Latham observed the opponent's assault patterns with exhilaration, experimentally issuing a mental command: Slow down further.

  The training mech's movements decelerated marginally. This subtle adjustment confirmed his theory – the fused soul-sensor consciousness enabled precise control gradients. A triumphant grin spread across his face. With this breakthrough, Card's million-credit weekly contract became attainable. His pulse quickened at the prospect.

  Yet fortune's wheel turned abruptly. Distracted by visions of wealth, he failed to notice the eight-legged mech's whip-like limb arcing toward his cockpit.

  ?CRASH!?

  The training mech reeled backward, hydraulic fluid spraying from a fresh dent in its torso. The fused consciousness had mitigated damage through expert weight redistribution, but the humiliation stung. Latham glared at the spider-mech through his viewscreen.

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  "Think I'm some wounded kitten?" he snarled.

  A mental command detonated like ordnance – Dismantle it.

  The training mech erupted into lethal motion. Piston-driven fists became blurs, targeting hydraulic joints with surgical malice. Latham gaped as his mechanized proxy overwhelmed the tier-five instructor. Where Schneider needed decades to challenge tier four, this fusion consciousness toyed with tier five like a cat with crippled prey.

  ?KER-THUNK!?

  The spider-mech's central chassis imploded, its wreckage dissolving into stardust – the simulation's traditional victory display. Latham stared at the fading sparks, awestruck by his proxy's brutality.

  His wristcom chimed. Schneider's hologram materialized, brows knitted in concern. "You refused Card's offer?"

  "Changed my mind. I'll sign."

  Schneider's jaw slackened. Behind him, a servant whispered, "Master only persuaded him once..."

  The transmission died on Schneider's sputtered protests. Latham leaned back, fingertips tracing the cockpit's control panel. Somewhere between stolen souls and machine code, a monster had been born – and it hungered for more.