They rushed Torsten back to Brown's private clinic, a place far more equipped and discreet than the arena's medbay.
Doc Brown worked swiftly, hooking Torsten up to advanced life support. "His system is rejecting the stabilization. There's only one thing left to try with what we have on hand." He administered a transfusion of VEYRA's blood, the closest genetic match.
It calmed the violent rejection, but Torsten remained out cold on the bed, his breathing shallow.
BROWN: "So... he's stable. But that bought us a day, at best. His heart is too damaged. The muscle is necrotizing. He needs a new one, and that's not something we can get here." He wiped his brow, his expression grim. "I'm thinking it's the White V5. A final, cumulative toxicity attacking his strongest organ."
KIRO: Stepping forward, his voice firm. "What about my blood?"
VEYRA: "That won't work. You have to be a match, and"
DOC BROWN: Cut her off, a spark of frantic, scientific curiosity in his eyes. "Wait. Thinking. That... might work. It might not be about blood type. Your Cube... Cubes don't change your genetic base code, but your blood... it carries the Cube's energy signature. It's a catalyst. And your Cube is... strange. Unstable. Adaptive." He looked from Kiro to Torsten, making a terrifying calculation. "It's the biggest unanswered question in metabiology. Let's try it. It's the only shot we have."
VEYRA: "Okay... okay." Her voice was a tightwire of stress, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the med-bed. "I trust you, Brown. I just... I don't trust the unknown."
Kiro placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "It's not just the Cube," he said, his voice low but firm. "I've been keeping notes. Every time I use it... it's not just the power that changes. I change. It's improving me. My reflexes, my healing... it's subtle, but it's there. My blood might be more than just a catalyst."
Doc Brown's eyes lit up with a frantic, brilliant light. "A symbiotic evolution? The host adapts alongside the artifact! That's it! That's the missing variable!" He was already scrambling for the transfusion kit. "Let's get the blood. Now."
The sterile silence of the clinic was broken only by the soft whir of machinery and the thick, tense breathing of its occupants. Then, as Kiro's dark, Cube-tainted blood flowed down the tube and into Torsten's vein, the heart monitor screamed.
A violent, jagged line. Torsten's back arched off the bed, his body seizing as vital signs spiked into the red.
"NO!" Veyra lunged forward, but Raiji was a wall of solid muscle. His arm shot out, holding her back effortlessly, his own gaze locked on the convulsing form of his comrade. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.
"Wait," Raiji grunted, his voice a low rumble of forced calm.
And then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
Torsten's body slumped back onto the bed, his breathing evening out from a ragged gasp into a deep, steady rhythm. The frantic beeping of the monitors softened into a strong, regular pulse.
Doc Brown, his hands trembling slightly, ran a scanner over Torsten's chest. His eyes widened in pure, unadulterated shock. He looked from the readout to Kiro, then back again.
"He's... stable," Brown whispered. "The necrotized tissue... it's gone. His heart... it's not just repaired. It's perfect."
DOC BROWN: "Now, just wait. It might take a day for him to wake up. The healing was... violently fast. That seizure could have been his body shaking off the necrosis, or a rejection of the catalytic blood. I just don't know."
As if on cue, Torsten's eyelids fluttered, then opened. He blinked, disoriented. "...What happened?"
Veyra was at his side in an instant, her hands clutching his, tears she'd been holding back finally welling in her eyes. "Your heart... it stopped."
Torsten slowly sat up, a look of profound confusion on his face. He placed a hand on his own chest. "I feel... okay. More than okay. I haven't felt this strong in years." A dark realization dawned in his eyes. "The V5... I've had problems for months. It's not a finished product. The clans never said it could do this." He looked from his sister's tear-streaked face to Doc Brown. "So, how am I alive? How did my heart heal?"
A heavy, knowing silence filled the room. Everyone's gaze Veyra's brimming with emotion, Raiji's with quiet respect drifted to Kiro, who stood by the wall trying to look unaffected.
Veyra's voice was soft, filled with a awe that was meant for him alone. "It was Kiro. His blood... it healed you."
Torsten looked at Kiro, the weight of the miracle and the unpayable debt to his little sister's best friend settling on him. The usual gruffness in his voice was gone, replaced by a raw, brotherly gratitude. "Kiro... I... I don't know what to say."
Kiro just gave a single, sharp nod, the tension in his own shoulders finally easing. "Don't mention it. Seriously."
Before the moment could get too heavy, Raiji let out a loud, deliberate fake cough, a genuine grin spreading across his face.
RAIJI: "Good. You're not dead." He clapped a hand on Kiro's shoulder, squeezing tight a brother's silent praise. "Now, you heal up. We party. Tomorrow. kiro treat."
KIRO: "What? Why me?!"
The sun had dipped below the jagged skyline, the relentless rain finally easing into a damp, neon-drenched mist.
Elsewhere, in his opulent office atop the arena, Midas was on a secure call. The holographic screen displayed the grim face of VICE ADMIRAL GRUNT.
MIDAS: "I trust you had a safe travel. I'd like to pull in a favor. And this might not even be a favor... more of a mutual opportunity." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "I think I've found that Cube that was stolen from your convoy. It must be Kiro, the new champ. He manifested a strange, adaptive power right around the time the slums got shut down. The timing is... impeccable."
On the screen, VICE ADMIRAL GRUNT took a long, slow sip of his soda. The silence stretched, far more threatening than any outburst.
VICE ADMIRAL GRUNT: "Nice work." His voice was a low, gravelly rumble. "I'll assemble a team. And a specialist bounty hunter. Send me his picture. I'll be prepped. Very soon." The call cut out, leaving Midas alone in the dark of his office.
The neon signs of the city flickered off as a true, starry night took hold a rare, clear evening. By the time Kiro exited his apartment the next morning, the sun was glinting off the chrome and polluted puddles of the streets.
Raiji was already leaning against a wall outside, finishing up a massive synthi-burger.
RAIJI: (Mouth still half-full) "You ready? My stomach's declaring war on my wallet."
KIRO: "Sure, let's go bankrupt on snacks."
They hit the markets, moving from stall to stall. Their arms were soon laden with boxes of grease-spotted pizza, bags of artificially-flavored chips, and several six-packs of violently neon-colored soda.
KIRO: (Shifting the heavy bags) "Where to next, oh great spender of my money?"
RAIJI: "Okay, let me think... Veyra's got the place for the party, so we're good there." He snapped his fingers. "Right! A huge cloud-TV. The kind you can sync to your cortex for full immersion. And speakers. We need speakers that'll make the neighbors file a noise complaint from three blocks over."
KIRO: (Wincing as he looked at his cred-stick balance) "This is hurting my wallet. You're evil."
RAIJI: "It's for the crew. It's a noble cause."
Meanwhile, in a sleek high-rise apartment, Veyra put the finishing touches on the living space, cleaning away tech manuals and wiping down surfaces.
VEYRA: (To herself) "Okay, all done. Invites are sent. Late notices, but they'll come." She scanned the room. "What else...?"
A knock came at the door.
Veyra opened the door. "Hello?"
The young woman on the doorstep offered a cool, appraising smile. "You must be Veyra. Your brother talks about you a lot." She stood with an unnerving stillness. "I am The Glyph."
Veyra looked her up and down, a curious, slightly protective glint in her eye. "The Glyph? So... are you and my brother dating? You seem a bit young. Like, my age."
The Glyph's face twisted into a look of pure, unadulterated disgust. "Ewww. No. Never. Have you even seen what he eats? The man once ate a tuna pizza with a side of pure peanut butter. From the jar. With the same pizza."
Veyra shuddered in solidarity. "Yep. Totally valid. He's a culinary menace. Disgusting and disrespectful to pizza everywhere."
TORSTEN: (From inside) "Who is it, Vey?" He walked up behind her.
VEYRA: "It's for you. So, explain. She calls herself 'The Glyph'."
Torsten's eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Oh. It's Nova." He then added, almost as an afterthought, but knowing the weight it carried: "She's Atlas's daughter."
Veyra's jaw went slack. Her head swiveled back to the young woman, her surprise total. "She is who's daughter?!"
The two young women, now bound by a shared moment of mocking Torsten and the shock of the revelation, shook hands a gesture of newfound, mutual understanding.
hour of chatting
Nova - ok real reason i came i think its time it says when Torsten see reason or lose his champion titel
then go to VEYRA she knows the password just remind her
its from my father atlas his final gift.
shows cube looks shiny blue and looks like a chest with screen as lock set to destoy if force open.
VEYRA: "I don't know the password. Try your name. Or Torsten."
NOVA: "No, I already tried everything obvious."
TORSTEN: (Eyes lighting up) "Let me think... 'Mech-Robot'? It was his favorite anime."
Nova typed it in. "Still no. It must be something Veyra-related. Anything he said that was strange today?"
VEYRA: (Closes her eyes, thinking) "Let me think..." A flashback hits her: Atlas, with a kind, knowing look, saying, "Remember your favorite ice-cream flavour." Her eyes snap open. "Yes, that was strange. Strawberry. Try that."
NOVA: "Maybe that's it... Even Atlas couldn't get through a double password. One is my fingerprint to get this cyber-box..." She presses her thumb to the scanner, then types in the word. "Strawberry."
The box hums to life, emitting a brilliant blue and green light. A hologram of ATLAS flickers to life in the center of the room.
ATLAS: (Smiling warmly) "Hello, Nova, my child. And Torsten, my student." His holographic gaze shifts. "Then Veyra... my favourite of you two." He winks. "Just because you're smart. Your brother is pretty dumb."
The playful jab hits its mark, but the mood shifts as his expression softens.
ATLAS: "If you're seeing this... I am no longer with you." He lets the words hang in the air. "I love you three."
Tears immediately stream down both girls' faces. Torsten turns away, his broad shoulders tense as he fights back his own emotions.
ATLAS: "Now, for your futures. Veyra, go out and explore. You want this. So, do it. Torsten, be your own man. Live your life. Nova... stop over-thinking."
He takes a breath. "So, now... what I leave to you."
ATLAS: "Nova, you get my arena. It's yours. Please look after it." A set of schematics materializes beside him. "You also get the Suit Mark 2. You can finish the touches. You're the only one smart enough to complete my work. A power mecha, just for you."
ATLAS: "Torsten, you're the hardest. What do you give a man who needs nothing? So, I give you something better than any object." A data-chip icon appears. "My training videos. All of them. The real ones, not the ones I showed the other students. Train, son. Become a legend in your own right."
ATLAS: "And Veyra... now you." He pauses dramatically. "You get nothing."
Veyra's face falls, a flash of shock and anger replacing her grief. "What?!"
ATLAS: (Chuckling) "Okay, joking!" His expression becomes proud and serious. "You also get a suit. The Mark 3. It's just a prototype. The reason I give this to you is because I expect the biggest things from you. You will explore, and you will find someone to upgrade it. That's your journey. Nova gets the Mark 2 because she's smart enough to make her own. You... you are wise enough to find the right people."
ATLAS: "Enjoy your lives, children."
The message ends, the hologram dissolving into motes of light, leaving the three of them in a silence filled with grief, love, and the weight of the future now resting on their shoulders.