The Grand Arena was a cauldron of noise, a chrome-plated bowl holding a hundred thousand screaming souls. The sound wasn't just audible; it was a physical weight, shaking the force-fields that caged the violence.
In the centre of the ring, Lack Flameheart stood like a void in the chaos. His white porcelain mask reflected nothing.
Opposite him stood Jareth.
The arrogant aristocrat of two months ago was gone. In his place stood a pale figure mapped with pulsing violet veins. He wore robes of expensive silk, but the air around him formed a heavy, sweet, copper-like atmospheric wall.
It radiated the absolute chemical signature of a slaughterhouse disguised with perfume.
Jareth’s eyes were bleeding violet tears.
"An Independent?" Jareth scoffed, his voice layered with a strange, metallic echo. "They let garbage into the ring now? I'll wash you away in ten seconds".
Target: Jareth (Water Noble). Vessel: God of Water (Executor Tier). Status: Corrupted (Serum Infusion).
Boss, the Light Devil chirped, his voice unusually low. That’s not just Void energy. That’s biological. It is an absolute soup. Liquid necromancy. He’s injecting a mixture of blood to boost his stats.
"Fighters, ready!" the referee shouted. "Begin!"
Jareth didn't wait. He lashed out with a speed that defied his class.
"Tide Art: Hydro-Lash EX!"
Instead of clear water, the whip manifested as a thick, viscous, dark red liquid. It cracked the sound barrier, aiming straight for Lack’s neck.
Incoming Attack: High-Velocity Fluid Dynamics. Logic: You cannot dodge a whip that moves faster than sound. Illogical Solution: If you vibrate at the same frequency as the object, you occupy the same space without touching.
Lack didn't dodge. He focused on the frequency.
SNAP.
"Technique: Molecular Phase-Shift."
The whip passed through Lack’s neck; his structural density operated as a literal ghost. It hit the barrier behind him with a thunderous SPLAT.
The crowd gasped.
"Missed?" Jareth blinked, his violet veins bulging. "Impossible."
He lashed out again. Horizontal sweep. Vertical strike. Diagonal cut.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Every strike passed through Lack’s body. Rather than splashing, the red liquid phased harmlessly through his solid form.
"What is this?" Jareth screamed, panic starting to bleed into his arrogance. "Illusion magic? Are you a Mirage user?".
As Lack phased through the next attack, a droplet of the red liquid grazed his cheek.
[System Alert: Fossil Memory Resonance Detected.]
The arena vanished. The cheers died, replaced by the silence of a cold, dark facility. Not the Factory in Sector 88. Somewhere else. Somewhere colder.
Massive glass vats filled with red liquid stretched into the dark. Floating in the vats weren't monsters. They were teenagers. Humans. Beastmen. Elves. All young. All screaming silently.
An ancient fossil—the jawbone of the Gluttony Devil—ground them down, merging their flesh and bone into a slurry. A soldier strapped to a chair was force-fed the liquid until his veins turned black and he died, purifying the serum.
The liquid Jareth was using... was them. It was people.
The vision snapped off, and Lack stumbled back into reality. Nausea delivered an absolute, physical blow.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Oh god, the Light Devil whispered. He’s a cannibal.
Jareth ceased to be a rival. The figure standing in the ring was nothing more than a walking, breathing graveyard.
"You..." Lack’s voice trembled with cold fury, distorted by the mask. "Do you know what is in your veins, Jareth?".
"Power!" Jareth roared, his eyes bleeding violet tears. "Pure power! Water Art: Tsunami EX!".
He raised both hands. A massive wave of the red-black sludge rose behind him, threatening to engulf the entire ring. It screamed with the voices of a hundred sacrifices.
"It’s not power," Lack whispered. "It’s a crime."
He vanished. Agility 477.
He reappeared directly in front of Jareth, inside the rising wave of blood-mana.
Objective: Separate the Foreign Biology from the Host. Method: Resonance Disruption. Theory: The Living and the Dead vibrate at different frequencies.
"Knuckle Style: The Tuning Fork."
Lack tapped Jareth's chest with two fingers—right over his heart.
Ping.
A gentle ripple spread across Jareth’s chest. Then, the ripple turned into a violent shudder. The vibration travelled inside Jareth’s body, bypassing the liquid and vibrating the DNA itself.
"Argh!" Jareth gagged, clutching his chest.
The serum reacted. The thousands of biological fragments in his blood—the bones, the flesh of the sacrifices—suddenly rejected him. The vibration broke the binding agent.
"Get... out..." Jareth wheezed. His skin rippled, the foreign biological fragments actively moving underneath.
SPLAT.
Jareth coughed up a massive amount of black sludge mixed with bone fragments. The violet veins on his skin turned grey and withered. The massive tsunami behind him lost its cohesion and collapsed into a harmless puddle of gore.
"My power..." Jareth wheezed, falling to his knees, shivering as the withdrawal hit him instantly. "Why... does it hurt?"
Lack leaned down, his blank mask reflecting Jareth’s terrified face.
"Because they don't want to be inside you," Lack whispered.
He flicked Jareth’s forehead.
Thwack.
Jareth collapsed, unconscious.
[Winner: The Glitch]
The arena was silent. Deadly silent. Their collective focus bypassed the victory entirely. Target locks anchored directly onto the puddle of black gore Jareth had coughed up. It hissed, dissolving into the stone.
? ? ?
[Scene Change: The VIP Box]
High Councilman Aamon leaned forward in his golden chair. His eyes, burning with divine light, narrowed.
"Interesting," Aamon murmured to the figure standing in the shadows behind him—the Silent Shadow.
"He didn't overpower the infusion," Aamon noted. "He purged it. He separated the foreign biology from the host. That boy... he understands the makeup of the serum."
"Shall I remove him?" the Silent Shadow asked, fingering a dagger.
"No," Aamon smiled. "Let him climb. If he understands the serum, perhaps he understands the Hearts. He will make a fine test subject for Sarah in the finals".
? ? ?
[Scene Change: The Locker Room (Block D)]
Lack walked into the locker room and immediately fell to his knees, dry heaving.
"Lack!" Torin rushed over with a towel. "Are you okay? You won!"
"I'm fine," Lack spat, wiping his mouth. "Just... disgusted."
"Show off," Volt grinned, leaning against the lockers. He had already won his match in Block A. "Though I admit, making him puke his guts out was a nice touch".
"It wasn't a touch," Lack said, standing up shakily. "Volt... the Dreallytear. They aren't just recruiting students. They're kidnapping them."
Terra looked up from her herb kit. "Kidnapping? Who?"
"Teenagers," Lack whispered. "From the war zones. From the slums. Maybe even from here. The serum Jareth used... it was made of them".
The room went cold.
"That explains the missing persons reports," Rian said, his voice dropping to absolute zero. "The Council suppresses them, but the numbers in the Outer Sectors have been rising for years."
"We need to find the source," Lack said. "The Factory in Sector 88 was just a lab. The slaughterhouse... it's somewhere else."
"Maybe Kuro knows," Torin suggested. "The Tiger is awake in the infirmary on the ship. He kept muttering about 'The Harvest'."
"We'll ask him tonight," Lack said.
" Bad news first," Torin interrupted, checking his datapad. "Block C's match data just updated."
"Sarah?" Lack asked.
"She didn't fight," Torin whispered. "She walked into the ring, opened her eyes, and her opponent... evaporated".
"Evaporated?"
"Turned to steam," Torin shuddered. "Referee called it a 'Divine Mercy.' She’s not just a battery, Lack. She’s a walking nuke."
Lack clenched his fist. The image of the vats faded, replaced by the immediate threat.
"Then we have to be faster," Lack said. "We have to break the vessel before she detonates."
? ? ?
[System Record: Character Progression]
- New Mechanic: Fossil Memory Access (Triggered by Serum Contact).
- Intel: Void Serum confirmed as Biological Necromancy.
- Karmic Energy: 0.9%