Meldenma rode her bike through the nearly empty streets, the last shades of dusk melting into darkness. By the time she reached the city's edge, it was already night. Before heading home, she stopped briefly to grab some groceries—just the essentials. Once home, she dropped the bags on the floor without a glance. The house was neat, everything perfectly in place—except the scattered grocery bags lying untouched.
She lay down on her bed, closed her eyes—not to sleep, but to escape, even if just for a moment. But peace didn't come. She couldn't rest. Something inside her churned—restlessness... or maybe it was anger.
As soon as darkness took full hold of the city, she stepped out again—this time on foot.
The city was always more alive at night. Most people finished their tasks by day, and the night was their time for indulgence. But Meldenma had different plans.
Tonight, she wore a long, deep-black coat that flowed down to her ankles, hiding a tight top and flexible pants—tailored for silent movement and quick attacks. Her high boots tapped rhythmically on the pavement as she walked deeper into the sleeping city.
After several turns, she reached a forgotten edge of the city—a massive junk zone where discarded machines and broken Celestes were dumped like trash. No one came here. No one cared to. It was a wasteland of cold metal.
She moved through the towering heaps of broken steel like a ghost, silent and focused. And then—she stopped.
Among the wreckage, she spotted it.
The torn remains of A5.
You didn't need to be an expert to see—this wasn't the work of the crusher. Celer had already done his job. Thoroughly. Brutally.
Meldenma stared at the remains for a long moment, her voice low, edged with venom.
> "Five years… he served this city. Chased orders like a damn dog behind his Duces. And yet… they didn't even bother to destroy him properly. Just dumped him here… like scrap."
She inhaled deeply, but it wasn't peace she sought—it was control.
Then she moved forward again, her steps steady and cold.
She finally reached a secure gate. A card scanner awaited. She pulled out her access card and swiped it without hesitation. A second scanner emerged—retinal. She leaned in, and the machine scanned her eye.
A beep.
A green light.
And slowly, the heavy steel gate began to open.
As the heavy gate creaked open, Meldenma wasn't surprised to find a familiar face waiting on the other side.
It was the same guard—Black—the one she had spoken to outside the arena earlier that day, seated casually in the dimly lit control room.
Black (smirking):
> "Didn't expect to see you at the arena today. If you wanted to watch the fight, you should've shown up earlier."
Meldenma (with a dry smile):
> "Change of plans. Last-minute. Anyway—thanks."
Black:
> "Mm-hmm… So, who do you wanna fight tonight?"
Meldenma (coolly):
> "Someone untouched. Fresh. Not tired out from earlier rounds."
Black chuckled and nodded toward a dim hallway.
Black:
> "Then go for the guy in the weapon room—Jax. Skinny dude, always looks half-dead or high. He's new here, showed up a few months ago. Doesn't come often… just when he needs to let off steam."
Meldenma turned toward the shadowy figure inside the weapon room.
He looked frail, messy hair falling into his dull eyes, like he hadn't slept in days—or maybe just didn't care. He was examining weapons without urgency, like nothing in the world really mattered.
Meldenma (coldly):
> "I meant a fighter. Not some drugged-up junkie."
Black (shrugging):
> "Don't judge too fast. That 'junkie' might surprise you. He's got fight in him—when he decides to show up."
Without a word, Meldenma stepped past him and walked directly toward the weapon room. Her eyes locked on the boy named Jax.
Meldenma (firmly):
> "Will you fight me?"
Jax (without looking up):
> "I only spend money on girls when they're lying next to me in bed."
Her jaw tightened, but her voice stayed calm.
Meldenma:
> "Win this fight, and you get 500,000 N credits. All yours."
Jax slowly turned, eyes narrowing as a crooked grin spread across his face.
Jax (laughing):
> "Forget the money. I'll bet on you. If you lose, you sleep with me—for a whole month. Anytime I'm pissed, bored, or just feel like it... you're mine. Hell, starting tonight."
There was silence for a moment. Then Meldenma nodded.
Meldenma (cool and sharp):
> "Fine. But I have conditions."
Jax (mocking):
> "Damn. You're really betting that big, fat ass of yours? Gutsy. I like it. Say the terms.
Meldenma:
> "No knives. No heavy weapons. Only simple tools."
Jax (scoffing):
> "What now—you want me to fight you with spoons and forks?"
Meldenma:
> "Exactly."
Jax paused. Then let out a wild laugh.
Jax:
> "Alright, I'm in. First round—just us. No patience, no games."