"Rain?" Beatrix's voice carried urgency as she deflected another blade strike.
"I'm seeing it, shit, they're good…" Rain's fingers flew across his interface, code streaming faster than normal vision could track. "They're using a cascade protocol. Three-point simultaneous attack designed to overload defensive responses."
"Can you stop it?"
"Working on it! Virgil, I need you to…"
"Good thinking. Kivi, watch B's combat Apps, if anything starts glitching, tell me immediately."
"On it," Kivi confirmed, her screens showing Beatrix's system architecture in real-time.
In the arena, Beatrix felt nothing, no indication her team was fighting a desperate battle to keep her systems intact. That was the point. The digital warfare was invisible to her, handled by people she trusted.
Troika struck again, faster now, pressing his advantage. His blade scored another hit, this one across her ribs. Shallow, but accumulating damage.
Virgil reported, calm despite the chaos.
"How long have we been fighting?" Beatrix asked, blocking, dodging, her enhanced muscles starting to burn.
Felt like longer.
Virgil's warning cut off.
Beatrix's HUD flickered. Just for a second, but in combat, a second was eternity.
"What was that?" she demanded.
"They got through," Rain said, frustrated. "Just a probe, barely two seconds, but they touched your targeting overlay. Virgil caught it, terminated the connection, but—"
"But they know where to hit now," Beatrix finished.
"Yeah. They'll try again, harder. B, we need to end this before they succeed."
Virgil confirmed.
Beatrix blocked another strike, feeling the impact vibrate through her reinforced bones. Her power reserves were at 73%, enough for Rage Mode, but she needed the right moment.
"Kivi, if I activate Rage Mode, how long can I maintain it?"
"At current power draw? Fifty-three seconds maximum before you hit critical reserves."
"We're only using twenty," Beatrix said, making the decision. "Rain, can you hold their team off my systems for twenty seconds?"
A pause. Then: "Yeah. Yes. If Virgil helps, we can block anything for twenty seconds. After that, no promises."
"Twenty seconds is all I need."
Virgil advised.
"Tell me when."
The fight continued, brutal, professional, evenly matched. Troika's blade work was exceptional, his integrated weapons giving him reach and versatility Beatrix couldn't match without her Apps.
But she had something he didn't: perfect team coordination.
"Beatrix," Kivi's voice. "Your Power Strike is charged. Eighty-seven percent efficiency."
"His defensive Apps are strong though," Rain added. "Power Strike alone won't drop him. You need something more."
Virgil interjected.
"When?" Beatrix asked, dodging another blade.
She trusted him. Trusted all of them. Blocked Troika's next strike, countered to his shoulder, reset her stance.
Troika's blade flashed, once, twice, three times. Beatrix blocked the first two, ducked the third.
"Rage Mode, activate."
The synthetic adrenaline hit like lightning in her veins.
Everything accelerated. Her enhanced muscles flooded with power, neural pathways firing faster than biology should allow, pain receptors dampening, combat instincts sharpening to razor focus.
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The world slowed, not actually, but her perception accelerated to the point where Troika's movements became readable, predictable, slow enough to counter.
Virgil confirmed.
"Hit him, Beatrix!" Kivi shouted.
Beatrix moved. Enhanced speed translated into explosive force, her fist connected with Troika's midsection, power amplified beyond anything her baseline augmentations could achieve.
He staggered. His defensive Apps absorbed most of it, but the impact was still massive.
She pressed the attack, combination strikes, each one faster and harder than baseline, each one driving Troika backward. His blade systems retracted defensively, trying to guard against the onslaught.
"They're trying to shut down your Rage Mode!" Rain's voice, urgent. "All three of them, hitting your App architecture…"
"Block them!" Beatrix drove another strike into Troika's ribs, felt something crack beneath his defensive layer.
"Blocking…Virgil, help…"
"Got it, yes…okay, they're fragmenting their attack…"
Virgil reported.
Beatrix didn't have time to listen. Troika was recovering, his combat instincts overriding the pain, his blade systems extending again for a desperate counter-attack.
She caught his wrist, enhanced strength letting her grip hard enough to feel the metal beneath his skin. Twisted. His blade scraped across her shoulder instead of her throat.
Power Strike was ready. Fully charged. The accumulated kinetic energy of the entire fight, compressed into her fist.
Troika's eyes met hers. He knew what was coming.
She released his wrist, drew back her right hand…
…and drove the Power Strike directly into his chest.
The impact was massive. Defensive Apps cracked, energy dissipated in a visible shockwave, and Troika flew backward, hit the sand hard, skidded three meters.
The synthetic adrenaline cut off. The world returned to normal speed. Beatrix's muscles burned, suddenly aware of every strain, every microtear from the enhanced performance.
Troika wasn't getting up. He was conscious, Beatrix could see his chest rising and falling, but incapacitated. Pain was visible, ribs cracked. The fight was over.
"Holy shit," Rain breathed. "B, that was…"
"They're not done!" Kivi interrupted. "Troika's team is still attacking! They're trying to…"
Virgil warned.
"Rain!" Beatrix called out, still standing in the arena, watching Troika but unable to do anything about her team's digital battle.
"I've got it, Virgil, reinforce sectors three and seven, Kivi, can you verify App integrity?"
"Checking… yes, everything's stable, they're just throwing shit at the firewall now…"
"Then we're good. We're good." Rain's laugh was slightly manic. "They're backing off. We held them."
The crowd roared. The fight was over. She'd won.
"We did it," Kivi's voice, filled with relief and joy. "B, we actually did it!"
"Team effort," Beatrix said, breathing hard, her body screaming from the exertion. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Damn right," Rain agreed. "That was perfect coordination. Professional. Clean."
Virgil reported.
Beatrix raised her hand, not showboating, just acknowledging the crowd's reaction. They appreciated skill, and this had been a skilled fight. Two enhanced combatants, both supported by professional teams, both giving everything.
She'd just been slightly better.
Or her team had been.
The difference didn't matter.
Rain's laugh was rare and genuine. "Told you the firewall would hold. They threw everything at us."
The crowd roared, not the hostile noise from Rauk's fight, but something different. Appreciation. Respect. They had beaten Cerberus Clan's champion cleanly, professionally, with perfect team coordination.
Beatrix raised her hand in triumph, a smile of joy in her face. The crowd's noise swelled. She started to believe The Grind could be won through skill and preparation.
Arbiter Gorgyra Blake rose from his throne. This time, his scarred face had a grinning smile that sent a chill in Beatrix’s spine.
His hand raised. Thumb position unclear for three eternal seconds. Then, a thumb down.
Blake's voice carried across the arena, calm and satisfied: "Let this clarify Acheron's position to those who questioned our strength."
The crowd gasped as one soul. Then madness.
There was a roar, an angry one from the crowd. The Cerberus box erupted in shouting. Savage howls on other sides. Buzzing drones capturing reactions from multiple personalities. Frenetic commentators screaming to the cameras. Blake ignored it all, eyes focused on Beatrix.
[ARBITER COMMAND: DEATH]
[COUNTDOWN FOR EXECUTION: 00:59]
“Oh, no.” Kivi’s voice broke.
“Fuck no.” Rain said, quietly.
"Please." Troika wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the cameras, at whoever was watching from Cerberus strongholds. His family, maybe. His clan leadership. Everyone who needed to see he died with dignity. Troika closed his eyes. "Make it quick. That's all I ask."
But Beatrix still didn't understand what had happened. She could feel all eyes on her, she watched the clock ticking, but her mind refused to accept it. She looked at Troika, defeated, no threat. Looked at the crowd, silent, waiting. Looked at Blake, smiling.
"What…? He's already beaten. The fight's over."
"Execute…? No, why?"
"I can't." The words came out broken. "I promised mom I wouldn't…"
[COUNTDOWN FOR EXECUTION: 00:31]
[WARNING: INITIATING REFUSAL PROTOCOL | STAGE 1]
Virgil reported, urgent now.
The Stygia Contract tattoos started burning—not heat, just pure pain signals firing through every nerve. It lanced up her arms, into her shoulders, spreading through her chest like fire in her veins.
Her knees buckled. The arena tilted. She caught herself before falling, barely, muscles spasming under the neural assault.
She gasped, stumbled. The arena watched in silence. Drones buzzed around, her pain broadcasted to millions.
Virgil warned.
"Let me die," she whispered.
"I told her I wouldn't become this. I told her…"
The pain intensified. Her heart was stuttering, neural pathways misfiring. The contract was killing her from the inside out, methodically, efficiently, exactly as designed.
And in the red haze of pain and broken promises and her mother's disappointed ghost, Beatrix thought about Dante.
Dante in his hospital bed, cells deteriorating, treatment interrupted because his sister had run out of money. Dante who was still alive, still fighting, still trusting her to save him.
Dante who needed her to be alive.
Even if being alive meant becoming the thing her mother had begged her never to become.
[COUNTDOWN FOR EXECUTION: 00:15]
[WARNING: REFUSAL PROTOCOL | STAGE 2]
The pain increased. It was clinical. Her body retained perfect mobility, but every pain module was being activated.
"I'm sorry, Mom," Beatrix whispered. Blood was running from her nose now, the contract tearing her apart from inside. “Dante needs me."
[COUNTDOWN FOR EXECUTION: 00:10]
She looked at helpless Troika, at the cameras, at Blake's satisfied smile.
"Don't look, Mom. Don't look now." Beatrix whispered to the sands of Limbo.
She activated Rage Mode.