The heavy gates screeched open as Nova stumbled back through the tunnel, boots soaked in blood and melted ice. The red goal light still clung to her skin like a curse. Her double-edged blade dragged behind her, leaving a faint scratch trail in the steel floor.
She didn’t want to look up. But the sound made her.
Grunts. Screams muffled by sorrow. Metal doors slamming open.
They were dragging Reaper’s body across the hall, what was left of it.
And crouched beside him, like a storm on pause, was Butcher.
His massive arms were trembling, soaked in his brother’s blood. Face twisted with grief. One hand clenched Reaper’s shattered helmet.
Then he looked up.
Straight at her.
Nova froze.
His eyes weren’t just red. They were wild. Burning. Raw. The look of a man who’d lost the only person keeping him human. That loss dripped off him like venom. He bolted for her. But she stood there, unfazed as the guards grabbed him, holding him at bay.
“Next match,” he growled, voice cracking like old leather, “I’m taking your head!.”
Nova said nothing. Her knees were weak, but not from fear. It was everything. The weight. The war inside her. The chip hummed beneath her skin. The memory of Reaper’s words. Her mother’s face. She turned away.
Let him burn. Let him stew. Because deep down, she knew something now.
If she wanted to survive this place...
She’d have to become something even worse than these monsters. Numb.
The steel doors hissed shut behind her.
Nova didn’t realize how quiet it was until she stepped out of the tunnel.
Then..
“ROSE! ROSE! ROSE!”
The chant hit her like a wave.
Jinx was the first to grab her, arms tight around her waist, tears in her eyes and blood on her gloves. “You crazy girl,” she whispered, voice shaking. “You really did it…”
Dez clapped so hard it echoed. “I swear, you made that ice your own runway, baby!” He looked like he wanted to kiss her and scream at the same time.
Mute stood back, sketchbook clutched to his chest. He just nodded. One hand made the shape of a heart in the air.
Petal was already tending to her side, gently dabbing the blood with a homemade cloth soaked in biogel. “You were beautiful out there,” she said softly. “Terrifying. But beautiful.”
Nova just stared at all of them, dazed.
“You ok?,” Vera cut in, stepping forward with a look of pure pride and curiosity. Her arms crossed, but her eyes were warm. Nova blinked.
“ Yeah.”
Vera smirked. “That’s my homegirl. And now? You’ve earned your first real reward so says the guards.”
Nova blinked. “Whats that?”
“No more cells, forever. Not until midnight at least. And a winner's dinner.” Vera smirked. “Enjoy the freedom, Rose.”
The crew whooped louder at that, Dez whistled, Jinx tackled her again, and even Mute smiled.
Nova didn’t laugh. She couldn’t. Her body still ached, and her heart still held that brutal image of Reaper’s last breath…
The lounge in the upper rec wing had nothing but cracked couches, flickering lights, and vending machines that ate tokens. But tonight, it felt like a palace.
Nova sat on the arm of one of the couches, plate in hand, listening to Jinx and Dez argue over who would’ve had Reaper splattered first, if she hadn’t beat them to it.
“I’m just saying, baby got style,” Dez said, popping a chip in his mouth. “If I did it, the guy would’ve looked like roadkill.”
“Which is why you ain’t the one the crowd’s chanting for, dummy,” Jinx snapped, elbowing him.
Mute silently passed Nova a drawing: it was her mid-spin, petals flying, with the words “Rose Bloom” written underneath in careful ink.
Nova smiled, a real one this time, even if it was soft and worn. Did she really look so cool.
“Thanks,” she whispered, taking it.
“Are you ok?” Petal asked, nudging her gently.
“Yeah,” Nova nodded, brushing hair from her face. “Just tired.”
As midnight neared, Vera appeared in the doorway, tapping her wristwatch. “ Time to head back, I'll be right behind after I check us both in k?”
“Yeah.”
Groans and playful boos followed Nova down the corridor, but she only waved, the warmth of the moment still tucked under her ribs like armor.
But then, on the way to her cell, she spotted him.
X.
He was just sitting there in the shadowed corridor beside the maintenance bay, elbows resting on his knees, head down like he was thinking or waiting… or just breathing.
She stopped.
Before she could decide to say anything, they came.
Three figures moved in from behind. Fast. Too quiet. Weapons glinting.
Nova’s eyes widened.
Ambush.
The first two pounced, and X exploded into motion, rising like a shadow snapping to life, twin-blades splitting from his staff. He moved like a phantom, slicing one attacker’s arm and disarming another with a brutal knee.
But there was a fourth, like this was planned.
Sneaky. Fast. Creeping up with a crowbar raised.
Nova didn’t think. Her body acted before her brain did.
She lunged.
CRACK.
The crowbar hit her armguard instead of X’s skull. Pain jolted up her forearm as she shoved the attacker back with a growl, slamming her elbow into his chest and knocking him down.
X turned sharply, mask glowing, breath harsh.
The remaining attackers fled, the fear of backup making them scatter like roaches.
For a second, it was just the two of them. Breathing. In silence.
Nova clutched her stung arm and stared at him. “You aight?”
He didn’t respond.
Didn’t nod. Didn’t speak.
Just stared at her through those glowing blue X’s.
Nova frowned with one hand on her hip as she pointed at him with her finger moving up and down at him. “Guess that’s your thank you, huh?”
Still nothing.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t mention it.”
Then she turned, heading back toward her cell. Slower this time.
She didn’t look back, but she could feel it, the weight of his gaze, cold and sharp, following her every step.
X.
There was something about him. Something she couldn’t quite place. The way he moved, the way he didn’t move, the way he just stood there when the world was falling apart around him. Silent, but with a presence that seemed to stretch across the entire damn rink.
As she passed her cell, the door sliding open with its usual metallic hum, she hesitated for a split second. She wanted to turn around. To say something.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she stepped inside her cell and the door sealed behind her with a soft whoosh. The walls closed in. But, even as the door slid shut, she felt a lingering sense of… something.
She slumped down on her bed, exhausted. Her arm ached, and the bruises from the fight earlier were starting to show. But what really weighed on her wasn’t the battle. It wasn’t the blood on her hands or the fear in her chest. It was the weight of what was ahead.
Her breath slowed as the thought tugged at the edges of her mind, the images of her fight with Reaper flashing behind her eyelids. She couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way. If that cold, indifferent look was hiding something she didn’t quite understand.
But then, as she curled up on the bed, the steady hum of the facility filled the silence. She sighed, eyes closing.
And deep in the shadows outside her cell, X stood.
Watching.
The rink felt different today, the air heavier, the ice colder than it had been before. Nova’s breath was shallow, her body still aching from the last battle, the exhaustion settling in like a weight she couldn’t shake. She glanced across the ice at her opponents.
Butcher was already there, waiting, a fierce glare fixed on her. His massive form was intimidating, like an avalanche ready to crush everything in its path. But what really made Nova’s stomach churn was the rage in his eyes.
He wasn’t just angry that she had beaten him before. He was furious because she had killed Reaper. His brother. The reality of it hit Nova like a slap to the face, the weight of what she had done settling heavily in her chest. She had killed Reaper, and now, Butcher was going to make her pay.
Butcher just stared, blood in his eyes as he looked at her barely containing himself.
Nova looked down.The guilt, the regret, everything felt so raw. She had killed to survive, but that didn’t make it any easier. Her hand trembled on the grip of her blade as the lights above cast long shadows on the ice. She looked around again.
“ Vera?”
There was Vera.
Nova’s gaze flicked to her, and a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. This isn’t just another match. This is real.
Vera had been her friend. Or at least, she had acted like one. But now? She was her opponent. They had crossed the line, and that line meant something. In Vault-Zero, alliances didn’t mean much when survival was on the line.
Vera was smiling as always, but there was something different about it now. It wasn’t friendly. It was cold, calculated. She was part of the game now, part of the fight.
Nova pushed down the disappointment. She didn’t want to have to face her or watch her die here. And then…she looked at the corner of her eye.
X stood a few feet away, watching her . A rival, Nova thought. She could feel it in her gut. They weren’t allies. Not in this arena. He was fast, skilled, and no one knew exactly what he was capable of. He was out for her. And she was out for him. Maybe she should have let him die.These people had really done her dirty today.
“Players, prepare for the match. Begin in three... two... one...”
The buzzer echoed through the rink, and the world exploded into motion.
Butcher charged first. His speed was terrifying for someone his size, and Nova barely dodged the strike as his massive fist swung for her. The ice cracked under the force of his blow, but Nova had already slipped past him, skating hard toward the far end of the rink.
She couldn’t afford to fight Butcher head-on. Not now. Not with how tired she was.
Butcher turned on a dime, swiping at her legs with a brutal kick, and Nova only barely avoided it. He’s strong, she thought, her heart hammering. Too strong to just dodge.
She kept moving, trying to stay ahead, but Vera wasn’t far behind. The sound of her skates slicing across the ice was deafening. Nova’s thoughts raced. If she could just get past Butcher, if she could just…
“Hey, Rose!”
CRACK.
A leg shot out, sharp and deliberate. Vera’s skate slammed into Nova’s ankle, and Nova went down, hard. Her body smacked the ice, shoulder taking the brunt, breath punched out of her lungs. Pain flared through her side, fresh over half-healed wounds. Butcher glides pat her blade in death mode.
She rolled, coughing, heart thundering as she scrambled back to her knees rushing off.
“Vera?” Her voice was small, disbelieving.
But Vera had already skated off, blending back into the chaos, no glance spared.
Nova’s stomach dropped. That smile… it had all been for show. Just another play in this game. Just another blade in the back.
And Butcher was coming again.
Fast.
He let out a roar that shook the boards, eyes locked on her like a beast seeing red. The ice cracked beneath each step as he barreled toward her with his full weight, axe-like stick raised over his shoulder.
Nova clenched her jaw, trying to shove down the sting in her chest and the fire in her throat. There was no time to hurt. No time to grieve.
But then Nova saw it.
X.
Coming for Vera.
He was locked in, silent and fast, blades whispering like razors over the ice. His posture wasn’t cocky, he was hunting. Cold, precise, almost surgical with how he closed the distance.
And Vera… she was running.
Not looking back. Not calling out to Nova. Just fleeing.
Nova’s chest tightened.
What the hell, Vera?
She didn’t know what hurt more, getting knocked down or the memory of Vera’s laugh in the cell, the way she celebrated Nova’s win like a sister. The way she’d said, “You earned it, Rose.”
Was that all fake?
Was she always planning to betray her?
But she didn’t look cruel right now. She looked… scared. Desperate. Like a girl in too deep, trying to survive.
Nova grit her teeth. Her body screamed for her to move, but her heart wasn’t sure which way to go.
And then…A sound behind her.
Butcher.
Nova’s breath hitched. The moment shattered. Time to move. She’d deal with Vera later.
Nova turned just in time to see him coming.
Butcher.
He didn’t charge, he stalked. Heavy steps cracking the ice beneath him. No wasted energy. No hesitation.
His eyes burned red with hate.
He wants to make it last…
She rose to her feet, blade drawn, but her limbs were slow, her muscles screaming. She wasn’t ready for him. Not really. Not after Reaper. Not after everything.
His fist swung in a wide arc.
CRACK.
The air fled her lungs as it connected with her side. Pain bloomed across her ribs, white-hot and immediate. She stumbled back, coughing, clutching at her chest. Something felt… off. Like something inside had shifted.
He didn’t stop.
He grabbed her by the collar and threw her across the ice. She skidded like a broken doll, the cold biting into her bruised skin. Her vision blurred, ears ringing.
“LOOK AT YOU! YOU THINK KILLING MY BROTHER MADE YOU STRONG?!” Butcher roared, his voice echoing off the walls like thunder. “YOU’RE NOT STRONG. YOU’RE JUST LUCKY.”
Nova tried to breathe, but every inhale burned.
He came again, lifted her up like she weighed nothing, and slammed her back down. The ice cracked beneath them.
Her knife clattered away.
She couldn’t move. Could barely think.
Everything screamed stop.
“You’re gonna die here, just like he did,” Butcher snarled above her, his breath hot and sour. “And I’m gonna make it hurt.”
Nova opened her eyes. Blood blurred her vision.
Nova tried to crawl, just get to her knees, but Butcher’s boot came down hard on her back, slamming her flat to the ice. A harsh crack echoed as her chin hit the surface, the sting of blood blooming in her mouth.
The crowd roared at first.
Then winced.
Another fist came down, this time across her face. Her head snapped sideways, pain searing through her skull. Her braid fanned out across the rink, streaked with red.
“C’mon, ROSE!” someone in the stands yelled.
But it wasn’t encouragement.
It was desperation.
Butcher hauled her up by her jacket, her feet dragging helplessly along the ice.
He looked her dead in the eye, his own wild, shining with madness. “Where’s all that fight now?” he growled. “Where’s your little dance, your petals, your spark?”
He drove his forehead into hers.
CRACK.
She collapsed again, blood splattering across the rink.
The crowd’s roar wavered, turned into gasps. Whispers.
Is she okay?
That’s enough… right?
But it didn’t stop.
Butcher kicked her side again. And again. The thuds echoed across the cold expanse of the rink. The sound was too real, too brutal. Skates screeched as the other players too into the game to even notice. Trying to survive.
Nova’s arm bent at the wrong angle as she tried to lift it.
Butcher grabbed her again. Slammed her into the boards. The whole barrier rattled on impact.
OOHHH,
The crowd winced in unison.
Then came silence.
Not a cheer. Not a chant.
Just the sound of Nova’s ragged breathing and the slow drip of her blood onto the ice.
She was curled now. Shaking.
He stood over her, chest heaving, face soaked with sweat and vengeance.
“You’re done,” he whispered.
Suddenly X slowed looking over and Vera halted to a stop.
“NOVA!” Vera shouted and started to rush over but X stopped her grabbing her upper arm. She looked back at him in outrage but her face changed as he sped away before she could react. Vera sighed, skating after him.
Suddenly, X slowed his pace, eyes locking onto the scene unfolding in front of him. His gaze narrowed, confusion crossing his face. Vera came to an abrupt stop beside him, her breath quickening.
“ What?”
X didn’t answer her. Instead, his focus was entirely on Nova.
The transformation was impossible to ignore.
Her body, broken and battered just moments ago, began to shift, bones clicking back into place with unnatural speed. Blood stained her skin, but her movements were no longer sluggish. They were deliberate, precise, and deadly. The air seemed to crackle with intensity as the chip within her body coursed through her system, revitalizing her in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. Every bruise, every wound, every cut began to heal before X’s very eyes.
A look of awe, mingled with disbelief, spread across X's face. He had seen technology used for strength, but this… This was something else.
Nova’s body rose, almost effortlessly, and for a moment, it seemed like time had stopped. Her breathing steadied, her eyes sharpened, and the spark that had been missing was suddenly back. She was a machine, perfectly honed and terrifyingly efficient.
Nova turned her head toward X, her voice carrying across the rink with a cold, venomous calm.
But it wasn’t to him that she spoke.
Her eyes locked onto Butcher, who was now preparing to advance toward her, rage still pulsing through his veins.
“ Don’t worry, You ‘bout to join yo brother in hell,” Nova’s voice was like ice, a quiet promise laced with venom. “Real soon.”
X’s chest tightened. His mind raced with confusion and concern. He didn’t know the full history, but the tension in the air was undeniable. Nova had killed Reaper, Butcher’s brother. And now she was going to finish what she started.
Butcher froze. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His face twisted in disbelief, fury, and the pain of loss that had driven him to this moment. But it didn’t matter.
The rage came back. His eyes burned brighter.
“I’m gonna make you suffer!” he snarled, stalking toward her.
Butcher’s anger surged like a tidal wave. He charged at Nova, his massive form barreling toward her with unrelenting speed. He was quick for his size, but Nova? Nova was a blur.
The moment his foot hit the ice, she was already moving, a streak of motion so fast that the crowd barely caught her in their sights. She spun, a fluid motion, her blade flashing in the dimmed light, narrowly missing Butcher’s grasp as she darted to the side.
She was everywhere. Every time Butcher thought he had her, she was already gone, slipping past him with the grace of a phantom. He swung wildly, but she was a blur of speed, her body almost ethereal, her movements impossibly quick.
The lights above flickered and dimmed, casting shadows that seemed to stretch and twist across the rink. The crowd fell silent, sensing the shift. Something was happening. Something that sent a shiver through the arena.
Nova’s breathing steadied, her heart racing with the familiar rhythm of battle, but now, her speed was a deadly weapon. She stopped in the center of the rink, gliding to a perfect stillness. The world around her seemed to slow down as she prepared.
Butcher, still charging, realized too late that he’d underestimated her.
Then, she skated to a stop, circling around him with impossible speed. She glided low, her blade scraping against the ice as she carved intricate patterns, drawing lines of glowing light in the shape of a rose. The air seemed to hum with energy, the rink itself bending to her movements, the lights above flickering and dimming to make way for the aura she was creating.
The rose began to form. Its petals glowed faintly at first, like a soft pulse of light spreading from the point where her blade touched the ice. Nova circled Butcher, her movements so precise and calculated, she looked like an artist painting with speed and grace. Each cut of her blade traced another petal, another line, until the entire rose was drawn around Butcher, encasing him in the glowing design.
Butcher's heavy breathing and wild eyes locked onto her in panic as the images of how Reaper died hit him all too late. The rose was more than just a symbol, it was her power, her mark of control. Her signature move. The petals glowed brighter, pulsing with energy, as Nova continued her graceful, fluid dance.
Her gauntlets hummed softly with power, ready to unleash destruction.
With each revolution, Nova shot petals from both of her gauntlets, sleek, razor-sharp metal, painted to resemble delicate flower petals, each one spinning through the air like a deadly whirlwind. They cut through the air with deadly intent, slicing into Butcher’s flesh as they tore past him, too quick for him to block.
Butcher roared, his rage growing as the petals found their marks, carving lines of blood across his skin. He tried to swing at her, but Nova was already gone, her figure a streak of speed across the rink. He was swatting at air, his massive frame struggling to keep up with her lithe, graceful movements.
The crowd, once raucous, had fallen into silence, their focus entirely on the spectacle unfolding before them. The only sounds were the soft swish of Nova’s skates and the slicing of petals cutting through the air. The tension was palpable, every spectator holding their breath.
The lights above dimmed, the atmosphere becoming charged with anticipation. The glow of Nova’s mark, her symbol, lit up the rink, casting a soft glow as she continued her rapid, unpredictable dance around Butcher. She was like a phantom, her movements impossibly fast, a blur of speed and deadly elegance.
The spotlight fell onto the two of them now: Butcher, towering and enraged, and Nova, small yet deadly, her gauntlets firing petals from both sides, each one a promise of pain. The petals shredded through the air with lethal precision, and the crowd’s silence deepened, as if the entire arena was waiting for the moment she’d end it all.
Butcher roared again, a primal sound that echoed off the walls, but this time, there was something different about his fury. It was no longer just about survival. It was about pride, about proving he could still win, even after everything. He swung his massive fists at her, but Nova was too fast, always one step ahead, always just out of reach.
And with every pass, every graceful turn, the petals kept coming, sharp, lethal, and relentless.
Her dance wasn’t just a fight; it was a statement. A declaration of what they thought was a joke of a nickname.
The petals kept flying.
Butcher was a mess of blood and fury, slashing at the air like a rabid bull. But Nova? She was poetry, fast, fluid, fierce. Her mark glowed bright under the spotlight, the massive rose now fully etched into the ice around him from her deadly skate pattern. He was standing at its center, bleeding and breathing heavy, caught in her web.
Nova skated in for one last circle, her blade dragging behind her with a metallic hiss, eyes locked on his throat. Her gauntlets clicked, petals loading again. Her breath was steady now. Calm.
She slowed just enough to make him think she was winding down.
Then she stopped cold in front of him.
Butcher blinked, dazed and swaying, blood running down his face. “You… you ain’t gonna, ”
Nova tilted her head, smirked through the crimson on her lips.
“Nah, I am,” she said.
SHHHH-THWIP!
Both gauntlets fired at once, twin volleys of petals shot straight for his head.
Butcher barely had time to react. One petal sliced clean across his neck. Another hit his jaw. More followed, raining down with surgical precision, tearing through his face, his throat, his pride.
He dropped to his knees, blood pouring, mouth trying to form words but only gurgles spilling out.
Nova stepped forward. No mercy in her stride.
She flipped her double-sided blade into position, both edges glowing beneath the spotlight.
She raised it high, and Butcher’s hand shot up, grabbing her wrist, blood slick and trembling.
He growled through the crimson bubbling up in his throat, eyes wild.
Nova didn’t flinch.
She pushed.
Her muscles strained, jaw clenched tight, every ounce of fury and pain behind the blade. He tried to hold her off, but he was weak. Bleeding. Broken.
She leaned in, stared into his eyes, and snarled:
“Tell Reaper I sent you.”
SHHINK,
The blade drove clean through his neck. A brutal, final slice.
His body slumped. His head hit the ice with a sickening crack, rolling once before stopping at the edge of the rose.
Nova stood over the wreckage, chest rising, glowing mark at her back, petals still falling like snow around them.
For a second, there was nothing but silence.
Then,
BOOM.
The crowd erupted. The entire arena shook with the roar. Even the other players, bloody, breathless, stunned, couldn’t help but stop and stare. Then they started clapping. Cheering.
Nova didn’t smile.
She just turned, walked away through the blizzard of petals and blood as the other players backed away with respect and understanding. She took her place at the puck and with one glorious swing. Immunity.
Victory had a name.
And it was hers.
18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQBjvwVOhEd
