Cybernetic Beast Taming In A Game-like World

Jethro hesitated for a moment.

"You better go, Jethro," Kekius urged quietly. "Don't keep them waiting. You really don't want trouble with the Heads of our own Faction."

Jethro tentatively rose from the cold metal bench, adjusting his clothes to buy a few seconds of composure.

"Bring the Gutterling with you," Nyro called out, his voice carrying easily across the section of the Food Station.

Jethro glanced at him briefly, then lowered his eyes to Scorch. He gently scooped the lizard onto his shoulder; the creature's claws gripped tightly at his fabric as Jethro started toward the table.

As he moved, several heads turned to watch him pass. Whispers followed him as he edged closer to the larger, more commanding table where the Heads of House sat.

"Where's he going?" murmured several voices. More heads turned, including that of Eryn Fenlor, who watched with simmering hatred in his eyes.

Jethro could feel their stares like heavy steel as he drew near.

Fenris was looking at him too, though her gaze was colder than most, before she dismissively returned to the holographic screen above her beastlinker.

Kaden Steelmark's gaze was more studious than anything. He watched Jethro approach their table with his hands folded and his Bolt Hopper curled on his lap. There was something knowing and yet stern in his eyes.

The sense of familiarity intensified for Jethro when he looked at him. The broad shoulders, the single braid resting on the coat, the mechrabbit. Jethro just couldn't place where he knew him from.

"Take a seat, survivor," Nyro said, gesturing to an empty spot on the bench opposite him. Their benches were different compared to others. They had back rests.

Jethro obeyed, sitting stiffly as Scorch pressed close to his neck.

"What the hell is happening?" a whisper floated from the crowd of onlookers.

"No way that Grey Rank trash is sitting with the Heads of House."

"Why would he share a table with the great Leader Fenris and Nyro Vexx?"

"It should've been me!"

Nyros leaned back, swirling his glowing drink, a patronizing smile on his face. "So. Let's cut the nonsense. Class E tamer, Grey Rank. Owner of the weakest mechbeast in all mechbeasts that require a license to own. Bottom of the barrel lizard."

Noa, the girl with cybernetic arms, chuckled. Roderick smirked. Fenris wasn't even listening, while Kaden remained quiet.

"Yet the story says that you walked out of the Darc Throne Depths alive. After facing the Conqueror himself?" He laughed, throwing his arms wide and looking around the table. "How is that even possible, Jethro Merrick from lower Sector Twelve?"

Jethro stayed quiet, initially assuming that it was a rhetorical question. But when he saw that Nyro was actually waiting for an answer, he shrugged. "Exercise?" he offered flatly.

Nyro raised a brow, leaning in. "Exercise?"

Kaden hid a smile.

Noa laughed playfully.

"This one is funny," Nyro said, resting back on the bench and glaring deep into Jethro's crimson eyes. "So you don't know how? You didn't trip and accidentally fall out of the Rift? Or did the Dark Lord of Beasts laugh himself to death after he took one look at your pest-control iguana? Was that how you escaped?"

A cruel grin tore through his face as Noa laughed while Kaden's earlier smile disappeared. "Now that's a funny joke, isn't it?"

Jethro didn't say anything. He began to wonder what the whole point of this even was. Just for mockery? Jethro would've said he expected better from the Heads of House Faction, but honestly, after seeing how nobles acted, he couldn't have been less surprised.

"Come on guys," Nyro goaded. "What are your theories? How do you think a tamer who isn't even powerful enough for the courier role in Rift Squads somehow escaped the lord of Darcness?"

Theories started flying.

"Maybe he hid the whole time. Never even follow them into the Darc Throne Depths and lied so he wouldn't look like a coward."

Jethro thought that one was stupid. 'I must have lit myself on fire while I was at it too. I mean anything to make my lie more believable.'

"Perhaps the Conqueror just… missed him? Maybe he didn't care to kill a low ranked tamer such as him."

"Hah!" Nyro laughed. "Not worthy enough to die by the Conqueror's hands. Now that's a good one."

He turned to his right where Kaden was listening quietly. "Kaden? You're usually good at reading people. Don't you have a take on this miraculous survival?"

Kaden's gaze, cool and assessing, remained fixed on Jethro for a long moment. Then he sighed, his voice flat. "I honestly don't know," he said with nonchalance. "I don't care about low ranked first-years."

Jethro ignored the directed jab, focusing instead on how familiar Kaden's voice sounded.

Nyro snorted. "Mhm. Well I think it's all smoke and mirrors. Fabricated."

Noa and Rod leaned in. Even Fenris turned for a moment to give Nyro a "what are you talking about" look before returning to her beastlinker.

"Beastcorp needs heroes, right?" Nyro continued. "Riftwalkers and Divers are the most important jobs in the world right now, so if the people believe that facing the big scary Conqueror isn't instant death, they wouldn't be afraid to sign up. So they pick a nobody from the Lower Sectors, slap a 'survivor' badge on him, and hope it sticks."

He took a sip of his drink while Noa and Rod thought about it. "A Divergent Rift? Really? When was the last confirmed one? Decades ago! It's way too convenient… and unfortunate for this lower Sector kid."

He turned back to Jethro, his smile turning cruel. "It's good for reputation, sure. Will give you respect, clout. But with a weak beast, no teachers, no talents and no money, you'll never leave up to the hype. And the expectations will crush you."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Grey-Rank is Grey-Rank. Always will be."

A tense silence filled the table after that. Jethro sat rigid, not even angered by Nyro's words. Only humiliated. And that was what made him angry.

Fenris's wrist comm beeped softly, shattering the silence or rather highlighting it in a way. She stood without a word and strode out of the Station, ignoring everyone.

Nyro watched her leave. "Seems like Fenris couldn't handle the truth," he shrugged. "It's understandable since she appears to have fallen in love with you."

Jethro's brows moved slightly.

"A boy from a lower Sector with a Gray-Rank scrap." His eyes landed on Scorch. "I mean, look at this thing." His hand shot faster than Jethro could react. He grabbed Scorch roughly around the middle and brought it close to him.

The Lizard let out a piercing shriek of fear, legs flailing wildly, trying desperately to crawl back towards Jethro.

Jethro stood abruptly. "Let him—!"

"Stay calm."

He felt himself pulled back down to the bench. The command came from Rod, his deep voice like an earthquake. "He won't hurt the lizard," he assured Jethro when he looked at him.

Jethro stayed still, trembling with suppressed rage, knowing he couldn't do anything to them. He was utterly powerless compared to anyone. Even more with them.

Nyro laughed, planting his index finger firmly on the tip of Scorch's tail, pinning it down on the table. "You expect us to believe this Gutterling saved you from the Conqueror?!"

Scorch froze for a split second, then tried to run to Jethro. But when it realized it was pinned, unable to return to its master, the lizard erupted in frantic, high-pitched shrieks and whimpers.

Its little body convulsed, legs scrabbling uselessly against the slick surface, tail straining against the immovable pressure. Tears seemed to well in its bulbous eyes as it let out desperate, pained cries.

"Look at it!" Nyro laughed, delighted. "Can't even save itself from a finger! Crying and struggling like a bug!"

The others at the table, Noa and Rod, chuckled at the spectacle. Kaden just watched with an emotionless face.

But for Jethro, none of this was amusing to him. In fact, he was infuriated. More infuriated than he had ever been. Seeing Scorch crying— struggling to reach him yet held back by a mere finger that felt like a mountain —and Nyro's mocking gaze: the brutal reality of their power difference.

Something inside Jethro snapped because of it, and it cut through every thread of caution. He didn't think. He didn't plan. He just acted.

His fist, fueled by pure, protective fury, rocketed alongside his lunging body. Surprisingly, it connected with Nyro's jaw, snapping his head violently to the side.

Nyro's grip on Scorch's tail vanished. The free lizard scrambled quickly, leaping back onto Jethro's shoulder, but still trembling violently.

Everyone was shocked. Frozen. The laughter had already disappeared, and utter silence filled the entire Station.

All eyes just saw a Class E Grey-Rank tamer punch a Class A Black-Rank Tamer. Noa, Rod and Kaden stared between Nyro and Jethro, shocked that it had just happened.

Finally, in slow, terrifying motion, Nyro turned his head back, his expression one of stunned disbelief and rising anger. The air startled to crackle, and Nyro's eyes began to glow with fierce blue lightning.

Jethro stared at his own fist, then at Nyro's unscarred face. That was when he realized what he'd just done. He managed a weak, breathless attempt at levity, stepping backwards. "I mean... all things considered... we're even now, yeah?"

Nyro's glare was pure, incandescent fury. "You scrap feeding bastard!!" he snarled with rage.

Jethro sighed regrettably. "Guess not."

The next thing he felt was utter, profound, terrible pain on his face. And then through his entire body like a thunderous rippling effect. He knew he had been thrown off his feet and flying backwards through the air, but only realized it after his body had crashed into a wall of steel.

Darkness quickly swarmed at the edges of his vision. His entire body wracked in pain.

"What the hell was that, Nyro?" Rod said. "You put way too much power into that punch."

"What?" Nyro scoffed furiously. "That was just my punch at basic power. The fragile trash just can't handle the taste of lightning!"

Jethro really wished he could move or speak in that moment, because he had the perfect, wittiest response to that statement. But he was fading fast.

The very last voice he heard before the darkness took him was Kaden Steelemark's who seemed to be standing in front of him.

"Shit. We're gonna have to call the healers."