The crowd’s roar reverberated through the battleground like a tidal wave, crashing over Tempo as he faced the Executioner. The towering hybrid of flesh and machinery stood motionless for a heartbeat, its glowing red eyes locked onto its prey. Tempo’s mind raced, his body heavy with exhaustion, but he forced himself into a defensive stance.

Stay fast. Stay smart. Outlast it.

The Executioner raised its massive blade arm, the jagged edge catching the arena’s flickering lights. Tempo darted to the side as the weapon came crashing down, carving a fissure into the concrete floor. Shards of debris sprayed into the air, and Tempo narrowly avoided a chunk that whizzed past his ear.

The crowd erupted in cheers. To them, it was all a spectacle. To Tempo, it was a fight for survival.

The Executioner moved with an eerie, methodical precision, pivoting to face Tempo without missing a beat. “You’re fast,” it said in a guttural voice, each word grinding like gears. “But fragile.”

Tempo clenched his fists. “Fragile? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

He charged forward, weaving in a blur of motion. His second power activated, and the world slowed around him. Every step sent a jolt of energy through his veins, his body pushing beyond its limits. He feinted to the left, then darted right, aiming a sharp kick at the Executioner’s side.

His boot connected with a metallic clang, but the towering figure barely staggered. Tempo’s enhanced perception caught a subtle change—the conduits beneath the floor pulsed brighter, their hum rising like an ominous chant.

It’s reacting to me. Why?

The Executioner paused for a split second, its glowing eyes narrowing as if processing Tempo’s movement. Then, with startling speed, it raised its blade arm again, this time swinging horizontally to cut off Tempo’s escape route.

Tempo dropped into a slide, barely dodging the attack. He skidded across the floor, scrambling to his feet as the Executioner adjusted its stance. A low mechanical rumble emanated from its chest, and Tempo’s stomach sank as he realized it was learning.

Above, the shadowy figure leaned against the railing, their voice crackling through the intercom. “Good. Push it harder. Let us see what you’re truly capable of.”

Tempo’s eyes darted to the conduits. The glowing lines stretched across the arena like veins, pulsing brighter with every movement. A sickening realization struck him: the conduits were feeding off the energy of the fight.

“Is this what you wanted?” Tempo yelled, his voice echoing through the arena. “To turn us into your batteries?”

The shadowy figure laughed, the sound distorted and cold. “Batteries? No, no. You’re sparks, little one. Sparks that ignite flames. Soon, this energy will fuel creations far beyond your imagination.”

Tempo’s heart sank. He glanced again at the conduits, noticing the faint vibrations running through them. Whatever the Syndicate was powering, it wasn’t just this arena—it was something bigger, something far more dangerous.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The Executioner’s metallic fist slammed into the ground, shattering a nearby support pillar and sending tremors through the arena. Tempo leapt back, his vision blurring as the strain of his second power began to take its toll.

The conduits flared brighter as the Executioner straightened. Its blade arm crackled with a surge of red energy, drawn directly from the glowing lines below. Tempo’s breath hitched as the weapon pulsed, the air around it warping with heat.

It’s using the conduits to power itself!

The Executioner lunged forward, faster and more precise than before. Tempo barely managed to dodge as the blade sliced through the air, leaving a trail of scorched light in its wake.

I can’t keep this up much longer...

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Meanwhile, Outside the Arena...

Greg and Cora crouched behind a stack of discarded crates in a dimly lit alley. The muffled roar of the crowd vibrated through the walls, accompanied by the hum of machinery deep within the facility.

Cora tapped her tablet, the screen glowing faintly. “The energy levels are spiking again. The conduits are pulling more power than they were ten minutes ago.”

Greg rubbed his eyes, his exhaustion evident despite his usual carefree expression. “You think they’re charging something?”

“Maybe,” Cora muttered, scanning the data. “Or storing it. Either way, we need to get in there before it’s too late.”

Greg straightened, stretching lazily as if preparing for a nap. “Stealth mission, huh? Guess I better wake up for this one.”

Cora shot him a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. “This isn’t like the factory, Greg. If we’re caught, there’s no quick escape. And Tempo’s already in over his head.”

Greg nodded, his smirk fading. “Let’s go save the kid before he does something stupid.”

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Back in the Arena...

Tempo darted around the Executioner, each movement growing slower as fatigue gnawed at his limbs. He could feel his second power slipping, the rush of energy giving way to a crushing heaviness.

The Executioner raised its blade arm, pausing briefly before driving it downward with brutal force. The attack was deliberate, aimed not just at Tempo but at driving him toward the conduits’ brightest section.

Tempo stumbled, his breathing ragged as his vision swam. The conduits beneath the floor flared, their light spilling across the arena like lightning.

“Faster,” the shadowy voice taunted. “Struggle harder. The more you fight, the more we gain.”

Tempo’s vision blurred, his knees threatening to buckle. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright. “I’m not... your pawn,” he spat, his voice trembling but defiant.

The Executioner tilted its head, a low mechanical rumble emanating from its chest. “You will break,” it said, raising its blade arm for a final blow.

Tempo closed his eyes, steeling himself. If this is it... at least I didn’t give up.

The blow never came.

A blur of movement shot past Tempo, colliding with the Executioner in a deafening crash. Tempo blinked, his vision clearing just enough to see a figure standing between him and the towering hybrid.

“Miss me, kid?” Greg drawled, his lazy smirk hiding the tension in his eyes.

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Above the Arena...

The shadowy figure straightened, their amusement replaced by curiosity. “Well, well. The Sleeper joins the game. Let’s see how this changes things.”

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To Be Continued

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