The Rising Debt
The Tier 4 logistics bay hummed with the sterile, aggressive frequency of high-grade maintenance drones, a stark contrast to the rusted scrap-heaps of the lower floors. Kaelen Vane stood before the central terminal, his hands still trembling from the heat-sync stress of his last climb. The Iron Lung, his salvaged prototype frame, occupied the bay behind him, its cooling vents hissing as layers of grime—the residue of three floors of combat—were stripped away by automated jets. He tapped the display to authorize a standard intake of cooling fluid and structural sealant. The screen flashed a harsh, blinding red: NOTICE: MANDATORY MAINTENANCE TAX: 45,000 CREDITS. ACCESS DENIED UNTIL SETTLED.
Kaelen felt the blood drain from his face. The figure was precise, calculated to the last credit of his recent broadcast winnings. A heavy boot clicked against the metal grating behind him. A logistics clerk, draped in the pristine white-and-gold livery of the Tower’s internal security, leaned against a support pillar, his gaze fixed on his tablet with practiced indifference.
“The tax is non-negotiable, Vane,” the clerk said, his voice smooth and devoid of empathy. “Your frame is officially classified as a ‘System Anomaly.’ The higher-ups are tired of your unauthorized data dumps. Pay the fee, or the recall protocol initiates in exactly one hundred and twenty minutes. You know the rules: if the frame isn't maintained, the Tower reclaims the hardware.”
Kaelen didn't look back. He pulled his own terminal, forcing a local override. “I’ve seen the ledger, clerk. This isn't maintenance. This is a siphon. You’re routing these credits directly into the grid to offset the city's power deficit.”
The clerk’s indifference flickered, replaced by a sharp, predatory grin. “And who’s going to stop us? The public? They’re already addicted to the spectacle of your climb. They don't care if you're bankrupt by sunset.”
Kaelen turned, his eyes locking onto the man’s smug expression. “Then I won’t pay you a single credit. If the Tower wants to play games with my frame, I’ll source the parts from the under-ring. And when I clear the next floor with a frame you didn't touch, the public will know exactly who’s rigging the ladder.”
He bypassed the
Preview ends here. Subscribe to continue.