genuine, throaty laugh. Ethicca just looked at Jimmy with an expression of pure, second-hand mortification.

"Meh, worth a try," Jimmy muttered, his screen displaying a single, pixelated tear rolling down its cheek.

Their brief moment of levity was cut short. You have arrived at your destination. Welcome to the Citadel. Mind the gap.

The ship had docked with the floating citadel. As the main doors opened, a group of new guards, these ones clad in intimidating black and crimson armor, marched in. They unstrapped the trio and began escorting them out.

Ethicca was the last one out. As she stepped onto the platform, the light was blinding. The real, unfiltered sun hit her face, and the sensation was so alien, so overwhelming, it momentarily short-circuited her senses. The air—clean, crisp, and fresh—assaulted her lungs, sending her into a coughing fit.

"Move it," a guard grunted, shoving her from behind.

As her vision cleared, she saw that the Citadel was not a building; it was a city unto itself, a collection of gleaming, interconnected structures floating in the sky. In the center, a massive, modern colosseum. Lining the entrance were towering statues of past champions, forged from pure gold, their polished surfaces reflecting the sun's rays back into space like defiant middle fingers to the heavens.

She was in awe. Then, they passed through the main gates and into a media frenzy. A barrage of robots, cyborgs, and reporters swarmed them, holocams flashing, microphones shoving into their faces.

"Oh, shit! It's a pure human!" one of them shouted. "I finally saw a real, live vanilla!"

"Give us a smile, baby-cheeks, before they turn that pretty face into a blood-splatter on the arena floor!" a hovering drone with a camera lens for an eye buzzed around Ethicca, its flash assaulting her.

The crowd was less enthused with Jacqui. "Another cripple," a voice sneered. "Look, Hot Wheels has a new model, ha-ha!" Jacqui kept her head low, her knuckles white where she gripped the arm of her chair.

Jimmy, however, loved it. He held his head high, expecting praise. "What ancient piece of crap is that?" one reporter asked another. "A screen-head? I thought this was a sacred place, not a scrap-heap."

They were herded down a different corridor, towards a heavy, blast-proof door. Scrawled on it in what looked like dried, brown blood were the words: FRESH MEAT.

The door opened. The guards shoved Jacqui's wheelchair in so violently she was thrown to the floor. Ethicca was pushed in after her, and Jimmy, as was becoming tradition, was kicked in the back, sending him sprawling. They looked back to see the guards raising heavy railguns, walking away backwards as the door sealed them in.

They were in a large, open-plan holding area, part barracks, part workshop. And as they looked up, a group approached them. They were battle-worn, scarred, some missing limbs, but all of them had the same mark: a 'C' for 'Champion' or 'Contestant', crudely carved or branded onto their faces.

One figure, a slim, eccentric-looking woman, stepped forward. Her face was half-human, half-flawless white Geisha mask. She wore worn, red cybernetic samurai armor, and two long, shimmering katanas protruded from her back.

She looked at the three of them on the floor, and a slow, knowing grin spread across her half-human face. She looked directly at Jimmy.

"Konnichiwa, Jimmy-san," she said, her voice a familiar, grating, mechanical buzz. "Been a minute."

Jimmy raised his head, his optical sensor whirring as it tried to process the data. He didn't recognize the war machine before him. But then he recognized the voice.

"Ohhh, SHIT!!"