The safe house was alive with tension the group from Prescott watched as one of theirs adjusted the neural interface inside the simulator pod. The triD showing her in real time. The virtual arena contest had come down to the final 60 contestants, each one a seasoned designer or pilot. Jackie wasn’t here as a competitor; she was here to pilot Kovacs’ Wyvern, a sleek and deadly heavy assault mech that stood as his crowning achievement.
“You ready for this?” Kovacs asked, standing by the pod, his tone half concern, half encouragement.
Jackie smirked, slipping on the neural uplink. “Always. You just make sure your design doesn’t let me down.”
He snorted. “The Wyvern’s ready. Question is, can you keep up with it?”
The pod sealed, immersing Jackie in the virtual cockpit. In an instant, the world transformed around her. The Wyvern towered in the middle of a simulated industrial wasteland—a battlefield of crumbling factories, fuel depots, and jagged ruins under a sickly orange sky. The mech’s systems blinked to life, the interface responding seamlessly to her commands.
Across the field, her opponent loaded into the simulation. The announcer’s booming voice echoed over the arena.
“Bracket 7: Jackie Stewart piloting Kovacs’ Wyvern versus Adalon’s Iron Reaver. Contestants, prepare for combat!”
The Iron Reaver materialized—a hulking brute of a mech with thick armor, heavy autocannons, and rotary missile racks that bristled with firepower.
Jackie tightened her grip on the controls, her body thrumming with anticipation. “Let’s dance.”
“Three… two… one… Begin!”
The Iron Reaver launched forward with surprising speed, firing a salvo of missiles that streaked across the battlefield like comets. Jackie’s instincts kicked in as she pushed the Wyvern’s jump jets to full thrust. The mech soared into the air, the missiles slamming into the ground below in a fiery explosion that shook the arena.
“Good call,” Kovacs’ voice crackled through the comms, watching from the observation deck. “Keep moving. Don’t let him pin you down.”
Jackie twisted mid-air, targeting the Iron Reaver with the Wyvern’s Clan Gauss Rifle. The weapon discharged with a deafening crack, the slug punching through the Reaver’s left shoulder armor and exposing the servos beneath.
Adalon countered immediately, his autocannons roaring to life. The Wyvern’s sensors screamed warnings as streams of explosive shells chased it, but Jackie ducked behind a ruined building, the rounds chewing through concrete and steel instead of her armor.
“That thing’s got more firepower than a small fleet,” she muttered.
“Use its weight against it,” Kovacs replied. “It’s slow. You’re not.”
Jackie guided the Wyvern through the ruins, using the terrain to her advantage. The Reaver thundered after her, its heavy footsteps sending up plumes of dust. Each time Adalon fired, Jackie was already moving, the jump jets propelling the Wyvern out of harm’s way.
“Think you can run forever?” Adalon’s voice taunted over the comms.
Jackie smirked. “Not running. Just lining up my shot.”
She swung the Wyvern around, firing both ER Large Lasers in a blinding flash of blue light. The beams scorched deep gashes into the Reaver’s torso, causing armor plating to peel away. Adalon growled in frustration, his mech stumbling as it absorbed the damage.
The Reaver retaliated with its missile racks, flooding the air with a swarm of rockets. Jackie deployed countermeasures, flares and chaff bursting around her to confuse the missiles. Most detonated harmlessly, but a few found their mark, rocking the Wyvern and sending warning lights flashing across her HUD.
“This isn’t working,” Jackie said through gritted teeth, dodging another barrage. “He’s too well-armored. I need to finish this fast.”
“Take him to the depot,” Kovacs suggested. “Use the environment.”
Spotting a cluster of fuel tanks in the distance, Jackie grinned. “Got it.”
She led the Iron Reaver on a chase through the ruins, deliberately slowing to keep Adalon close. The Reaver’s autocannons hammered the ground around her, chunks of debris flying in all directions. Jackie ignored the chaos, her focus razor-sharp as she reached the depot.
Adalon took the bait, charging into the open area. Jackie spun the Wyvern around, locking onto the fuel tanks with her missile pods.
“Say goodnight.”
The Wyvern fired a full salvo, the missiles slamming into the tanks and triggering a chain reaction. The resulting explosion was deafening, a fireball consuming the Reaver and sending shockwaves across the battlefield.
Smoke billowed as the Reaver staggered out of the inferno, its armor charred and cracked. Jackie didn’t hesitate. She aimed the Gauss Rifle and fired. The slug punched through the Reaver’s cockpit, and the mech collapsed in a heap of sparking metal.
“Winner: Jackie Stewart piloting the Wyvern!” the announcer declared as the battlefield dissolved into static.
Jackie removed the neural interface, blinking against the bright lights of the arena. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but she barely heard it, her adrenaline still pumping.
Kovacs met her as she exited the pod, his expression a mix of pride and relief. “Told you the Wyvern wouldn’t let you down.”
Jackie smirked. “You did your part. I did mine.”
Adalon approached, offering a grudging nod of respect. “Hell of a mech. And a hell of a pilot.”
“Thanks,” Jackie replied, watching him retreat. She turned to Kovacs. “One down. What’s next?”
Kovacs hesitated, his thoughts lingering on the choices looming ahead—Irvena, Prescott, the competition, and the shadowy conspiracy. For now, though, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the victory.
“Next?” he said with a faint smile. “We win.”
***
The virtual battlefield shimmered into focus, and Jackie Stewart found herself in the cockpit of the Wyvern, staring out at an endless expanse of snow and ice. Gale-force winds whipped across the frozen plains, turning the air into a haze of frost. Jagged cliffs loomed in the distance, their icy surfaces glistening under a pale, unforgiving sun. This was the third round, and the stakes were higher than ever.
Her opponent’s mech materialized across the battlefield—a sleek, humanoid machine bristling with cutting-edge technology. Painted in gleaming white with streaks of gold, it moved with an unsettling grace, a deadly combination of speed and precision. Its loadout was unlike anything she’d faced before: a massive physical blade mounted on its back, dual plasma sabers glowing at its hips, and a high-caliber railgun slung under its left arm.
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The announcer’s voice boomed across the virtual arena. “Round three: Jackie Stewart piloting the Wyvern versus Captain Orin’s Archangel. Contestants, prepare for combat!”
“Archangel, huh?” Jackie muttered, flexing her grip on the controls. “Let’s see if angels bleed.”
Kovacs’ voice crackled through her comm. “This guy’s a wildcard. His mech is optimized for melee. Keep your distance and wear him down.”
“Easier said than done,” Jackie replied, her heart pounding.
The countdown began.
“Three… two… one… Begin!”
The Archangel wasted no time, closing the distance with astonishing speed. Jackie barely had time to react as the railgun fired, the slug ripping through the air with a sonic boom. The Wyvern’s jump jets flared to life, propelling her to the side as the projectile exploded into the ice where she’d just been standing, sending shards flying in all directions.
“Fast,” she muttered, bringing the Wyvern’s Gauss Rifle to bear. The weapon discharged with a thunderous crack, the slug streaking across the battlefield. But the Archangel twisted mid-run, the shot grazing its shoulder and leaving only a shallow dent in its armor.
Before she could line up another shot, the Archangel was on her. Its plasma sabers ignited, twin blades of searing light slashing through the air. Jackie fired the Wyvern’s ER Large Lasers in a desperate counterattack, the beams carving molten lines into the Archangel’s chest, but it didn’t slow.
The sabers came down in a cross-slash, and Jackie barely managed to fire the jump jets again, launching the Wyvern backward. The sabers missed by inches, their heat melting the ice beneath them.
Jackie used the Wyvern’s superior agility to keep her distance, peppering the Archangel with missiles and laser fire. The frozen battlefield became a warzone of craters and shattered ice, explosions throwing up plumes of snow that obscured vision and distorted targeting systems.
But Captain Orin wasn’t just fast—he was relentless. The Archangel wove through the chaos, dodging most of Jackie’s attacks with precision. He closed the gap again, this time unsheathing the massive blade from its back. The weapon gleamed with an otherworldly energy, its edge sparking as it sliced through the air.
Jackie blocked instinctively, firing a missile salvo at point-blank range. The explosions rocked both mechs, throwing them apart and leaving scorch marks on the pristine ice.
“You can’t run forever,” Orin taunted over the comms, his voice calm and confident.
“Who’s running?” Jackie shot back, charging the Gauss Rifle again.
The battle reached a stalemate as both mechs circled each other, their movements creating a tension-filled silence broken only by the howling wind. Jackie’s sensors screamed a warning as Orin made his move, feinting left before launching into the air with thrusters.
The Archangel came down hard, its blade carving through the Wyvern’s left missile pod. Alarms blared in Jackie’s cockpit as she swung the Wyvern’s right arm, slamming the Gauss Rifle into the Archangel’s side like a club.
“Direct physical attack with a Gauss Rifle?” Kovacs yelled over the comms. “That’s not what it’s for!”
“Worked, didn’t it?” Jackie grunted, firing the Wyvern’s jump jets to gain distance.
The Archangel staggered but recovered quickly, its blade glowing with renewed energy. Jackie’s hands flew over the controls as she re-evaluated her strategy. The Archangel was too fast to hit consistently, and its melee capabilities far outclassed hers.
Then she spotted it—a chasm in the ice, its jagged edges barely visible through the snow.
“Let’s see how you handle this,” she muttered.
Jackie guided the Wyvern toward the chasm, deliberately slowing to bait Orin into following. He took the bait, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
The Archangel lunged, plasma sabers swinging in a deadly arc. Jackie fired the jump jets at the last second, launching the Wyvern over the chasm. Orin’s momentum carried the Archangel to the edge, but he activated his own thrusters, halting just before falling in.
“Nice try,” he said.
But Jackie was already moving. The Wyvern’s Gauss Rifle fired, the slug slamming into the ice beneath the Archangel’s feet. The ground cracked and gave way, sending Orin’s mech plummeting into the chasm.
The Archangel didn’t go quietly. Orin fired the thrusters again, catching onto the edge with one hand while the other swung the massive blade. The Wyvern’s cockpit shook as the blade struck, carving deep into the torso armor.
Jackie gritted her teeth, ignoring the alarms blaring in her ears. She fired the Wyvern’s ER Large Lasers point-blank, the beams slicing through the Archangel’s hand and severing its grip.
The Archangel tumbled into the abyss, disappearing into the darkness below.
“Winner: Jackie Stewart piloting the Wyvern!”
The virtual battlefield dissolved as Jackie ripped off the neural uplink, her chest heaving. The crowd’s roar was deafening, but she barely noticed. Her hands trembled as she exited the simulator pod, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
Kovacs was there to meet her, his expression a mix of pride and concern. “That was… intense.”
Jackie smirked, though her legs felt like jelly. “Told you I could handle it.”
He laughed. “Remind me never to bet against you.”
As they left the arena, Jackie couldn’t shake the image of the Archangel’s deadly precision. The competition was only getting tougher, and the decisions ahead loomed larger than ever.
***
The arena descended into a hushed anticipation as the icy battlefield disappeared into the ether, replaced by a holographic highlight reel of explosions, daring feats, and mechanical brilliance. The unmistakable voice of Howard Cosell broke through the din, his cadence deliberate, his words a tapestry of drama and gravitas.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Howard Costello and this is my partner Jim Nance what a competition we have witnessed! Sixty hopefuls this grand stage, each one carrying the hopes, dreams, and ambitions of their craft. And now—now—we stand on the brink of destiny. I, Howard Cosell, am here to narrate the unfolding drama alongside my astute partner, Jim Nance. Jim, it has been a journey of brilliance and brawn.”
“Thank you, Howard. It’s been nothing short of extraordinary, and now the final four contestants are poised to define this competition. Howard, shall we introduce them?”
“Indeed, Jim, and what a quartet of talent we have! First, we turn our gaze to Kovacs and the Wyvern. A 60-ton behemoth of modular design, the Wyvern is not merely a machine—it is an extension of innovation itself. Powered by a Prescott-enhanced reactor, it moves with a grace that belies its bulk, wielding devastating firepower and the versatility to adapt to any scenario. And the pilot—Jackie Stewart! A name that resonates with boldness and precision, she has taken Kovacs’ masterpiece and turned it into an unstoppable force on the battlefield.”
“No doubt about it, Howard. The Wyvern has been a standout. Next, we have Dr. Hallex and the Goliath.”
“Ah, yes, Jim, the Goliath! A Seventy- five ton colossus, the Goliath is a tank in every sense of the word. Heavy armor, long-range artillery—it is a juggernaut that stands as a monument to endurance. Dr. Hallex has made one thing abundantly clear: sometimes, raw power and unyielding defense can outlast any opponent. A fascinating contrast to the Wyvern’s elegance.”
“Well said, Howard. Then there’s Ryn Verrick and the Specter.”
“Indeed, Jim. The Specter! Sleek, agile, a 50-ton marvel designed for precision strikes. The Specter is no blunt instrument; it is a scalpel. With its dual beam lances and scatter-shot plasma cannons, Ryn Verrick has built a machine that emphasizes cunning over brute force. A tactician’s dream, the Specter has proven itself as a masterclass in battlefield control.”
“And finally, Talia Vren and the Mirage.”
“Ah, the Mirage! A machine of mystery and misdirection. At 40 tons, it is the lightest of our finalists, but make no mistake—this is no ordinary mech. Cloaking technology, jamming systems, and the ability to strike without warning. Talia Vren’s Mirage is as much a psychological weapon as it is a physical one. She has danced through this competition, dismantling opponents with precision and guile. A truly unique contender.”
“And now, Jim, we must discuss what lies ahead. With four contestants remaining, the tournament narrows to its climactic moments. Only two matches stand between these competitors and eternal glory.”
“That’s right, Howard. One of these four will advance directly to the finals with a bye, determined by their performance throughout the competition.”
“Precisely, Jim. The remaining two competitors will face off in a battle of grit and strategy. The victor of that bout will earn the right to fight the second seed in the ultimate championship match. And let me tell you, Jim, this is where legends are made.”
“Howard, each of these mechs represents a unique philosophy of combat. Power, agility, stealth, adaptability—it’s incredible how different yet effective each design is. The next battles will decide whose approach reigns supreme.”
“Jim, what we are witnessing is the pinnacle of ingenuity and determination. These competitors have poured their hearts, their minds, and their very souls into their creations. It is not merely a contest of machines but a celebration of vision, courage, and resolve. As the final matches approach, we will see not just who wins, but who defines what it means to be the best. Stay with us, ladies and gentlemen, for the grand finale is upon us. This… is history in the making.”
As Howard’s voice faded, the screen transitioned back to the roaring arena, where the final four competitors were preparing for the battles of their lives. Jackie Stewart tightened her gloves, Kovacs watching from the sidelines. The stage was set, the stakes immense, and the road to glory had never felt more perilous.