The crowd howled. Ryma, from her poolside throne, gave a single nod. Agony turned and walked away without a word. Reef-maw stood tall in the center of the arena, bloodied but unbroken, the glowing gold and purple flecked crystal cupped in both hands like a sacred oath. She bowed. Not to the crowd. Not to the clans. To the crystal. And somewhere deep inside it...Herja opened one eye. "Not her. Not yet." I didn't cheer when Reef-maw won.
I didn't flinch when she took the crystal—his crystal—from Hammer-fists' chest like it wanted her. I just watched. Breathing slow. Eyes locked. Mind spiraling.
From the edge of the upper terrace—hidden behind a column draped in stitched Beast-hide banners—I tracked Reef-maw's every move. The crowd roared around me, but it was distant. Muted. All sound had narrowed to the pulse of that odd squarish silver crystal humming in her hand. Reef-maw exited the arena through the southern tunnel. No entourage. No clan escort. Just quiet steps and a low shoulder, vanishing into a maintenance corridor that fed into the back guts of the Vein.
I followed.
The tunnel sloped upward. Rusted freight shafts creaked on their pulleys overhead, carrying crates of gene-threaded fabric and bone mod parts to street-level vendors. I kept my hood up, footsteps light, staying just far enough behind not to get noticed. Reef-maw emerged into the surface world through a crumbling storm drain hatch on the south side of the city, where the pavement bled into the bones of forgotten construction sites.
I slipped through five seconds later. The night air hit my face like a slap, dry. Electrical. I crouched behind a collapsed bridge and watched Reef-maw stretch her arms, crack her neck, and start walking toward a quiet side street that led back to the surface canal lanes. The crystal still pulsed in her hand—like it was breathing.
They came from the dumpsters and graffiti-tagged walls. Six of them—a splicer crew. Mismatched, bone-welded, chemically enhanced.
One had cables instead of fingers, each tipped with a syringe. Another had three mouths along her jawline, muttering overlapping battle prayers. A third clicked along the wall like an insect, grafted with too many joints. Reef-maw paused mid-stride. "Not tonight," she murmured. "Oh, I think tonight's perfect," the lead Splicer purred. His left eye was a cracked lens still glowing. "That crystal's still warm. We can smell it." They closed in.
Reef-maw dropped into a low stance—elbows out, knees bent, tail coiled like a spring. But she was already hurt. Bruised. One eye still half-swollen from the fight. She lunged first—caught the syringer by the throat, twisted, slammed.
But the others surged. Blades out. Needles flicked. One gassed the air with a hallucinogenic spray. Reef-maw coughed. Slowed. One Splicer got behind her. Raised a cleaver grafted from rib bone.
And then—
CRACK.
He flew backward into a dumpster with a sickening metal clang. I emerged from the shadows, hoodie flared, hands already bleeding from the punch! "Six-on-one?" I spat. "That's just bad form!" Reef-maw blinked. "You followed me?" "I couldn't help it, but aren't you glad I did."
Another Splicer charged. I ducked, drove my shoulder into the attacker's gut, spun into a hip throw—Iron Root style. Their body crunched into the pavement! A third swung a chain. I tanked it with my forearm—wrong move—but I gritted through the pain and wrapped it around my elbow, yanking the Splicer forward for a brutal knee to the chin.
"Back-to-back?" I called out mockingly. "Fine," Reef-maw hissed. "Try not to die." We stood back-to-back. She spit venom into one Splicer's eyes while I took down another with a rear naked choke that ended in a savage neck crank. Two left. The three-mouth Splicer and the wall crawler.
"Yours or mine?" I asked, panting. "Yours," Reef-maw said. "I've got a score to settle with the one who prayed before bleeding." I sprinted forward launching up a concrete ledge, I kicked off of it and slammed a high kick into the crawler mid-wall. The body twisted in mid-air, landed wrong, didn't get up. Reef-maw danced around the three-mouthed fighter's rage swings. Let her tire out. Then cracked a pipe across her back and bit her. Literally.
The Splicer screamed then collapsed, he didn't rise. The alley was quiet. Sirens echoed far off, but this place was already forgotten. Reef-maw slumped against the wall. I wiped blood from my chin. We stared at each other. "You helped me," she said, not quite a question.
"Yeah," I replied. "Didn't mean to. But I did."
A pause. Then she reached into her satchel. Pulled it out. The crystal. Herja's heart. Glowing, low and steady like a sleeping lion. "You want it?" Reef-maw asked.
I nodded.
"Then earn it."
She stood tall again, body battered but proud. "One-on-one. No tricks. You win, it's yours."
"And if I lose?" I asked.
Reef-maw smiled. "Then you die pretty." She tossed the crystal into the air and caught it behind her back like a street magician. Reef-maw circled me slowly. No audience. No clans. Just the dust, the desert night cold, and the sound of breath echoing off concrete ribs. She tossed the crystal from one hand to the other, letting it hum, low and steady like a heart preparing to judge.
I rolled my shoulders. "Still recovering?" I asked.
" I have enough left to crush you," she replied.
"We'll see." I spoke. We bowed. Not out of respect—out of ritual. This was no street brawl. This was a claim fight. One crystal. One winner. One future.
Reef-maw struck first—an elbow feint, tail sweep low. I bunny hopped over it, spun, and caught her wrist. She twisted under it—gills flaring, mist spraying from them. I held my breath and blinked back tears. Then dove inside her guard and suplexed her into the concrete. Reef-maw bounced. Rolled. Came up smiling.
Reef Maw: "Nice. Borrow that from the ring?"
"No," I said. "From the dojo."
She came again. Faster. We locked. The fight was grappled and sweat, no flash, just grind. Reef-maw was faster. but I was cleaner. My takedowns were smooth. My pressure unrelenting. But she slipped out of danger like she was born in water. We broke. Both bleeding. Both crouched. Hands low.
"Tap?" she offered.
"Never."
We clashed again—and I caught her mid-transition. Side control. Mount. Rear Naked Choke setup. "Don't make me break you," I whispered.
" Do it " she growled.
I locked the choke. She tapped. Once. Twice. Clear. Silence. Reef-maw gasped under me, laughing even as her ribs shuddered. "Tide's yours now, champion." She reached to her belt, pulled the crystal free, and pressed it into my open palm. "I think this crystal likes fighters," Reef-maw said.
"Let's hope it likes you."
She watched him bleed. She watched him break. But he did not beg. He could have taken it. The moment she fell. But he earned it. He spoke with fists. He sung with grapples. His pride was shaped discipline. Now… he asked nothing. He simply displayed. Herja liked that. Maybe this one is worthy to wear her.
Phoenix Safehouse — Marla's comm-link cracked and patched, dust on her combat jeans, frustration bleeding from her jaw. She typed quickly on a neural-pad, still catching her breath from vault-hopping across half the city.
Encrypted Comm to CENO Central | Priority Redline
FROM: Agent Cruz
TO: Cmd. Vance / Division Ops
Update on Subject Reef Maw-7C:
Missed crystal transfer window. Beast Crystal has passed to Reef-maw Amphibian Clan.
Secondary transfer occurred post-match—confirmed.
Unknown Subject currently possesses Beast Crystal.
This was not a sanctioned acquisition. He won it in a street fight. Awaiting orders, I'm not stopping him. Not yet. She hit send.
My apartment at night was a breathing thing. A low rumble, neon-choked and full of secrets. I pedaled slow, crystal tucked in my hoodie pocket like a stolen soul. The streets narrowed the deeper I went—cracks in the sidewalk, rusted signage, old graffiti trying to say something no one understood anymore. I reached my apartment. C-fourteen. sublevel. The kind of place where water always sounded like it was leaking, even when it wasn't.
Inside was dark and still. A mattress. A mini fridge. A flickering bathroom light I hadn't fixed in months. And now... the crystal. I sat on the coffee table like a heart that refused to stop dreaming. It hummed when I looked at it. A sound with no volume. Just presence. I circled it like it might bite.
"What the hell are you?" I muttered.
No answer.
I poked it with a pen. Nothing. I tapped it once with a knuckle. Warm. Twice. Still. Then, without thinking, I pressed it to my chest. The hum changed. Just before I could react—It flared. Hot. Cold. Light. Soundless screaming.
And then—
A shape. A pulse. A voice. Female. Fierce. Echoing inside my ribs like thunder behind glass. I staggered. Fell.
Darkness swallowed the room.