Chapter 5

Kai’s boots rang against the repair bay grating as the proving ground timer burned at 4:19:03 in the corner of every holoscreen. The prototype mech loomed behind him, lattice still humming from the fresh Void-edge Cascade integration, its fresh +14% capacitor recharge and +22% efficiency already flirting with the 51% structural failure risk. Debt and glory were the same fuel here, and right now both were running hot.

Three of Jorin’s enforcers blocked the exit ramp, matte-black frames gleaming under the broadcast lights. The academy feed was already live, comment counters spiking. Kai planted himself between them and the mech.

“Back off,” he said, voice carrying clear for the mics. “This frame’s mine by salvage lottery. Touch the upgrades and the whole proving ground sees faction muscle trying to steal from Low-Tier 14.”

The lead enforcer smirked, but his eyes flicked to the rising viewer count. “Orders are clear. Unstable prototype gets recalled before it kills someone on live feed. Walk away, kid. Save the repair bills.”

Kai’s gaze never left the man. “I’m not walking. I’m taking the shipyard salvage run. Right now. Double the bounty on the Ark-class core. Activate the debris trajectory override.” He slapped the confirmation panel. The mech’s shoulder pod flared green. A crisp 1.4-second micro-debris prediction window bloomed across his retinal link—numbers that hadn’t existed ten minutes ago.

The enforcers hesitated. The broadcast chat exploded. Kai felt the shift like thrust vectoring under his feet: the mission was public, the stakes doubled, and every faction hunter in the proving ground just got paid more to make him fail.

Sera’s voice cut low through his private comm. “Kai, lattice stress is already climbing. You just painted a bigger target.”

“I know,” he answered without turning. “But now they can’t take the frame without the whole academy watching them steal glory.”

The lead enforcer stepped closer, voice dropping. “You think this makes you untouchable? The faction leader decides what’s glory and what’s scrap.”

Kai smiled, thin and sharp. “Then tell her to watch.”

He turned back to the mech as the enforcers retreated, muttering into their own channels. The timer ticked to 4:17:41.

Inside the bay, Sera was already at the console, coolant lines snaking across the floor. “We have maybe twenty minutes before they find a regulation to shut us down. Lock the Cascade or lose it.”

Kai climbed the access rig, sliding into the familiar cockpit cradle. “Push it. Full sync on the new data layer.”

Sera’s fingers flew. Warning glyphs flared crimson—lattice micro-fractures widening—but the module answered. The Void-edge Cascade snapped live. Capacitor recharge climbed visibly on the main board: +14% steady, efficiency holding at +22%. The weapon spines along the mech’s forearms crackled with contained void energy, ready to slice through debris fields like paper.

“Structural risk now 51%,” Sera reported, voice tight. “One bad hit and the whole frame folds. But the prediction window just sharpened another tenth of a second.”

Kai felt the new power settle into his nerves like fresh wiring. Options he hadn’t had yesterday were suddenly real. “Worth it. Prep the launch for the shipyard. We’re not waiting.”

The bay doors hissed. Commander Ryn—Faction Leader Serris’s right hand—strode in flanked by two more guards. “Unauthorized weapon-mode integration. Power down and surrender the prototype.”

Kai didn’t flinch. “Already logged and broadcast. Try to stop me and the feed shows the academy choking its own talent. Again.”

Ryn’s jaw worked. Sera kept her eyes on the console, but her shoulders were rigid. The standoff stretched three heartbeats before Ryn gave a curt nod. “The run is live in forty minutes. Fail, and the recall order goes through regardless of bounty.” He turned on his heel.

The moment the doors sealed, Sera exhaled. “That bought us time. Not much.”

Kai flexed the new Cascade through a diagnostic cycle. The energy danced clean. “Time’s all we need to turn this into proof they can’t ignore.”

He left the bay with the timer at 4:12:09, the doubled bounty already pinging every hunter channel, and the taste of irreversible commitment thick on his tongue.

In the briefing hall the walls pulsed with countdown overlays. Kai stood alone at the tactical table, the Blackreach shipyard schematic rotating above it—twisted wreckage, floating reactor cores, and debris clouds thick enough to shred standard frames. The Ark-class core buried at the center was worth more glory than most pilots saw in a year. His fingers traced the optimal ingress path, the new 1.4-second prediction window painting ghost trajectories across the hologram.

A sharp ping. Jorin’s face filled a side screen, smirk already in place. “Low-Tier 14 thinks he can play in the big yard? Public duel confirmed for Sector Seven the second you limp back—if you limp back. Try not to embarrass yourself on feed.”

Kai didn’t look up from the map. “Salvage first, Jorin. Then I’ll give you the duel you’re begging for. Try to keep your cockpit intact this time.”

Sera’s voice crackled in. “Kai, stabilizers are marginal. Prioritize the core, but if the lattice hits 68% stress, abort. We’re not trading your life for scrap.”

He killed the comm for a second, letting the timer’s red digits burn into his vision: 4:02:17. The rival’s challenge was a distraction, but a loud one. Every second spent answering it was a second not spent claiming the core that could push him out of low-tier for good.

Kai routed auxiliary power to the prediction suite and committed. “Salvage run takes priority. Duel can wait until I’m carrying the core.” The words felt like locking a safety off.

The hall speakers chimed. “Shipyard salvage retrieval—live broadcast in thirty minutes. Pilot Kai, Low-Tier 14, frame designation Scrapwright. Bounty doubled per faction charter.”

He closed the schematic. The next ceiling was already visible, and it had teeth.

The shipyard zone opened around him like a metal graveyard under harsh academy spotlights. Kai’s mech dropped from the deployment rail into zero-g drift, thrusters flaring cold blue. The live feed counter ticked into the millions. Debris tumbled in lazy arcs—shards that could core a frame in a heartbeat.

The new prediction window lit up. 1.4 seconds of clean ghost paths. He twisted the controls and the mech slid between two tumbling girders with room to spare. The Ark-class core beacon pulsed dead ahead, half-buried in a collapsed carrier spine.

“Cascade online,” he muttered, triggering a short burst. Void-edge energy lanced out, shearing a jagged plate that had been drifting into his path. The capacitor recharged visibly faster—+14% wasn’t just a number anymore; it was breathing room.

Cheers rolled across the public channel. Then the faction hunters arrived—three unmarked frames peeling off the perimeter, weapons hot, bounty pings screaming.

Kai grinned inside the cockpit. “Come on then.”

He pushed the prototype harder. The mech surged, lattice groaning but holding. A hunter’s plasma lance scorched past; Kai’s prediction suite painted the next three seconds and he rolled, counter-firing with the Cascade. Void energy carved through the attacker’s shield like it wasn’t there. The hunter spun away trailing sparks.

Second hunter closed. Kai feinted left, then slammed thrusters right. The new efficiency let him pivot tighter than the enemy expected. His grappler arm shot out, magnetic clamps locking onto the exposed Ark-class core. The weight hit like a freight train, but the reinforced actuators—paid for by the last risky upgrade—held.

Stress readings spiked: 47%… 53%… 59%.

Sera’s voice cut in urgent. “Kai, lattice is flexing. You’ve got the core—extract!”

He didn’t answer. The third hunter was already lining up a kill shot. Kai poured power into the Cascade. The weapon spines ignited in a blooming edge of void-light. The blast caught the hunter mid-burn, shearing its main thruster pod clean off. The enemy frame cartwheeled into a debris cloud.

The core was his.

Public feed exploded with fresh rank projections. Low-Tier 14 was already flickering toward Low-Tier 11 on the live ladder. The prototype had just rewritten the math in front of everyone.

Then Commander Ryn’s voice rolled across every channel, calm and final.

“Effective immediately, proving ground closure accelerated by three full days. All frames and pilots report for recall assessment at 06:00 station time. Glory window just got smaller, pilots. Use it wisely.”

The timer in Kai’s HUD lurched forward. What had been hours became days ripped away in a single broadcast sentence.

He gripped the controls tighter, the salvaged core locked securely in his claw, new power still singing through the frame. The doubled bounty, the hunters, the rival waiting in Sector Seven—none of it had gone away. It had only grown teeth.

And somewhere behind the cameras, the faction leader was already reshaping the ladder into something sharper.

Kai throttled toward extraction, the mech’s lattice creaking under fresh stress, the next ceiling already burning brighter than the last.

The real climb had just been made mandatory.