Location: Rustline District, Maatari — The Live Wire
Time: 09:00 PM
The prep hold throbbed with the residue of the last match. Se'lo smoke still curling off the rails, the air thick with static and sweat. Khaz sat on a supply crate, shoulder banded where the earlier shock had bruised deep. Tre'co's presence pulsed steady beneath the skin, low and patient, like a drum beneath silence.
Monitors on the far wall cycled through replays: beasts collapsing, glyphs detonating too soon, fighters carted off half conscious. The crowd above rumbled through the walls like a contained storm.
Spots leaned in the doorway, headset crooked. "You good?"
Khaz rolled his wrist once. "Enough."
Spots snorted. "Good. Because Velari Jinn isn't a tank like Kurg. She's Centertide. All flow and tempo. She doesn't hit hard until you miss your beat. Don't."
Khaz stood, pulling his gloves tight. "Then I won't."
"Don't make me lie to the Syndies if you die in there."
He passed Spots without looking back. "Then don't."
➤ LIVE WIRE BRACKET — BEAST ROUND (QUALIFIER II)
Sage: Velari Jinn
T'alü Alignment: Centertide
Se'lo Archetype: Flow Dancer
T'alü Beast(s): Ripple Seraph
Type: Spectral Serpentine Avian
The Glyph Field shimmered awake, etching blue sigils across wet steel. The crowd's noise folded into a low hum that vibrated in the ribs.
Velari Jinn stepped into the light, body limned in cyan aura. Her Ripple Seraph circled above. It was a ghost-serpent with feathered wings that shed waterlight each time they beat. Every motion she made was measured, beautiful, deadly.
The bell cracked.
Velari slid a hand through the air. "Cascade Layer."
[Field Glyph: Cascade Layer]
The floor liquefied. The metal turning to moving currents. Glyph-light pulsed beneath each plate like heartbeat waves. The entire arena flowed sideways.
She spun again. "Pulse Array."
[Field Glyph: Pulse Array]
The flow broke. Sections of the floor exploded upward in sharp columns of cyan steam, turning the pit into a maze of pressure bursts and sliding paths.
Khaz kept his stance low, moving with the motion instead of fighting it. His chain flared indigo as he matched the shifting rhythm, reading the interval between her breath and each glyph ignition.
The Seraph swooped from above. Its wing-edge cut across his shoulder with a flash of heat. Pain stabbed, clean and bright. He pivoted away, jaw tight, blood wetting his collar.
The crowd erupted.
The ghost bled again.
Tre'co burst from Khaz's shadow, triple heads flaring with spectral fire. The Seraph met him mid-air; water and flame collided in a cyclone that lit the entire pit like a storm inside a glass jar.
Velari twisted through her own current, each step a perfect beat to her glyphs. Her hands cut the air, tracing rings of light that chased Khaz across the floor. He ducked under one, let another graze his arm, learning her pattern.
Her timing was flawless. Until he fractured it.
Khaz stepped half a beat ahead, sliding with the shifting plates.
Velari casted too late. The glyph misfired.
He closed in, hands glowing.
"Bind."
[Counter Glyph: Temporal Bind — Short Cycle]
The arena froze. Waterlight hung in the air. The Seraph suspended mid-coil, Velari's hair floating weightless.
Khaz pressed his palm to the nearest sigil, voice low. "Sever."
[Ground Glyph: Se'lo Sever — Burst Compression]
The floor shattered inward with a mute implosion. The frozen field broke like glass. Tre'co surged through the collapse, violet flame tearing the Seraph apart until it dissolved into scattered light.
The field snapped back to motion. Steam and mist rained down as Velari dropped to one knee, aura guttering. Khaz stood across from her, blood still seeping through his sleeve, breathing even.
The bell rang.
The crowd roared so loud the sound blurred. Khaz stepped off the field into the tunnel's cool air, the noise still vibrating in his bones.
>CLASH OVER<
A shadow leaned against the gate wall ahead. Leydren Caldo. He had broad shoulders, skin the color of aged bronze, hair braided tight back from his temples. His Se'lo glow smoldered a low red-gold beneath the skin, Root and Forge interwoven.
He didn't move as Khaz approached.
"You fight clean," Leydren said, tone measured.
Khaz met his eyes. "You watching for strategy or weakness?"
"Same thing."
The air between them intensified.
Two Se'lo fields brushing, indigo and amber sparking briefly before fading.
Leydren pushed off the wall, half-smile forming. "See you in the pit."
He walked past and was gone before the next wave of noise hit.
Spots appeared a moment later, grinning and winded. He tossed Khaz a half-crushed bottle of TapWater+. "Still tastes like shit," he said, "but hey, at least they added lemon."
Khaz caught it, looked toward the balcony where Syndicate figures watched through tinted glass. "Last Rites?"
Spots nodded. "They're calling it. Glyph max. No beasts. Just pulse. You and him."
Khaz's chain pulsed once, faint violet through the steam.
"Then let's end it right."
He turned down the tunnel. Behind him, the crowd's chant rose again.
Behind the tinted glass above the pit, two figures stood in the smoke-hazed dark. The crowd's chant vibrated through the floor, but up here it sounded distant.
Filtered through pulse dampeners and low-band static.
The first man watched without moving, hands clasped behind his back. His voice carried the calm of someone used to control.
"See how he tracks the rhythm?"
The second scoffed. "I see a brawler who got lucky twice. Anybody can swing with a ghost chain and look composed."
"Not anyone," the first replied. "He bleeds once, corrects the pattern. Learns mid-flow. That's rare."
Below them, Khaz stepped through the tunnel haze, the faint indigo glow of his Se'lo cutting through the mist.
"He's not registered," the second muttered. "No sponsor, no bracket contract. You know what that means? Wild pulse. Dangerous."
"Danger," the first said quietly, "is sometimes worth the trouble."
The second leaned on the rail. "You planning to leash him?"
A slow smile in the dark. "If he lives through the finals. Otherwise, I won't have to."
Neither spoke again.
Only the crowd's rising hum filled the silence as the arena lights dimmed for the next round of clashes.