Chapter 135: Fire Slicer
Paul leaned back, dark complexion blending with the dim corner, his glass shards orbiting in a lazy spiral. "Could be worse," he said, voice smooth but tired, popping a crumb into his mouth. "B Block’s rations are half this." His shards glinted, catching a guard’s eye at the retinal scanner near the door.
Junijo slouched beside him, lanky frame hunched, blue-streaked hair falling into his eyes. His chameleon Ikona clung to his arm, shifting from purple to gray, its nervous eyes darting. He poked the porridge, spoon trembling, and muttered, "Barely worth the points." His tray rattled as he shifted, boots scuffing the floor.
Tidwell grinned, sprawled in his chair, tossing a bread chunk and catching it. "Points, huh? Bet I could trade this slop for a system quest." His cloud Ikona drifted above, wisps curling like smoke, its fluffy form belying the tension in his grip. He flicked his eyes to a guard, who muttered to another, "Elara’s kill was one of seven—system’s chewing through us."
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.