The plan to win the tournament died the moment Rix scrambled back through the ventilation grate, shivering and smelling of ozone.
"They eat us," Rix chattered, his blue-ringed eyes wide with terror. "Winner is not champion. Winner is lunch."
Varian sat on the rusty bench of their holding cell, listening to the Rat-Boy's report. The crowd outside was roaring for the next match, oblivious to the slaughterhouse machinery grinding beneath their feet.
"So," Varian said, his voice deadly calm. "Valerius wants to feed the champions to this... Abyssal Knight."
"Emperor Rank," Rix emphasized. "Sleepy now. Wakes up in three days. Hungry."
Varian looked at Gorgon and Lady Venom.
"We can't fight an Emperor Rank beast," Gorgon rumbled, looking at his stone hands. "Not yet. That's a city-killer. If it wakes up, this whole Coliseum becomes a crater."
"Then we don't let it wake up here," Varian stood up. He walked to the locker where he had stashed his gear. "We change the game. We aren't gladiators anymore. We're thieves."
"Thieves?" Venom raised an eyebrow.
"Rix said there's a private viewing tonight. An auction for the Cog-Lords to bid on the 'rights' to the beast before it awakens. We're going to crash it."
"And how do we get in?" Venom asked. "The auction is strictly VIP. You need an invitation, a pedigree, and a net worth of ten million credits."
Varian tossed a heavy bag of coins onto the bench—their winnings from the first match.
"We have 5,000 credits," Varian said. "That's not enough to buy the beast. But it's enough to buy a suit."
He looked at Lady Venom.
"You were Elara Vane, weren't you? High Society. Do you remember how to play the part?"
Venom's eyes flashed. She touched the veil covering her face. For a moment, the sewer-witch vanished, replaced by something colder and sharper.
"I remember," she purred. "I remember how they talk. How they smell. And exactly how to lie to them."
"Good," Varian said. "Because tonight, you are the Baroness of the Blackwater. And I am your bodyguard."
The Gilded Gear Casino
The Auction House wasn't in the slums. It was located in the penthouse of the Gilded Gear, a skyscraper that rose out of the Rust-Jungle like a chrome needle.
The elevator ride up was smooth, silent, and smelled of lavender—a stark contrast to the rot below.
Lady Venom stood in the center of the car. She had spent the last of their credits on a gown of midnight-blue silk, bought from a black-market tailor. It was cut to hide her serpentine tail, the fabric flowing around her like a pool of ink. She wore gloves to hide her claws and a porcelain mask that covered the upper half of her face.
Varian stood behind her. He wore a stiff, charcoal-gray suit. It was tight across the shoulders, restricting his movement, but he looked the part of hired muscle.
In his hand, he carried a long, velvet-wrapped object. It looked like a ceremonial staff. Inside, it was the Sun-Piercer.
"Shoulders back, Ash," Venom corrected him, using his alias. "You look like a brawler waiting for a punch. A true bodyguard is furniture. You exist only when I say you do."
Varian straightened his spine. "Yes, Mistress."
"Better. And remember: do not speak unless spoken to. These people smell poverty."
Ding.
The doors opened.
The penthouse was opulent. The floor was made of clear glass, looking down three hundred meters into the neon-lit city below. Chandeliers made of fiber-optic cables cast a soft, golden glow over the room.
Dozens of guests mingled. There were Cog-Lords with gold-plated cybernetics, Union officers in dress uniforms, and wealthy merchants from the Upper Shells wearing breathing masks filigreed with silver.
"Invitation?" A security droid blocked their path.
Venom didn't flinch. She produced a data-chip Rix had forged using the stolen codes.
"Baroness Vane," Venom said, her voice dripping with bored arrogance. "I represent the Deep-Core Mining Consortium."
The droid scanned the chip. It was fake, but Rix's code was perfect.
"Welcome, Baroness. Please enjoy the champagne."
They stepped inside.
Varian scanned the room. His Genetic Archivist sight was active, analyzing threats.
[Target: Union Captain.][Threat: High (Concealed Plasma Pistol).]
[Target: Cog-Lord.][Threat: Medium (Bodyguards x2).]
And there, in the center of the room, stood Dr. Valerius.
He was holding court near the buffet table, looking relaxed. He wasn't wearing a mask. He didn't need to. In this world, the scientists were the kings.
Varian's grip on the velvet-wrapped spear tightened. One thrust, he thought. I could end him right now.
"Focus," Venom whispered, sensing his tension. "The target is the Beast."
They moved through the crowd. Venom played her part perfectly. She laughed at the right jokes, sneered at the right rumors, and deflected questions about her "Consortium" with vague, haughty answers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," a voice boomed.
The lights dimmed. A spotlight hit a raised stage at the far end of the room.
Dr. Valerius walked onto the stage.
"Thank you all for coming," Valerius smiled. "Tonight, the Bio-Alchemy Union is proud to offer a unique opportunity. We have captured specimens from all over the world, but tonight... tonight we offer a legend."
He gestured to a massive curtain behind him.
"Found in a sealed tomb near the Core, dating back to the Rejection War. A creature of pure darkness, bound in iron."
The curtain rose.
Varian stopped breathing.
It wasn't a cage.
Standing on a reinforced plinth was a suit of armor.
It was seven feet tall, made of a black metal that seemed to suck the light out of the room. It was jagged, archaic, and terrifying. A tattered cape made of shadow-stuff drifted around it, even though there was no wind.
There was no body inside. The helmet's visor was dark.
[Genetic Archivist Alert!][Subject: The Abyssal Knight.][Type: Parasitic Armor (Symbiote Class).][Status: Dormant.]
"It's not a beast inside armor," Varian whispered to himself. "The armor is the beast."
"The Abyssal Knight," Valerius announced. "An Emperor-Rank Symbiote. It feeds on the soul of its host, granting them immense power until there is nothing left but a husk. We are selling the bonding rights. Who among you has a champion strong enough to wear the nightmare?"
A murmur of excitement went through the crowd. They didn't see a curse. They saw a weapon.
"Bidding starts at five million credits," the auctioneer announced.
"Six million!" A Cog-Lord shouted immediately.
"Seven!" A Union General countered.
Varian nudged Venom. "Get me closer. I need to check the resonance."
Venom nodded. She glided toward the stage, pushing past a waiter.
"Ten million," Venom said casually, raising her gloved hand.
The room went silent. Valerius looked at her, intrigued.
"The Baroness bids ten," the auctioneer stuttered. "Do I hear twelve?"
While the eyes were on Venom, Varian stepped up to the edge of the velvet rope separating the crowd from the stage. He was only five meters away from the armor now.
He felt it.
A cold, weeping sensation in his chest. It was the polar opposite of the Solar Core. It felt like grief. Deep, ancient grief.
The velvet-wrapped Sun-Piercer in his hand began to vibrate.
Hummmmm.
It wasn't just shaking. It was singing.
On the stage, the Abyssal Knight... moved.
It wasn't supposed to move. It was dormant.
The helmet turned. The empty black visor looked directly at Varian.
Valerius noticed. He stopped smiling. He looked at the armor, then at the "Bodyguard" standing near the stage.
"Wait," Valerius whispered. "That vibration..."
Varian felt the Symbiote on his arm tighten. The Solar Sovereign's weapon and the Abyssal Knight were connected. Like old friends. Or old enemies.
[Resonance Detected.][Signature: The Eclipse Protocol.][The Knight recognizes the Spear.]
"Ash," Venom whispered urgently. "It's waking up."
Varian couldn't stop it. The Sun-Piercer was pulling him toward the stage like a magnet. The wrapping on the spear began to smoke as the golden blade heated up beneath the cloth.
"Security!" Valerius shouted, pointing at Varian. "Seize that man! He has an artifact!"
The security droids turned, weapons raising.
Varian looked at Venom. The heist was blown.
"Plan B?" Venom asked, reaching for a vial of poison in her garter.
"Plan B," Varian agreed.
He ripped the velvet cover off the Sun-Piercer.
The golden blade flashed, blindingly bright in the dim room. The guests screamed.
"It's the Sun-Piercer!" A Union officer yelled, recognizing the legendary weapon. "That's the Sovereign's Spear!"
Varian didn't attack the guards. He leaped onto the stage.
He landed in front of the Abyssal Knight.
"Wake up," Varian commanded, slamming the butt of the spear onto the plinth.
A pulse of golden light exploded outward.
The Abyssal Knight didn't attack Varian.
It fell to one knee.
The massive, terrifying suit of armor bowed its head, the tattered shadow-cape settling around it like wings.
[Recognition Confirmed.][The Knight awaits orders, Sovereign.]
The room went dead silent. Valerius stared, his face draining of color.
"Impossible," Valerius breathed. "It... it knelt."
Varian looked at the kneeling monster. Then he looked at Valerius.
"You wanted to sell a legend?" Varian's voice, amplified by his mask, rang out. "You forgot one thing, Doctor."
Varian pointed the spear at Valerius.
"Legends bite back."
CRASH.
The skylight above shattered.
Gorgon dropped from the ceiling, roaring, attached to a cable Rix had lowered from the roof. He landed on the auctioneer's podium, smashing it to splinters.
"Did someone order a rock slide?" Gorgon laughed.
Varian grinned behind his mask.
"Iron Legion," Varian ordered. "Secure the asset."