Chapter 136: Blaster’s Barrel
Faye sat on the floor, humming, her bird-like Ikona weaving a shimmering disc from the melody, its edges pulsing with sound. The disc hovered, steadying Junijo’s trembling hands, his Ikona shifting to purple. "Thanks," he mumbled, Faye’s smile soft, her eyes distant but kind.
A woman passed the doorway, her snake-like Ikona coiled around her arm, scales glinting under the light. She glanced at the group, eyes cold, then moved on, boots clicking down the corridor. Asurik leaned in the doorframe, shard glowing at his wrist, his voice low. "B Block’s itching for chaos," he said, eyes on Kikaru. "No scanners, no leashes."
Elias’s shard pulsed, cards slipping in his fingers. Kikaru froze, her Ikona flaring gold, then turned away, jaw tight. "Keep dreaming," she muttered, her voice sharp, fingers clenching her orb. Asurik’s lips twitched, his gaze lingering, then he slipped out, the corridor’s hum swallowing his steps.
A comm buzzed, screens flashing: "94 shard users, arena at 0000." The room stilled, Tidwell’s knife pausing mid-air, Paul’s shards slowing. Junijo’s Ikona dimmed, his breath hitching. Faye’s melody faltered, her disc dissolving, but she hummed again, softer, steadying the air.
Tidwell tossed his knife, grinning. "Elara’s ice-cold kill, one of seven," he said, voice light but forced. "System’s keeping score." His Ikona swirled, tendrils playful, but his eyes flicked to the screen, the Entertainer’s arena looming. Paul snorted, shards glinting. "She’s a machine," he said, leaning back, his fatigue heavier now.
Elias dealt another card, shard pulsing hot, his fingers brushing the metal edges. "Seven down," he said, voice low, the arena’s weight settling in his chest. Faye’s hum pulsed, her Ikona weaving a faint wave, brushing Junijo’s arm. He exhaled, his Ikona shifting to blue, steadier now.
Kikaru stopped pacing, her Ikona dimming, eyes on the screen. "System’s barbaric," she muttered, fingers tapping her orb, her blond hair catching the dim light. The lounge’s air pressed heavy, vents humming, the arena’s shadow stretching over them all.
The training zone smelled of sweat and metal, worn mats creaking under Elias’s boots, dented dummies patched with tape. Screens glowed with training logs, vents humming overhead, the air thick with ozone. Elias knelt by a dummy, Dot’s manifesting a wrench, its metal cool in his hand. He tightened a bolt, her glow flickering. "System’s petty," she said, voice sharp. "Bolts for points?"
Paul stood nearby, glass shards carving air patterns, precise but slow, his breath heavy. "Keeps us moving," he said, shards glinting, his eyes on a screen flashing "94 shard users." Junijo’s chameleon Ikona clung to a dummy, portal rippling—then collapsing. "Fuck," he spat, sweat dripping, his blue-streaked hair sticking to his brow.
Kikaru dodged a shard, her Ikona flaring gold, pivoting with a grunt. "Focus, Junijo," she said, voice cutting, her blond hair sticking to her neck. She glanced at Elias, eyes sharp, then away, the lounge’s tension—Asurik’s words—still clinging to her.