Chapter 134: Finger Smash
Elias’s shard pulsed against his chest, a steady thump, his spoon pausing mid-air. The guard’s words hung, sharp in the cafeteria’s din—clattering trays, low voices, the hum of screens. He glanced at Kikaru, her jaw tight, then at Asurik, alone at a corner table. His hazel eyes locked on Kikaru, dark hair falling over his brow, lips curling. "B Block’s chasing shadows," he said, loud enough for Elias to hear, his shard glowing faintly at his wrist.
Faye slid onto the bench, red hair catching the light, dark eyeliner framing her eyes. Her bird-like Ikona perched on her shoulder, feathers shimmering like sound waves, humming a soft melody. The notes wove through the air, a shimmering wave that brushed the table, easing Junijo’s trembling spoon. "Morning," she said, voice light, tray untouched, her smile faint but warm.
"Some morning," Tidwell snorted, tossing his bread again. "System’s got us eating dirt and waiting for the arena to chew us up." His Ikona swirled, tendrils snapping playfully, but his knuckles whitened on the table’s edge.
Elias’s comm buzzed, a sharp chime cutting through the chatter. He flicked it open, the screen glowing: "Daily task: equipment check, 20 points." Dot’s spun, her glow dimming. "Busywork," she said, voice flat. "System’s keeping us on a leash." Elias pocketed the comm, shard pulsing hotter, the words "94 shard users" burning in his mind.
Kikaru pushed her tray away, eyes narrowing at Asurik. "Ignore him," she muttered, fingers tapping her Ikona’s orb. "He’s fishing for trouble." Her voice was low, but the tension in her shoulders screamed louder, Asurik’s warning from yesterday—her family’s past, her agenda—lingering like a bruise.
Faye’s melody softened, her Ikona’s wave pulsing gently, brushing Elias’s arm. He exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of understanding. "Eat," she said, nodding at his tray. "You’ll need it." Her Ikona hummed again, a single note lingering, steadying the air.
Elias forced a bite, the porridge gritty on his tongue, shard pulsing in time with the cafeteria’s hum. The screens flickered, guards shifted, and Asurik’s stare burned, the Primed Epics’ shadow creeping closer with every word.
The corridors stretched bright and sterile, modular screens lining the walls, flashing training logs and stats in cold blue. Elias’s boots echoed, the air heavy with ozone, a faint tang of recycled metal clinging to his throat. Kikaru walked beside him, her Ikona dim, her silence thicker than the corridor’s hum. Paul followed, glass shards orbiting tighter, his eyes on a guard’s rifle at a checkpoint. Junijo shuffled, his chameleon Ikona flickering nervously, while Tidwell’s grin stayed sharp, his cloud Ikona trailing like mist.
Dot’s bobbed ahead, her glow faint. "System’s got us running errands," she said, voice edged with disgust. "Equipment check? Might as well clean the guards’ boots." Elias’s comm buzzed again, screen glowing: "94 shard users, spiritual contest active." The words hit like a stone, the Entertainer’s death matches lurking in the night’s sleep, a fight they’d face in hours.