The screens hummed.
Blue light washed over Scarlett's face as she sat at the red table, surrounded by skeletons. Vincent's father. Six other ghosts. Players who'd bet everything and lost.
She wouldn't lose.
The folder lay open before her. Pages of names. Locations. Codes. Asset numbers and dollar amounts. Human suffering reduced to ledger entries.
Jules snored on the cot.
Exhausted.
Bruised.
Loyal.
Dom sat in the corner, mechanical arm whirring. Repairing. Watching. Always watching.
"You're not sleeping," he said.
Not a question.
"Neither are you."
"I don't sleep."
"Ever?"
"Not since the fire." Dom's voice dropped. "Not since I pulled you out."
Scarlett turned. Looked at him. Really looked. The scars. The mechanical arm. The weight he carried.
"Why save me?"
Dom was silent. Long enough that she thought he wouldn't answer.
Then: "Because you remind me of her."
"Who?"
"My sister. Claire."
The name hit like a fist. Scarlett's breath caught. "Claire was your sister?"
"Half. Different fathers. Same mother. Same fire." Dom's jaw tightened. "Margaret burned them both. Claire for knowing. My mother for hiding her."
"And you?"
"I was late." He stood. Walked to the screens. Touched one showing Neon Bay. Gray. Choked with fog. "I pulled you out because I couldn't pull them out. I stayed because someone has to be on time. For once."
Scarlett stood. Walked to him. Close. Not touching.
"Then let's not be late tomorrow."
Dom turned. Gray eyes meeting hers. Burning. "Tomorrow we end it. Or die trying."
"Or both."
"Or both," he agreed.
---
Morning came like a blade.
Gray light through the basement's single window. High. Barred.
Jules woke first. Groaning. Stiff. But functional. He moved to the terminal. Started typing.
"I need access."
"To what?"
"Everything. The Seven Houses' network. Their satellites. Their broadcast systems." He looked up. Green eyes sharp despite the bruising. "If we're doing this, we're doing it big. Every screen in Neon Archipelago. Every phone. Every billboard."
"Can you?"
"Not alone." Jules bit his lip. "I need Kai."
Scarlett stiffened. "Kai Nakamura?"
"He controls the Blood Circuit's network. Underground servers. Off-grid. If I patch into his system, I can route through a thousand nodes. They can't shut it down. Can't trace it."
"And the price?"
"Same as before." Jules looked away. "Access. To everything. To me. To us."
Scarlett walked to the red table. Placed her palms flat. Felt the dust. The history. The weight.
"Call him."
"Scar—"
"Call him. Whatever he wants. We burn them tomorrow. No matter what."
Jules nodded. Picked up his phone. Dialed.
---
Kai arrived at noon.
Alone. No guards. Just a man in a leather jacket. Silver-streaked hair catching the blue light. Amber eyes amused.
"You look terrible," he said to Scarlett.
"You look like you're enjoying this."
"I'm enjoying the odds." Kai walked to the screens. Touched one. "Margaret doubled the price on your head. Four million alive. Two million dead. Asher added his own bounty. One million for the folder. No conditions on your state."
"Asher's awake?"
"Asher's furious. Humiliated. Alive." Kai smiled. "Your knife work was imprecise. He's scarred. Not silenced."
"Next time I'll aim lower."
"Next time you'll kill him?"
Scarlett didn't answer. Kai's smile widened. "Good. Uncertainty is interesting."
He turned to Jules. "Your plan. Tell me."
Jules explained. The network. The nodes. The broadcast. Kai listened. Nodded. Asked technical questions.
"Possible," he concluded. "But not from here. We need my main server. Heart Island. The Blood Circuit's core."
"Margaret will have it watched," Dom said.
"Margaret will have everything watched." Kai shrugged. "That's why we walk in openly. As guests."
"Guests of what?"
"The tournament." Kai looked at Scarlett. "Tonight. Main event. Winner takes the purse. Loser takes the fall."
"You're not a fighter."
"No. But you are." Kai's eyes dropped to her hands. Her knuckles. Still split from Rosa's training. "Rosa entered your name. Officially. The Hollow's champion versus the Circuit's best. Winner gets two million. And access to my private box. Where the servers are. Where we broadcast from."
"No," Dom said. Flat. Final.
"Yes," Scarlett said. Same tone.
"You can't—"
"I can. I will." She turned to him. "It's perfect. Margaret won't strike in public. Not during a broadcast event. Too many witnesses. Too many cameras."
"They'll strike after."
"Then we move fast. In. Broadcast. Out. Before the final bell."
Dom's mechanical arm whirred. Angry. Frustrated. "You're gambling everything."
"I'm calculating. Odds. Timing. Variables. This is what Vincent trained me for. What you trained me for. Trust the math."
"The math says you could die."
"The math says we all die eventually." She smiled. Cold. Calculated. "The math says this is our best shot. Our only shot. So we take it."
Silence. Heavy. True.
Then Dom nodded. Once. Sharp. "Fine. But I'm in your corner."
"Not Kai?"
"Kai controls the network. I control your survival." Dom looked at the silver-haired man. "Any objections?"
Kai spread his hands. Smiling. Always smiling. "None. I enjoy a good show."
---
The Blood Circuit roared.
Ten thousand voices. Chanting. Betting. Living and dying on every punch.
Scarlett stood in the tunnel. Beneath the arena. Red gloves. Black shorts. The scar on her shoulder exposed. A target. A warning. A story.
Rosa Voss appeared from the shadows. "Changed your mind?"
"No."
"Good." The former champion tossed her a mouthguard. "Your opponent. Viktor Kowalski. Polish. Former special forces. Current mercenary. Margaret hired him this morning."
"She knows."
"She suspects. Not the same thing." Rosa stepped closer. "He'll try to end it fast. First round. Overwhelming force. Don't let him."
"And if he does?"
"Then you die. The broadcast dies. Vincent's legacy dies." Rosa's eyes were hard. But something underneath. Respect? Hope? "Don't die, Scarlett Vance. I've bet too much on you."
Scarlett fitted the mouthguard. Flexed her hands. "How much?"
"Everything I have."
"Then I'll try not to disappoint."
The bell rang. Not for her. For the undercard. Filler. Entertainment.
The real fight was coming.
---
Viktor Kowalski was a mountain.
Six-four. Two hundred forty pounds. Muscle layered on muscle.
Scarlett was five-eleven. One hundred forty. Fast. Smart. Outmatched on paper.
The announcer's voice boomed. "Champion versus challenger! Winner takes all!"
The crowd screamed. Ten thousand voices. One hunger.
Kai sat in his private box. High above. Servers humming beside him. Jules at the keyboard. Fingers ready. Dom in the tunnel. Watching. Waiting. Armed.
The bell rang.
Viktor charged. No feeling out. No technique. Just force.
Scarlett moved. Sidestepped. His fist grazed her cheek. Close. Too close.
She countered. Jab to his ribs. Solid. Useless.
He laughed. Spun. Backhand caught her shoulder. Sent her sprawling.
The crowd roared. Bloodlust.
Viktor advanced. Scarlett rolled. Stood. Shook her head. Clearing. Calculating.
He telegraphed. Shoulder dropped before every strike. Weight shifted before every kick. Patterns. Always patterns.
She let him come. Absorbed a body shot. Felt ribs crack. Ignored it. Waited.
He wound up. Big right. Knockout punch. His shoulder dropped.
She moved. Inside. Elbow to his throat. Knee to his groin.
He staggered. Surprised. Hurt. Not done.
Scarlett pressed. Combination. Jab. Cross. Hook. All to the body. Weakening. Slowing.
He swung. Wild. She ducked. Spun. Kick to his knee.
Crack.
He fell. Screaming. The crowd went silent. Then exploded.
Viktor tried to stand. Couldn't. Knee destroyed. Fight over.
Winner by TKO. Scarlett Vance.
---
She didn't celebrate. Didn't raise her arms.
She walked to Kai's box. Straight. Purposeful. Bleeding. Broken. Functional.
Kai opened the door. Smiling. Amber eyes burning. "Impressive."
"Start the broadcast."
"Patience. We have—"
"Now."
Scarlett pushed past him. To Jules. To the servers. "Now. Before Margaret realizes. Before they shut us down. Now."
Jules looked at Kai. Kai nodded. Once.
"Begin."
Fingers flew. Codes entered. Systems linked.
The screens showed Neon Archipelago. Every billboard. Every phone. Every television. Hijacked. Controlled. Theirs.
"Thirty seconds," Jules said. "You're on."
Scarlett stood before the camera. No makeup. No script. Just her. Bruised. Bleeding. Alive.
"Five," Jules counted.
"Four."
She thought of Vincent. Dead in his chair. Of Claire. Burning. Of all the names in the folder.
"Three."
She thought of Dom. Pulling her from fire. Of Jules. Bleeding for her. Of Rosa. Betting everything.
"Two."
She thought of herself. The Hollow rat. The casino dealer. The champion. The weapon.
"One."
She smiled. Real. Dangerous. Final.
"You're live."
---
"My name is Scarlett Vance."
Her voice carried. Every speaker. Every ear. Every heart in Neon Archipelago.
"Three years ago, I died. In a fire. In a warehouse. In a lie."
She held up the folder. Opened it. Pages of names. Photos. Evidence.
"These are the Seven Houses' secrets. Their slaves. Their assets. Their currency of flesh and debt. I'm showing you everything. Names. Locations. Account numbers. Everything."
Screens split. Showing documents. Photos. Children in cages. Women in chains. Men with numbers tattooed on their skin.
The crowd in the Blood Circuit went silent. Ten thousand voices. One breath.
"This is their empire. This is their power. This is what they sell. What they trade. What they hide."
She looked directly into the camera. Into the lens. Into the world.
"I'm not asking you to fight. I'm not asking you to rebel. I'm asking you to see. To know. To choose."
She paused. Let the words land. Let them wound.
"Choose what kind of city you want. What kind of world. One where people are property. Or one where they're free."
She dropped the folder. Let it fall. Let it scatter.
"I'm Scarlett Vance. I was property. I was a number. I was dead."
She smiled. Cold. Calculated. Victorious.
"Now I'm the ghost who came back. And I'm not alone."
The screens showed Dom. Mechanical arm raised. Jules. Fingers still on keys. Rosa. In the crowd. Standing. Kai. Beside Scarlett. Smiling. Always smiling.
"We're the Hollow. We're the forgotten. And we're done being silent."
She reached out. Turned off the camera.
The broadcast ended. But the echo continued. In every heart. In every mind. In every choice made in the next breath.
The silence lasted three seconds.
Then the world exploded.
---
Alarms screamed. Everywhere.
Margaret's voice on emergency channels. Furious. Terrified. "Arrest her. Kill her. Anyone who helps her. Destroy everything."
Too late.
The files were copied. Downloaded. Shared. A million times. A million witnesses. A million accomplices.
Scarlett turned to Kai. "Your price."
"Paid in full." He was still smiling. But different now. Respect? Fear? Recognition? "Get out. All of you. My tunnels. Under the Circuit. They lead to the docks. To a boat. To freedom."
"And you?"
"I stay." Kai poured a drink. Whiskey. Neat. "Someone has to manage the chaos. Someone has to bet on the aftermath."
Scarlett nodded. Understood. Accepted.
She grabbed Jules. Grabbed Dom. Ran.
Through the tunnels. Through the dark. Through the world they'd just burned.
Behind them. Above them. Around them. Neon Archipelago changed. Forever.
The Seven Houses fell. Not completely. Not immediately. But falling. Always falling.
And in the ashes. In the chaos. In the new world being born.
Scarlett Vance ran. Not away. Toward. Toward the next fight. The next game. The next crown.
Broken. Sharp. Hers.