Location: Rustline District, Maatari — The Live Wire
Time: 10:45 PM
The pit looked different now.
No glyphlight flares, no beasts prowling the corners. Now it's just raw steel plates and a haze of exhaust smoke drifting under the rafters. The air carried a pulse of anticipation.
The crowd pressed close, their noise subdued. This wasn't bracket night anymore. This was the ritual from which the sport was birthed.
The kind of match you didn't record, you remembered.
Spots' voice cracked through the speakers, every word soaked in grin and gravel.
"Last Rites, baby! The line between pulse and pain! Let's see who crosses it first."
Khaz stood at the edge of the pit, jacket unzipped, chain dim under his collar. His face unreadable. No theatrics. Just the same steady calm that had followed him through every fight since the Gullies.
Across from him, Leydren "Switch Hands" Caldo rolled his shoulders, firelight gleaming through his forearms. The man's grin was sharp, confident and looked like he'd already solved the math.
When their eyes met, Caldo smirked. "Try not to vanish too quick, ghostboy. I like my fights clean."
Khaz said nothing. He just adjusted his footing.
➤ RUSTLINE BRACKET — SEMIFINAL ROUND
Fighter: Leydren "Switch Hands" Caldo
T'alü Alignment: Core Pulse
Se'lo Archetype: Flare Brawler
The bell didn't ring. It barked with a jagged sound. Metal against metal.
Caldo moved first.
His feet ignited mid-stride, trailing streaks of molten light that stung the air.
When he ceased movement, an ember glyph etched itself under his feet. Casting an deep, burnt orange beam of light beneath him.
He set his stance, readied his hands and ignited his martial flow, flare chain.
[Core Glyph: Flare Chain]
Each hit popped like live wire bursts, the air pulsing with heat distortion.
Khaz shifted sideways, barely avoiding the first volley. His coat caught a lick of flame as he slipped between two strikes, dropping low and exhaling slow through his nose.
The next strike connected. It was a rib shot hot enough to char his bones.
Khaz gritted his teeth and pivoted.
"Lock."
[Defensive Glyph: Signal Lock]
A field shimmered to life around his midsection, catching the next blow and snuffing its heat like sand on embers.
He stepped in closer, hand raised, palm glowing faint violet.
"Shatter."
[Signal Glyph: Echo Break]
The glyph cracked open, releasing a concussive pulse that hit Caldo dead center. The flare fighter stumbled back, light flaring wild across his arms. The feedback loop from his own Se'lo flared and fizzled.
But Caldo wasn't done. He barked out a word, voice strained—
[Core Glyph: Redload Drive]
His entire body lit like a bonfire, energy snapping off his frame in chaotic bursts. He swung through the haze, fists scorching new arcs through the smoke.
Khaz ducked the first. Blocked the second. The third caught his shoulder and spun him half around.
The crowd roared.
Then finally, a hit.
Khaz steadied himself, rolling the shoulder once. His eye luminated with Se'lo.
Caldo came in with another wide hook. Khaz moved inside the swing and flickered out of sync.
His form glitched.
Sliding a few microseconds ahead.
Ghostweaving.
He reappeared behind Caldo and struck the base of his neck with two fingers.
A sharp strike, then silence.
Caldo froze. The fire in his arms blinked out like dying neon.
The bell sounded.
>CLASH OVER<
Khaz exhaled. The light around him dimmed to normal.
Spots' voice echoed through the pit.
"Sometimes he throws hands. Sometimes he rewires your system and walks off like he forgot to care."
The crowd didn't cheer. They just stared as Khaz stepped from the pit, quiet and unhurried, like a storm leaving town.
In the back room,Khaz sat alone on a cracked crate, the noise above muffled by layers of steel.
He tore the wrapper off his second Boot Sugar stick, bit down, and let the static sweetness tingle through his teeth. The aftertaste was metallic, but good for clarity.
Somewhere down the hall, two handlers murmured over a holo-slate.
"Odds are three-to-one on Vost. You betting?"
"Nah. Ghostboy's clean, but Kuraen's a Redload. That's a different breed."
Khaz ignored them. He wasn't listening to talk. He was listening to the muffled static behind the walls. The pulse of the next fight charging up.
He took a deep breath, cracked his neck, and made his way back to the ring.
He was ready.
Spots' voice came back over the mic, this time edged with nerves.
"Alright, you bloodthirsty ruffians, final round. Hope you packed insurance, 'cause this next one might void the warranty."
The floor plates vibrated as Kuraen Vost entered. Broad frame, Root-Forge hybrid current flaring gold through his veins. His footsteps alone rattled the cages of the lower tiers.
Khaz met his eyes from across the pit. Standing calm, still, unreadable.
High above them, two silhouettes leaned over the balcony railing.
One voice spoke, calm and cold.
"Lift the restriction."
A second voice replied smugly.
"Confirmed. I'll let the announcer know."
The PA crackled alive.
"By order of the Syndicate, glyph limits are suspended. Anything goes."
The crowd erupted. Spots' tone cracked mid-laugh.
"That…that's wild, folks! Rustline just went full unregulated. Let's pray for the floor."
Khaz's chain pulsed once, faint violet shimmer tracing the links. Spots muttered low to himself, "They're really tryin' to glitch him out…"
Kuraen reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a small, metallic container.
He open the case, reached in and popped two tabs in his mouth.
WireBite tabs.
Chewable micro-stims invented by Ziro Ren, Spots' uncle. They increase Se'lo conductivity, reflex, and aggression for brief, but explosive bursts of power. Legal in underground brackets, a sin on pro circuits.
Steam hissed from his lips as his Se'lo veins glowed molten gold.
Spots, always a promoter first, almost forgot he was ever worried.
"Triple C Potion, baby! Enhance the Clash, excite the Crowd, and exit with Cash!"
Khaz tilted his head, faint smirk touching the corner of his mouth.
The bell roared.
Kuraen moved. Fast.
Faster than anyone that size had a right to.
Khaz went to weave,
and Kuraen's fist hit him flush across the face.
The impact cracked like a detonation.
Khaz's head snapped sideways, blood blooming from his lip, his body jolted back a full step before catching itself.
The crowd went dead silent.
For the first time, the ghost looked human.