The arena gates slid open with a long, hydraulic hiss.Cold air spilled through the seam as Reever stepped forward, rifle raised, the blue light of the chamber glinting off the plates of his armor. The arena was vast—circular, walled with steel panels that pulsed faintly with electric light. The air carried a metallic tang, heavy with the scent of heated plasma and ozone.
Across the field, the Kill Bot emerged from its own gate. Tall. Broad. Plated in black alloy with streaks of crimson energy pulsing like veins beneath the surface. Its red optic flickered once—steady, measured—locking onto him with an intelligence that was almost human.
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then a short tone pierced the air.
[SIMULATION BEGIN.]
Reever moved first.
He dove into cover behind a low barricade, rifle snapping up as he fired in quick, controlled bursts. Plasma bolts tore through the haze, painting streaks of blue light across the chamber. Each impact sizzled against the metallic walls, scattering sparks into the air.
The Kill Bot advanced through the barrage without hesitation. Every stride was deliberate, its return fire crackling like thunder. Blue bolts slammed into the floor where Reever had been a second before, leaving molten craters in their wake.
Reever shifted positions, keeping low, never staying still long enough for the bot's targeting systems to lock on. He returned fire, each shot aimed for the head, for the joints—any weakness he could exploit.
The bot countered every move.
They circled one another—hunter and prey, though which was which changed with every heartbeat. Sparks danced between them as rounds collided midair, the noise of clashing metal echoing through the dome. The floor became a patchwork of glowing scars, each mark a reminder of how close death could come.
Reever rolled to his right, dropped to one knee, and steadied his aim. The Crossfire's barrel glowed bright blue as he unleashed a concentrated burst. The shots hit home, slamming into the Kill Bot's shoulder. Metal exploded outward in a shower of molten fragments.
The machine staggered, one arm faltering slightly. Reever didn't waste the chance—he realigned his sights and squeezed the trigger again.
Too slow.
The Kill Bot surged forward with blinding speed, a blur of black and red. Its leg swept up, a single brutal kick connecting with the barrel of Reever's rifle. The weapon flew from his hands, clattering away into the darkness.
Reever swore under his breath, diving aside as the bot's plasma blast scorched the ground where he'd been standing. His HUD flared red—damage warning.
He reached instinctively for his sidearm.
The Kill Bot was already there.
Its punch slammed into his chestplate with the force of a wrecking ball. The impact sent him skidding backward, armor sparking against the floor. He swung back—one, two, three blows—but his fists might as well have been hitting a wall. The bot's armor barely dented.
Another hit connected—a hammering strike to his jaw, followed by a knee to his gut. The final blow, an elbow to the head, sent his vision flickering in waves of static.
He tried to steady himself, raising his guard, but the machine was relentless. Every motion was efficient, calculated—no wasted movement, no emotion, no hesitation. It was the purest form of combat.
A single punch landed square in his chest.
The sound was deep, hollow, final.
Reever's body flickered violently, energy tearing through his circuits. He felt himself destabilizing—his entire being fracturing into particles of light. His form disintegrated piece by piece until nothing was left but a cloud of glowing fragments drifting through the dark air.
The Kill Bot stood motionless amid the settling dust, red optic gleaming coldly in the silence.
Then—static.White light flooded his vision.
And silence again.
When Reever's senses returned, he was no longer in the arena. The ground beneath him was smooth, reflective. He stood in his personal lobby—a vast chamber suspended in a sea of digital light. The architecture pulsed and shifted like a living machine, walls of translucent glass and flowing code rearranging themselves in patterns that felt almost alive.
A chime echoed softly.
[SYSTEM: Simulation Terminated.][Status: You have been eliminated.][Processing combat results…]
Lines of glowing data scrolled rapidly in front of him—headshots, accuracy, total kills, time to elimination. The numbers ticked upward one by one, freezing at the end in bright, sharp text.
[Performance Grade: S–][Reward Chest Generated.]
Reever tilted his head slightly. "S-minus? Not bad for getting my face punched off."
A small golden chest materialized on a nearby podium, its edges lined with swirling light. It pulsed gently, waiting. Reever stepped forward and placed his hand on the lid.
It opened with a resonant hum, releasing a surge of pixelated brilliance. The golden light flared, briefly flooding the lobby in warm color before fading into clarity. Inside the chest lay three new weapon modules—sleek, elegant, and gleaming with potential. Two were plasma sidearms, compact and efficient; the third, an upgraded rifle with a longer barrel and enhanced stabilizers. Energy lines ran across its frame like living veins.
[Weapons successfully integrated into player loadout.]
Reever lifted the rifle from the chest, testing its weight. It was heavier than the Crossfire-44, but better balanced. The grip molded perfectly to his hand. He rotated it once, sighted down the barrel, and smiled faintly.
"The system might have killed me," he murmured, "but at least it has good taste."
Still, the satisfaction faded quickly. The memory of the Kill Bot lingered—the precision of its movements, the unflinching brutality. It hadn't been just another AI. Kill bots were true master in the fields and were almost unbeatable.
He lowered the rifle slowly, his gaze drifting to the floating console nearby. It pulsed once, then displayed a new notification.
[Auxiliary Module: Access Denied.][
Clear next simulation to unlock privileges.]
That line again. The same gate he couldn't open. The mystery that taunted him like a riddle locked behind invisible walls.
Reever sighed, a low metallic rasp. "You really like your secrets, don't you?"
The lobby dimmed slightly as the system reconfigured itself. A new message appeared in front of him, sharp and clear:
[Do you wish to enter another simulation?][YES / NO]
He didn't hesitate. His hand rose, finger hovering just long enough for a wry grin to tug at his lips.
"Round two," he said softly. "Let's see who dies this time."
He pressed YES.
The lobby dissolved instantly, data fracturing around him like glass. Blue pixels swirled upward in a storm, wrapping him in light as the next world began to assemble. The hum of the system grew louder, building into a deep mechanical roar.
Reever stood calm in the chaos, eyes steady, rifle gripped tight.
Another arena awaited—another chance to hunt, to learn, to break the limits the system tried so hard to impose.
As the new world finished loading, a faint voice whispered through the static, almost too soft to hear:
"Welcome back, BOT 067."
And then the light swallowed him whole.