The motorcycle screams through the decrepit slum, and Orren’s eyes catch a massive holo-billboard flickering at the street corner, prompting a sudden question. “Kern, ain’t the Starblade Warrior trials kicking off soon? Interstellar Guild’s ads are hitting the damn slums now…”

  The Interstellar Guild… Kern’s eyes flash with raw longing at the name. The Interstellar Guild is the elite outfit in the Cassidia Sector, forging Starblade Warriors—badass, upgraded versions of regular fighters, a title dripping with prestige. Join the Guild, and you score a legendary Starblade, a weapon powered by nova energy. It looks like Orren’s laser sword at a glance, but its raw power could shred a tank.

  Becoming a Starblade Warrior means jacking up your strength, plus a fat boost in social status and credits. Every so often, the Guild tours the Cassidia Sector’s cities, scouting for talent. Word is, even some gifted slum rats get plucked by big shots, rocketing from filth to glory, their fates rewritten.

  Truth is, becoming a Starblade Warrior isn’t just Kern’s dream—Orren’s hungry for it too. Who wouldn’t want to be a powerhouse, lording over the masses? But the trials are brutal, borderline insane, demanding you slay some seriously nasty Voidspawn.

  “Is Bran, that sneaky bastard, gunning for the Starblade trials? That why he’s itching to fight Voidspawn?” Kern can’t help but speculate, suspicion coiling in his gut.

  “About two months ‘til the trials start,” Kern replies, voice clipped.

  By now, they’ve rolled into Slum District 246. It looks like any other shithole slum—streets crawling with junkies tweaking out, gangbangers huddling in knots, no hint of anything off. That’s because the Voidspawn’s nest is buried deep in an abandoned high-rise, known only to the whistleblower and a handful of others.

  Truth is, rumors of Voidspawn chowing down on folks ripple through slums all the time. After so many false alarms, barely anyone buys it anymore. Besides, this is the slums. Even if a Voidspawn’s coming to feast, most folks are too broke to flee. Might as well die—maybe the bug’ll sniff their rancid flesh and pass.

  “It’s in that building,” Kern carefully parks his beat-up bike, slapping on three digital locks and two physical ones before he’s satisfied to step away.

  Kern leads Orren into a derelict high-rise, its cracked facade sagging under decades of neglect, windows shattered, and walls tagged with glowing graffiti pulsing faintly in the dark. They delve deep into the building’s guts, and a choking, coppery stench of blood slams into them.

  “Sir, this is it. Already lost a shit-ton of people,” Kern says, voice tight with nerves.

  “Let’s scope it out,” Orren replies, cool as ice, shoving open the rusted office door ahead.

  Inside, the room’s a slaughterhouse. Gore-smeared walls drip with fresh crimson, and a massive Void Worm, four meters of slimy, segmented flesh, writhes in the center. Its eyeless head, studded with black, jagged mandibles, tears into a human corpse, ripping sinew and crunching bone, blood and entrails splattering its pulsating, pus-yellow hide. Behind it, a black-red nest, veined with glowing ichor, sprawls like a cancerous growth, oozing with embryonic sacs.

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  “Huh? You again? Our last deal’s done, yeah? I can snag my own humans to chow on—no need for your sorry ass,” the worm’s mandibles clack, gnawing the mangled corpse as it speaks, gore dribbling from its maw.

  Orren’s gut twists. Fuck me, even this thing’s an old buddy? I’ve traded with this slimy freak too?

  Kern’s face drains of color, his eyes darting back a step, glaring at Orren and the monster with raw suspicion. His mind’s screaming curses—he’s been played by Orren again. This whole thing’s gotta be a setup to screw him over. Is he, a lowly rookie cop, just a bargaining chip, about to be served up as this beast’s next meal? The rumors about Orren are true! This guy’s a spineless, conniving bastard!

  Under Kern’s tense stare, Orren flashes a crooked grin and saunters toward the monster. The worm’s panel pops up in Orren’s Neural Matrix:

  Neural Matrix: Enemy Scan

  Warning: Voidspawn Detected - Neural Energy Signature Confirmed

  Status

  ? Name: Void Worm

  ? Class: Low-Tier Lv2

  ? Level: Threat Level 1

  Attributes: Unknown. (No prior kills of this species to extract accurate baseline data.)

  Skills: Unknown

  This worm’s only Lv2, a step below the Lv3 bug he smoked before, and its Threat Level’s dropped from 2 to 1. He carved up an Lv3 without breaking a sweat—this’ll be a cakewalk. Hell, even Kern, a non-Spark punk, dared to come solo. The worm’s combat juice can’t be that hot. Kern’s no idiot, despite his hotheaded streak—probably packed some heavy firepower, thinking he had a shot.

  With that in mind, Orren draws his laser sword, closing in on the worm. The Void Worm spots Orren’s vibe and coils tight, its inky compound eyes atop its head glinting with cold malice. “What’s this shit? You turning on me? You looking to get fucked up, human?!” The monster bellows, its four-meter body thrashing in a frenzied roll.

  From the black-red nest behind it, a swarm of tiny worms—each the size of a finger—spills out, a wriggling, chittering tide that’d make anyone’s skin crawl. The sheer number’s enough to fry your nerves—arachnophobes would drop dead on the spot.

  But Orren and Kern came ready. Kern whips out a flamethrower, torching the squirming swarm, flames roaring as the critters pop and sizzle, their charred husks piling up. He’s still eyeing Orren, half-expecting a betrayal, but roasting these bugs? Can’t go wrong there.

  With the flamethrower clearing the small fry, Orren charges the big worm, sword raised. “Let’s test my new toy on your slimy ass! How nasty is Energy Slash’s upgrade? Surge Blade!”

  Orren swings his laser sword, a blazing arc slicing toward the hulking worm. Boom! A shockwave of raw energy erupts, blasting the worm sideways, its hide splitting in a jagged gash, black ichor spraying like a burst artery. The damn thing screeches, a gut-wrenching wail of agony.

  “Fuck you, you human scum! I’m too strong for this! You can’t kill me—my mother’s a Lv5 Void Warrior! You’re dead meat if you try!” It tries to yap more, but Orren ain’t listening. His second strike rockets out.

  This new skill’s power? Way beyond what he imagined. Killing a Lv2 worm? Child’s play!

  Kern, off to the side, stands slack-jawed, floored by Orren’s raw power. Wasn’t this guy just a sleazy conman who bribed his way to a chip upgrade? Scuttlebutt said without credits, he’d never qualify as a Spark Level warrior. But this? Kern can’t even process it. The rumors were dead wrong!

  And in Kern’s mind, Orren’s a spineless coward. That worm just name-dropped its Lv5 Void Warrior mom, and Orren’s still swinging?