The broadcast screen filled the prep room wall, crisp corporate production values making everything look cleaner than it was. Beatrix stood with her team, watching the pre-fight interview cycle. Standard procedure, give the audience their narrative before the blood started flowing.

  Kuzima appeared on screen, and the room went quiet.

  She sat in the interview chair like she owned it, platinum hair pulled back in a style that probably cost more than Beatrix's quarterly salvage income. Winter-pale skin that had never seen the inside of a mining tunnel. Corporate suit immaculate, her platinum with dashes of Dis clan red. A brand. Every inch the professional.

  The interviewer leaned forward. "Thoughts on your semifinal opponent?"

  Kuzima's smile was slight, perfectly calibrated. "The scavenger has been... surprising. A testament to what desperation can achieve with the right resources."

  Beatrix felt her jaw tighten.

  "She's made it to the top four," the interviewer continued.

  "She has. And credit where due, she's maximized her limited options." Kuzima leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to clinical assessment. "But resources matter. Preparation matters. And mine are simply better."

  Pause. Perfect timing. The interviewer waited.

  "The fight will be fast. Professional." Kuzima's smile widened fractionally. "I'll make it as painless as possible."

  Another pause.

  "For both of us."

  The interview cut to commercial. Betting odds scrolling beneath.

  Bodhi reached over and killed the feed.

  "Kid," he said quietly.

  Beatrix didn't turn around. Couldn't trust her face.

  "Look at me."

  She turned. Bodhi's expression was serious, measuring.

  "This is different," he said. "She's not just fighting you. She's fighting the story."

  "What story?"

  "Desperate scavenger versus corporate professional. Underdog versus favorite. She wins, it's expected. You win, it's a miracle." He crossed his arms, prosthetic hand clicking softly against real flesh. "She's going to try to make you look bad. Make the fight ugly. Prove that you don't belong here."

  "I don't belong here."

  "Exactly. So don't play her game." Bodhi leaned closer. "Defend. Make her work for every inch. The audience expects her to win fast, bore them. They'll boo her, not you. Put the pressure on her to perform."

  Beatrix processed that. Tactical sense.

  "And kid?" Bodhi's voice dropped lower. "When she starts talking, and she will, don't listen. She'll say things designed to make you angry. Make you chase her. Make you forget the plan."

  He met her eyes.

  "Be ice. You understand?"

  Beatrix nodded.

  Rain had been quiet during the interview. Now he stood, tablet in hand, expression careful.

  "We need to talk about the Protocol."

  Beatrix felt the room's energy shift. "Not now."

  "Yes, now." Rain pulled up holographic displays. Neural pathway scans. Stress indicators. All of them lit up like overloaded circuits. "The neural strain is at 93%. We're at the edge."

  "I'm fine."

  "You're not." He gestured at the scans. Everyone could see them now. Kivi's eyes widening. Bodhi's jaw setting. "One more major Rage Mode activation and you're looking at permanent damage. Maybe worse."

  "Two more fights," Beatrix said. "That's all I need."

  "You might not survive two more fights. Not like this." Rain's voice was steady, clinical. The way he got when he was terrified. "We need to install safety limiters. Protocols that will cap your stress response before it goes critical."

  "No."

  "B…"

  "I said no." Beatrix kept her voice level. "We're not doing this. Not now."

  Rain looked at her for a long moment. Then he looked at Bodhi.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Back me up here."

  All eyes turned to the old fighter.

  Bodhi was quiet for what felt like an eternity. His organic hand came up, rubbed his face. When he spoke, his voice was heavy.

  "Rain's right."

  Beatrix felt something cold settle in her chest.

  "This is for your protection, kid," Bodhi continued. "We install the override, you fight smarter. You still win. But you come out the other side intact."

  "Smarter. Like I've been fighting stupid?"

  "Like you've been fighting desperate," Rain said. "There's a difference."

  "Not to me."

  She looked at Kivi. "You too?"

  Kivi's hair flashed conflicted yellow-orange. She wouldn't meet Beatrix's eyes.

  "I'm hardware, Beatrix. Apps aren't my call."

  Three against one.

  The cold in Beatrix's chest spread.

  "You want to control my fight? Fine."

  She pulled up her comm unit. Scrolled to the message she'd deleted yesterday. Restored it. Projected it for everyone to see.

  Kuzima's offer. Every word.

  The room went silent.

  "Dis Clan is offering my brother's life if I throw the fight," Beatrix said, voice flat. "Everything he needs. Everything I can't give him. All I have to do is submit. And fight for them for eternity."

  She looked at each of them in turn.

  "If you install that override, if you take away my choice to fight how I need to, you better put the chains on yourselves."

  Rain's face had gone pale.

  "So decide. Now." Beatrix's voice was ice. "Safety protocols that might make me lose? Or trust me to know my own body?"

  Nobody spoke.

  Because there was no good answer.

  "Thought so."

  Beatrix walked out.

  Behind her, the team sat in fractured silence.

  She found a quiet corridor in the prep area. Leaned against the wall. Let herself shake for exactly ten seconds.

  Then locked it down.

  Footsteps. Virgil announced Kivi’s presence before she arrived.

  "I know you're pissed."

  "I'm fine."

  "You're not. But that's okay." Kivi pulled out her tablet. "I've got something that might help."

  She showed the aesthetic app interface she promised. Visual overlay. Enhancement protocols. Not combat-relevant. Pure vanity.

  Beatrix looked at the preview. Saw herself transformed, not different, just more. Hair perfect, skin glowing with health that didn't come from a bottle. Every line optimized. Like the person she wished she could be.

  "This won't protect you," Kivi continued. "Won't make you safer. Just vanity."

  "I… I’m not… that." She pointed at the woman on the screen.

  "Rain would call it a waste of processing power. Bodhi would say it's a distraction. They'd both be right." Kivi's hair flashed defiant red. "But they want to control how you fight. Fine. They don't get to control how you look doing it."

  It sounded as meaningless as screaming at an asteroid to stop.

  "Install it," Beatrix said.

  Kivi shared with Virgil the file. Cinderella App. The process was fast.

  "Done." Kivi grinned. "Energy reserve too. Just in case you need to go nuclear."

  "You think I will?"

  "I think Kuzima's about to learn why you don't corner wounded animals." Kivi's expression sobered. "The reserve won't activate unless your core systems are completely depleted. Emergency use only. "

  Virgil noted privately.

  "I know the risks," Beatrix thought.

  Kivi studied her. Then nodded. "Okay. Let's make you beautiful."

  She activated the aesthetic app.

  The effect was immediate. Subtle shimmer across Beatrix's skin. Vanishing bruises. Hair shifting to adaptive purple, with natural shine and moisture. Makeup that enhanced without looking artificial. Styling that made her look like she belonged in corporate spaces, not scrapyards.

  Beatrix looked at her reflection in the corridor's polished wall. Barely recognized herself.

  "Fuck," she whispered.

  "Yeah." Kivi's grin was fierce. "Like a million credits."

  Two minutes to walk-out.

  Beatrix was alone in the corridor leading to the arena entrance when she heard footsteps behind her.

  Rain.

  "B, wait…"

  "Don't." She didn't turn around.

  "I'm sorry. About the override. I just…"

  "Want to protect me. I know." Now she turned. Kivi's aesthetic app was active. She looked stunning. She felt dangerous. Everything she wasn't but wanted to be. "You always do."

  Rain saw her and forgot what he was going to say.

  His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

  "I look good, don't I?" Beatrix stepped closer. Confidence radiating off her like heat. "Kivi's work. Pure aesthetics. Completely impractical."

  "B…"

  "You should've trusted me, Rain." Her voice dropped. Closer. Intimate. Sharp as a blade. "Should've trusted that I know my own limits. That I can make my own choices."

  "I do trust you…"

  "No. You trust your data. Your protocols. Your safe, controlled version of me that doesn't scare you." She was close enough now he could hear her whispering in his ear. Close enough to feel the heat coming off her. "But that's not who I am. And it's not who's going to win this fight."

  "Then who is?"

  She smiled. .

  "Try to keep up, Appsmith. Maybe you'll find out."

  Then she was walking away. Confidence over the top. Performance art designed to hurt.

  And Rain stood there, watching her go, knowing he'd just lost something he couldn't name.

  The entrance tunnel was dark except for emergency lighting. Red-tinged. Like being inside a wound.

  Beatrix walked alone. No team escort.

  The aesthetic app was working overtime. Every camera she passed, she looked like she belonged on magazine covers, not blood-soaked arenas.

  Virgil reported.

  "Show me."

  Text scrolled across her vision:

  @GrindWatcher:

  @DisInsider:

  @LimboOdds:

  @ScavFistStory:

  The comments kept coming. Thousands per second.

  Virgil said.

  "Oh, I will."

  The crowd noise hit like a physical force. Limbo's main arena was packed. Thirty thousand people in the stands. Millions more watching on feeds. All of them waiting to see if the scavenger could actually pull off a miracle.

  Beatrix stepped into the light.

  Cameras everywhere. Recording everything. The aesthetic app made her glow slightly under the harsh arena illumination, Kivi's work reading the lighting conditions and optimizing on the fly.

  She smiled.

  Kuzima stood in the opposite corner. Stylish but practical platinum combat suit. Technical team behind her. Full team in her Control room, analysts, tactical coordinators. A full corporate operation.

  She looked perfect. Untouchable. Professional.

  Everything Beatrix was pretending to be.

  > RISK ASSESSMENT: 1 HOSTILE - KUZIMA

  > Threat level: Extreme

  The Arbiter stepped forward. Blake, in his Acheron robes. Raised his hand. The crowd went silent. Thirty thousand people holding their breath.

  "Fight."

  The gong sounded.