And survivors don't stay in cages forever.
Most fighters in the Ararza Volumes are born in vats, fed combat data through neural drips, and thrown into the arenas of the Oligarch's Crucible by their tenth cycle. I was different. I was Vol 29—the "salvage series," stitched together from the broken remnants of earlier volumes. My left arm is a Vol 12 prototype (too twitchy, prone to locking mid-swing). My eyes are Vol 8 (excellent low-light, but they bleed when I process too fast). And my name, 314, means nothing except that three hundred and thirteen others before me failed. i--- Ararza Vol 29 Young Female Fighter 314
The announcer's voice crackled: "Winner: i--- Ararza Vol 29 Young Female Fighter 314. Status: Combat Effective." And survivors don't stay in cages forever
I landed on its back just as gravity flipped again, now pressing us both into the ceiling. Its four arms flailed. My twitchy left arm locked up—perfect timing. It made my grip unbreakable. I drove the dagger into the fracture. I was Vol 29—the "salvage series," stitched together