The winds of the upper realms howled as Lyra tightened the straps of her harness. The open cockpit of her Skysteed, Aetherclaw, vibrated beneath her as the massive mechanical bird adjusted its wings, sensing the tension in the air. Ahead of her, the floating spires of the Skybound Arena loomed, their golden banners flapping in the breeze.
This was it. The moment she had been waiting for.
“Ready, rookie?” a gruff voice crackled through her earpiece. It was Garran, her mechanic and the closest thing she had to a mentor.
Lyra smirked, though her hands trembled on the controls. “Born ready.”
“Don’t get cocky. These pilots won’t go easy on you,” Garran warned.
“I don’t expect them to,” she replied, her eyes narrowing.
The other pilots in the competition were already circling the arena, their sleek, polished Skysteeds casting long shadows across the clouds. Each one was a masterpiece of engineering, their wings glinting like blades in the sunlight. By contrast, Aetherclaw was a patchwork of scavenged parts and jury-rigged modifications.
Lyra had spent years restoring the ancient Skysteed, salvaged from a forgotten ruin on the outskirts of the Cloudsea. Its design was unlike anything she’d ever seen—sleek, feral, and far more advanced than the mass-produced models most pilots used. But its origins were a mystery, and its quirks made it unpredictable.
Perfect, she thought. Just like me.
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The Skybound Arena was alive with noise as the announcer’s voice boomed across the floating islands.
“Welcome to the next round of the Skybound Championships! Today’s challengers will face off in a high-speed circuit, with obstacles that only the bravest—and most skilled—pilots can navigate. Will the rookie survive her first match? Let’s find out!”
The crowd erupted into cheers. Lyra felt their energy, a mix of excitement and bloodlust, as she lined up with the other pilots.
The signal flare shot into the sky, its red trail marking the start of the race.
“Aetherclaw, let’s fly,” Lyra whispered.
The Skysteed responded instantly, its wings snapping open with a metallic screech. They launched off the starting platform, diving into the first stretch of the circuit. The wind roared past her, and her heart raced as she maneuvered through a series of spinning rings suspended in the air.
Behind her, the other pilots were closing in.
“Stay sharp, rookie,” Garran’s voice reminded her. “They’ll try to take you out early.”
He wasn’t wrong. A flash of silver streaked past her—a rival pilot, aiming a wing-mounted blaster at her flank. Lyra rolled hard to the left, narrowly avoiding the shot, and retaliated with a burst of plasma from Aetherclaw’s talons. The other Skysteed veered off, its paint scorched.
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The circuit grew more treacherous as they entered the obstacle field. Giant floating boulders swung on chains, and automated drones fired bursts of energy to disrupt the racers. Lyra relied on Aetherclaw’s agility to weave through the chaos, but she could feel the strain in its movements.
“Hold together,” she muttered, gripping the controls tightly.
As she neared the finish line, two rival pilots flanked her, their weapons primed. Lyra’s instincts kicked in. She pulled back on the controls, sending Aetherclaw into a sudden vertical climb. The other Skysteeds collided below her, their pilots ejecting just in time.
The crowd roared as Lyra crossed the finish line in third place—an impressive feat for a newcomer.
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Later, in the hangar, Lyra inspected Aetherclaw’s damage while Garran grumbled in the background.
“You’re lucky that bird of yours is as tough as it is,” he said, wiping grease off his hands. “Most machines would’ve fallen apart in that mess.”
“She’s more than tough,” Lyra replied. “She’s special.”
Garran raised an eyebrow. “Special doesn’t mean invincible. You’ve got bigger fish to fry in the next round, kid. And something tells me the competition won’t play fair.”
As if on cue, a figure stepped into the hangar. It was Kael Draven, the reigning champion of the Skybound Arena. His crimson Skysteed, Bloodwing, was infamous for its speed and firepower—and for the way its opponents seemed to suffer mysterious malfunctions mid-race.
“Well, well,” Kael said, his voice dripping with mockery. “The scavenger made it through. Impressive, for scrap metal.”
Lyra clenched her fists but said nothing.
“Word of advice,” Kael continued, stepping closer. “Quit while you’re ahead. This arena isn’t for amateurs.”
“She’s more than an amateur,” Garran growled, stepping between them.
Kael smirked. “We’ll see.”
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The following night, Lyra couldn’t sleep. She wandered the hangar, her thoughts tangled with doubt and determination. She found herself standing in front of Aetherclaw, running her hand along its metallic feathers.
“What are you?” she whispered.
The Skysteed’s eyes glowed faintly, as if in response.
That’s when she noticed the marking on its underside—a series of runes she hadn’t seen before. She traced them with her fingers, and a soft hum emanated from the machine.
Suddenly, her mind flooded with images: a team of engineers in a hidden laboratory, constructing Aetherclaw as part of a secret project. She saw glimpses of a power source—an orb of pure energy, pulsing with light—and heard whispers of a name: The Singularity Protocol.
“What does it mean?” she asked aloud, her voice trembling.
But the images faded, leaving her with more questions than answers.
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The next round of the tournament was a team battle. Pilots would form alliances, but Lyra knew better than to trust anyone. The arena was a battlefield, and everyone was out for themselves.
Kael was in her group, and from the moment the match began, it was clear he had a target: her.
The battle was chaos, with Skysteeds diving and weaving through the sky, their weapons lighting up the clouds. Lyra focused on staying out of Kael’s line of fire, but he was relentless, herding her toward the arena’s edge.
Just when it seemed he had her cornered, Aetherclaw reacted. Its wings flared with an electric charge, and a pulse of energy erupted from its core, disabling Kael’s weapons.
“What the—” Kael shouted, his Skysteed spiraling out of control.
Lyra didn’t wait to find out what had happened. She seized the opening and took out the remaining competitors, securing her place in the final round.
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Back in the hangar, Garran was waiting with a grim expression.
“You’ve stirred the pot, kid,” he said. “I did some digging. That bird of yours wasn’t just some experimental model. It was built to harness forbidden tech—tech that could change everything we know about the skies.”
“Why was it abandoned?” Lyra asked.
“Because it was too powerful,” Garran said. “And too dangerous.”
As the final match approached, Lyra knew the stakes were higher than ever. The Skybound Arena wasn’t just a competition—it was a battlefield for control over a secret that could reshape their world.
And she was the only one who could decide its future.