The arena wing's heavy door groaned shut behind us, the sound a weary, metallic protest that echoed through the vast, abandoned space. It sealed away the final sounds of our escape: the dying rumble of Leo's frustrated roars from the pit below, and the distant thunder of the underbelly's hidden currents. The rain had paused, leaving the air thick with the metallic tang of residue, gilded dust and the faint, musky scent of singed mane still clinging to our clothes like a boast.
Inside, the space felt both confined and huge. My boots crunched softly on the gold-flecked floor, blending with Mira's energetic scuffs and Lena's measured treads, a temporary record of our shared triumph. The ancient arena lights buzzed overhead like failing stars.
The mend's warmth pulsed steadily in my veins, easing the sharp edge of adrenaline's retreat. It couldn't, however, fully soothe the deeper ache in my chest, the persistent grief for Andi. Allies, the word resonated, warmer and more solid now, but still threaded with fear: How long can I bask in this light before my darkness eclipses it?
Mira leaned against a cracked pillar, catching her breath. Her ponytail was a tangled mess, shedding specks of gold dust. Finally, a tired but defiant grin broke through. "Pride fallen, glitch squad," she announced. "Your coil's a beast, Rei, turned that roaring vortex into a kitten's purr!" She paused, her eyes reflecting the toll of the duality, before pulling a slightly squashed protein bar from her pack. She tossed it my way. "Fuel up. Can't let the roar-master fade out mid-mend."
I caught it, the simple act grounding me. As I unwrapped it and took a bite, gratitude stirred deep inside. She's the spark in the gloom. But doubt twisted in tandem: Phobos (caution) hummed, "A roar tamed, Rei, guard the balance." Deimos (aggression) rumbled, "Squad's got claws now, let's tip Libra's scales."
Lena moved with quiet purpose, shaking out her jacket and hanging it on a rebar hook, letting the gold dust cascade to the floor. "Escape clean," she murmured, her tone steady but weary. "The Council's roar is muffled for the cycle." She turned, meeting my eyes. "The red held back this time. Did the strength from having allies... did it steady the coil?"
I nodded slowly, letting the silence hang. "It did. The core was tugging hard, trying to make me hoard the roar instead of breaking it." The admission felt raw. "Deimos fueled the strike, but you two... by shattering their boasts, you anchored me. It felt like... a pride of our own for that stretch."
Mira's grin softened into a genuine smile. She gently bumped my shoulder. "Pride glitch, then," she said, her voice dropping, the cheer yielding to vulnerability. "We're all chasing our own roars, clones echoing ghosts, parents' voices half-remembered." Lena reached out, her fingers grazing my sleeve, a quiet, intentional spark of unity. "We scale the same heights, Rei," Lena added softly. "Mends twist, but shared? We balance them. Or fall trying, that's the fracture's true gift."
We extended the respite, planning the next move on Libra's domain, a sanctum in the city's equilibrium zones where the Council's verdicts are weighed. We divided the last of the protein bars, the modest sweetness a reprieve from the lair's musk. Our plan emerged: clones to unbalance the weights, daggers to tip the measures, and my pride-mend to corrupt the fulcrum. Laughter finally emerged, easing the tension as Mira mimicked Leo's booming defeat, drawing a subtle, warm smirk from Lena. This is Andi's legacy, bonds that challenge the eclipse.
We parted soon after, retrieving our bikes and vanishing into the resuming drizzle. I cycled alone back to the weary boarding house. I peeled off my damp gear, the pendants settling cool on my chest, their gentle luminescence a watch in the dim room.
Slumber was close, but my mind was restless: Am I the imbalance that topples the team? The Whisper was dim, but the authority's thorns recalled: Unite... or tip alone. Sleep finally claimed me, filled with green-silver visions: twins boasting synchronization, venom flourishing in hearts, and my comrades firm at my sides.
Morning was hesitant, the sky bruised and heavy. I rose gradually. The mend had eased my muscles, but my mind was still fighting its own shadows: Allies fix the rift, but am I the tilt that breaks them?
I cycled through the persistent mist. Lectures were a distant drone; my thoughts were focused on the twins: Mira's spark, Lena's careful scrutiny. The mission was clear: Scale's Tip.
In the afternoon, I met Mira and Lena at a deserted balance hall near Libra's underrealm, an area of poised quiet, rumored to be warded by "judgment-phantoms."
"Rei, scale on mark," Mira bantered, her vitality surging despite the weighted aura. Lena scanned the equilibrium's edge. "Libra's domain is all about counter-tilts. The core's in the fulcrum, warded by verdict-storms. We mirror the weights, you mend the tip."
We descended cautiously into the fulcrum: a poised maze of verdict-resounding grilles. Mira went first, her duplicates undulating into the tilt, holographic apparitions drawing away the verdict-wards. Lena's blades shimmered as she cut through the grille secures with surgical precision, partitioning the metal with a soft hiss. I followed, the pendants heating.
The core sanctum was a grotto of swirling verdicts and silver bioluminescent barriers. Libra herself presided, her silver armor gleaming like equilibrium clouds, her beam raised to weigh judgments over a mesmerized Scorpio. "Glitch poise," she intoned, her voice deliberate and deep.
Lena carved a path, her blades nipping into the verdict swirls to quell them. Mira's reverberations amplified the disequilibrium, fracturing the illusions that skewed the tilts. I grasped the pendants, the mend's thrum aligning with the tilt's cadence.
I channeled Andi's serene vigor into Phobos, and then Deimos's fury at our stolen lives. My coil lashed out, venom haze darkening the flux and fracturing the crystalline core in a deluge of skewed verdicts. Upgrade: Balance Mend, Venom Tames Tilt, Augments Allies.
Libra faltered, her armor dissolving to a drenched, defeated figure. "Eclipse... tips against you," she whispered. We fled into the obscurity as wardens rushed in.
Back in the balance hall, Mira high-fived me, panting and damp. "Scale tipped, your coil's a monster!" Lena gave a subtle grin. "The rift tilts broader. Next: Scorpio's sting, to venom the pierce."
I smiled, the mend's heat chasing away the chill. The grief for Andi was milder; the allies' light was vivid. The balance was tipped, but with them, the path ahead seemed traversable.
I dragged myself into the cramped, familiar sanctuary of my room. The immediate priority was shedding the night's grime, a mix of metallic rain, gilded arena dust, and the cloying scent of the mend's work.
I stripped off my damp gear, the weight of the night, the triumphant clash against Leo, the quiet victory in Libra's domain, lifting with the sodden fabric. My skin felt clammy, a ghost of adrenaline still buzzing beneath the surface. I ran a quick hand over the stubble on my jaw, feeling the fine grit still clinging there.
The bathroom was small and smelled perpetually of mildew. I turned on the water, the spray lukewarm and hesitant, but it was enough. I scrubbed away the physical residue: the gold flakes clinging to my lashes, the faint metallic tang on my tongue, and the phantom sensation of the venom's heat. It felt like trying to wash away a memory.
As the water rinsed over my chest, I felt the cool weight of the pendants, the fragmented trophies, now resting on the small shelf. They were quiet, but their connection was a low hum in my core. The wash felt like a necessary ritual, not just for cleanliness but for separation: closing the door on the glitch and the fight, if only for a few hours.
Climbing into bed, the mattress sagged with a familiar sigh. I was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't quiet. I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, the mend's residual warmth a soft thrum against the cool sheets.
Libra tipped. We did it. Not alone, but together.
The problem, the deeper bruise that wouldn't mend, was this persistent question: Was I the tilt that would ultimately unbalance the people who risked everything for me? Andi was swallowed by the fog, a darkness that felt like a relative of my own venom. What if my need for their light, my reliance on their duality to keep the red at bay, was just setting them up for a fall? Mira and Lena were fighting their own fractured histories; I was adding my heavy, volatile future to their load.
I stared into the gloom, watching the faint glow of the fragments on the stand. Allies fill the void. It was true, a solid, grounding truth. But the fear remained, a low, persistent hum beneath the gratitude.
The image of Libra's falling form, her whisper of "Eclipse," echoed in my mind. We had tipped the scales of judgment in our favor, but my own internal balance felt more precarious than ever. I finally let my eyes drift shut, not to true rest, but to the slow, steady current of sleep, hoping it would hold the darkness at bay until morning.