Broadcast Blood

The transition zone between Tier 2 and Tier 3 was a sterile, white-tiled throat, and Kaelen Vane was currently being swallowed. Inside the Iron Lung, the air tasted of ozone and scorched copper. His HUD bled crimson: SYSTEM ANOMALY DETECTED. RECALLING ASSET.

It wasn't a glitch. It was Overseer Thorne’s signature—a digital executioner’s blade designed to bury the prototype module Kaelen had just unearthed.

"Hold the line, Kaelen," Elara’s voice crackled through the encrypted comms, jagged with static. "If the purge reaches the core, you’re not just decommissioned. You’re ghosted. Thorne is trying to wipe the drive."

Kaelen’s fingers flew across the touch-deck, his knuckles white. The Iron Lung groaned, the salvaged joints screaming as the Tower’s remote-override attempted to force a hard-lock of his actuators.

"Then stop playing defense," Elara snapped, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy calm. "The module has a back-door. Force an overclock on the frame’s power regulator. It’ll trigger a localized feedback loop. It buys you ten seconds of system autonomy. Use it."

Kaelen didn't hesitate. He slammed the regulator past the safety redline. The Iron Lung shrieked, a high-pitched whine of metal under impossible stress, and the purge virus recoiled, stalled by the sudden surge of raw, unrefined power. He had his window. He lunged into the Tier 3 arena.

The Tier 3 arena was a sensory assault. The air was thick with the scent of ionized ozone and the collective malice of a thousand spectators who had paid to see the

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