The back room of Stitch’s clinic was even darker than the front. It was a small space, lit only by a single, flickering orange bulb that hung from a frayed wire. The walls were made of damp concrete, and the floor was slick with a mixture of oil and something that looked like old blood.In the center of the room, on a metal table that had been bolted to the floor, lay a man.He was a "Reject." That was what the Sump called them. He had a massive cyber-port installed in the side of his neck, a piece of heavy iron that looked like it had been hammered in by a blacksmith. The skin around the port was not pink or brown. It was a deep, angry purple. It was weeping a yellow fluid that smelled like vinegar and burnt plastic.The man was dying. His chest moved in short, shallow jerks. His eyes were rolled back, showing only the whites."He’s gone," Stitch whispered, standing by the table. His magnifying lens clicked as it zoomed in on the wound. "The rejection has reached his spine. I tried

The darkness in the lower levels of the Valhalla Academy was not like the darkness of the Sump. In the Sump, the dark was heavy and wet, smelling of rot and chemicals. Here, the dark was dry and cold. it smelled of ozone, burnt wires, and the recycled air that only the poor ever breathed.Silas Kapito moved through the ventilation shaft like a shadow. He was no longer the weak, shaking boy named Kian. The Prime-Yeast he had eaten in the Sump was burning in his belly. It was like a small sun, sending heat and power into his muscles. His heart beat with a slow, strong rhythm. He felt alive for the first time in centuries.He reached a metal grate and stopped. He didn't breathe. He didn't move. He became a part of the wall.Below him, in a narrow hallway lit by a single, buzzing orange light, a man was walking.The man was big. He wore a black uniform with the Syndicate’s hidden mark—a small silver coin sewn into the collar. His name was Kael. He was one of Instructor Vako’s "collectors.

The sun did not shine in the lower levels of the Valhalla Academy. Instead, there was only the "Grey Glow." It was the light that came from thousands of old, flickering tubes on the ceiling. It made everyone look like a ghost.Silas Kapito walked through the "Junk Heap." This was the place where the Academy threw away its past. It was a mountain of metal, miles long and hundreds of feet high. There were broken arms of giant robots, rusted plates from old tanks, and miles of copper wire that looked like dead snakes.The smell here was sharp. It smelled of old oil and red rust. It was a smell Silas knew well. It was the smell of a world that had forgotten how to take care of its tools."I need a magnet," Silas whispered.He climbed over a pile of crushed lockers. His body felt different today. The Prime-Yeast he had eaten was working. His muscles did not shake as much. His heart was steady. He felt like a hunter.He reached the "Crane Graveyard." This was where the massive industrial cr

The silence in the Hollow was the most terrifying thing Silas Kapito had ever heard. It was not a peaceful silence.It was the silence that comes a split second after a bomb goes off, but before the air rushes back in to fill the hole.High on the massive holographic screens that hung over the red sand of the arena, the numbers had stopped dancing. The bright blue credit symbols, which had been climbing toward three million, suddenly flickered. They turned a sickly, bruised purple. Then, with a sound like a dying bird, they vanished. In their place, a single word appeared in giant, white letters:BALANCE: 0.00Five thousand people held their breath. In the VIP boxes, the Nobles froze with their glasses halfway to their lips. In the betting pits, the students stopped shouting. The guards at the doors stopped laughing. Then, the world exploded."What?!" a voice roared from the front row. It was a Noble, his face red with expensive wine and sudden rage. "Where is the payout?! I had tw

In the center of the arena stood Marcus. He was a mountain of black metal. His "Slayer-Suit" was the pinnacle of Academy technology. It didn't just enhance his strength; it replaced it. Huge pistons hissed on his shoulders. A glowing blue power-cell hummed on his back. His hammer, the "Star-Crusher," pulsed with an angry orange light."Where is he?" Marcus rumbled. His voice was projected through the arena’s speakers. "Where is the little bug? I want to finish this."Vako stood at the edge of the sand, his eyes darting back and forth. "He'll be here. He has to be here. If he doesn't show, he’s executed anyway."Suddenly, the lights in the arena flickered. A single door at the far end of the sand opened.A figure stepped out.It was a boy. He was small. He didn't wear armor. He didn't wear a uniform. He wore only a pair of simple black pants. His chest was bare, showing the faint silver shimmer of the Neural-Web.In his right hand, he carried a sword that was so black it seemed to dri