Strength isn't forged in victory—it's discovered in desperation."
— Commander Vyce Seran, UNS Vanguard Doctrine
---
DUEL ASCENSION – SEMIFINAL 3: Kale Drayen vs. Kora Veil
The arena reconfigured itself again—this time into a simulation of a abandoned industrial station in low orbit. Narrow catwalks. Scalding steam vents. Trap-implanted walls. Gravity at 0.6G with random flux.
Perfect hostile territory.
Kale cracked his neck. Kora holstered her rifle and slapped in a new cell.
"Of all people," she said, smirking.
He met her gaze. "No holding back."
"I never do."
---
Round Start
> 3…
2…
1…
DUEL COMMENCE.
Kora moved like smoke. She vanished into the mist, using the terrain for cover. Kale crept forward cautiously, scanning for movement, releasing a short-range sensor sweep from his belt.
Static.
Then—
Ping.
He sidestepped as a shot screamed past his shoulder. Another clipped his shoulder guard.
He dropped into a roll, taking cover behind a hanging walkway beam. His visor auto-tagged heat signatures, but the shifting environment warped their readings.
Kora picked this map for a reason, Kale thought sourly.
---
Tactical Reversal
He baited her.
Fired a flare round, loud and wide, to make himself look helpless. Then retreated, climbed into the upper gantry and lay in wait.
Kora took the bait. She emerged from steam to mark him on the leg—and crashed head-on into a kinetic tripmine Kale had magnetized to the ceiling.
It exploded in mid-air.
Not hard enough to render her unconscious—but it smashed her into a pipe wall, dazing her.
Kale closed the distance fast.
---
Close Quarters
She retaliated with a flurry of blows—a ribs-first elbow, topped by a flash-round from her wrist. He accepted it, sliding low, catching her ankle.
They grappled in low grav. A brutal dance of leverage and angles.
Kora broke free, gasping. "You always have a move waiting."
Kale didn't answer.
Instead, he came in on a feint-kick, pushed her guard high—and caught her off guard with a stun-pulse to the hip.
She cried out and fell to one knee.
He closed in.
She rolled sideways and fired at close range.
The pulse went wide.
But it caught him on the left arm.
They backed away, panting, heavy-breathing.
One more exchange would decide it.
---
The Final Blow
They charged.
Kora aimed high—dazzling maneuver.
Kale aimed low—disrupting equilibrium.
She dropped a flashbomb.
He activated noise-cancelling visors.
And then—he caught her mid-air with a shoulder slam, pinning her to the deck.
One strike to her chestplate—
> "WINNER – KALE DRAYEN."
---
Aftermath
Kora lay beneath him, blinking up through sweat and smoke. Then smiled.
"Figures you'd win ugly."
He offered a hand. "You nearly had me."
"I know." She grinned, groaning as she stood. "Which is the worst part."
---
Observation Deck
Vice Marshal Tern didn't speak.
But his knuckles were white on the railing.
Rear Admiral Solen nodded thoughtfully. "He improvises for each adversary. He doesn't have one fighting style—he creates one for each battle."
One of the other officers complained, "I don't like what it says about him."
"I do," Tern said quietly. "He'll survive."
---
Medical Bay – Brief Interlude
Kora sat on the edge of a recovery bed, getting stitched up.
Opposite her, Ox leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.
"You good?" he asked.
She nodded. "I should've gone for the kill sooner."
Ox smirked. "We all say that after we lose to him."
They shared a glance.
Not resentment.
Respect.
---
Waiting Room – Final Preparations
There were only two names left.
Cassian Dorne. Kale Drayen.
Kale stood quiet, helmet under one arm.
Cassian was leaning against the wall, studying his gloves like a lord who was bored at a party.
"You've had quite the run, slumdog."
Kale didn't bite.
Cassian smiled. "But you've never fought me under real rules. No limitations. No pretenses. Just blood and victory."
Kale looked up. "I'm ready."
Cassian's smile deepened. "No. You're not."
---
"Greatness isn't inherited. It's carved into history by those mad enough to defy it."
— General Argus Thaylen, Dynast Rebellion Memoirs
---
Unlike previous duels, the final match was not held in the usual simulation chambers. No prefab terrain. No tailored terrain advantage.
This was The Forge—a Martian rock amphitheater ringed by screaming engines, dust tempests, and molten fissures that throbbed beneath steel plates.
Where metal met will.
Banners streamed in artificial wind above them: Dynasts. Ironborn. Vanguards. Cipher. Command.
All watching.
All waiting.
Cassian stepped out first, followed by automated servitors bearing his house crest: a lion with a crown of solar flame.
He doffed his coat, tossing it to a retainer like a king divesting himself of coronation robes.
"After you," he said, turning to Kale as he entered the arena.
Kale's footsteps were heavier, more purposeful. No entourage. No fanfare.
Just purpose.
"Finalists," the AI voice boomed. "No-limits engagement. Non-lethal parameters only. All equipment permitted. Victory by incapacitation or surrender."
"Don't try to bore me, Drayen," Cassian drawled.
Kale's eyes didn't so much as twitch.
---
ROUND START
> 3…
2…
1…
DUEL COMMENCE.
---
Cassian struck first—fast, imperial, fluid. Solar capacitors blazed on his gauntlets. He unleashed a burst of micro-blasts, and Kale went into evasive action.
Kale weaved, rolled, returned fire with a scatterbolt that Cassian elegantly deflected with a kinetic shield.
The crowd murmured.
This wasn't brute force.
This was art.
---
.
Cassian continued to press, using high-ground maneuvers, jumping between elevated platforms like a theater duelist.
Kale remained on the ground—patient, waiting.
He threw an EMP charge. Cassian leapt to avoid it—
Too clean. Too predictable.
Kale expected the dodge.
He followed the EMP with a ricochet round, angling it off a molten vent.
Cassian blocked it—barely.
Then retaliated with a solar whip, lashing out in a burning arc that singed Kale's side.
Kale hissed, circling around a vent shaft. His HUD flashed warnings.
Cassian smirked. "You're bleeding already."
Kale didn't answer. He kicked a magnetic mine into a crevice, then sprinted left.
Cassian followed—
Click.
Mine detonated.
A kinetic wave blasted Cassian sideways, destroying his stride.
Kale was on him in a flash—fists punching, shoulder barging, feet driving into exposed joints.
Cassian grunted, spun, and counterpunched with a vicious hook to Kale's jaw.
Both stumbled back.
Both breathing hard.
---
COMMENTARY DECK
Vice Marshal Tern leaned forward. "He's getting Cassian to overcommit."
Solen nodded. "And Cassian is getting him to show his entire playbook."
"Which he's never done," Tern muttered. "Until now."
---
The molten core beneath them seethed hotter. Environmental systems ramped up temperature, humidity, and gravity. Simulated pressure to stress endurance.
Cassian stripped off his ruined gauntlet.
Unsheathed a pulse blade.
Kale readied his baton, flipping a switch to charge it fully.
The two met in a mid-arena collision that rang off the walls. Sparks showered. Heat shimmered.
Kale parried left, ducked low, tossed a punch to Cassian's ribs—but Cassian gritted through it and landed a headbutt that crushed Kale's visor.
Blood sprayed.
Kale snarled, restarted his visor with one hand and tossed a knee to Cassian's thigh.
Cassian stumbled—momentarily—but recovered, sending a solar blast back to Kale's shoulder.
They separated again.
Burning. Sweating. Panting like animals.
But standing.
---
---
Kale shifted his weight.
Cassian's eyes narrowed.
"What are you doing?" he asked, circling. "You always have a trick."
Kale didn't respond.
Instead, he moved in close—and threw his baton at Cassian's face.
Cassian blocked it—
And didn't notice the microcharge Kale had been hiding in his hand.
Kale jammed it into Cassian's chestplate.
BOOM.
Cassian was knocked back—slammed into the wall—and hung there, stunned, twitching, eyes wide.
The arena fell silent.
Kale was just standing there, breathing. Arm dripping with blood.
WINNER – KALE DRAYEN."
---
The banners waved.
Half the cadets shouted in shock. The other half in stunned silence.
Kora screamed in triumph. Ox pumped his fist. Even Cipher cadets stared slack-jawed.
The Dynasts were quiet as stone.
---
MEDICAL BAY – MOMENTS LATER
Cassian gazed blankly.
A doctor monitored his vitals, but he didn't speak.
Just watched Kale walk out of the room silently.
---
OBSERVATION DECK
Tern turned to Solen.
That cadet… just declared war on half the Dynast council."
Solen nodded. "And the other half just started watching.
.....