Ishaan surveyed the corpses around him. Five shattered metal hulls belonging to the best training dummies he could afford. His mech, Gammagrade, stood in the center of them all, barely dented.
But still dented.
Ishaan—remotely inhabiting his mech—stalked to the side of the training arena where the emergency desync button was. That was the button he should've pressed. He should've raised the plastic cover and sunk his metal hand into the red circle to finally disconnect from the robot, but instead, he pressed the blue button next to it.
"Simulation restarting," a monotone voice said from the speakers. "Training begins in ten seconds." The training dummies in the arena disappeared beneath the floor and five more dropped down through a black film above Ishaan. Each robot had blades extending from their arms, resembling Sabersong, Marvin Yao's mech, and they fought with an AI-approximation of Marvin's style. Sabersong versus Gammagrade—the official duel—was in one month, and Ishaan wanted to be as prepared as possible.
As the last of the robots hit the ground, he felt a familiar sensation rush through his veins, an exhilarating weightlessness. The promise that he'd get to fight again, that his efforts were not yet in vain.
This is gonna be the one, he thought. The perfect run.
There used to be a time when he'd observe each opponent carefully, make note of their weapons and positions and come up with a plan beforehand. Now, Ishaan sought to make fighting second nature. He wouldn't think at all; he would only feel.
"Five," the training simulation announced. "Four, three, two—"
An alarm blared in Ishaan's head. Incoming call.
The training dummies went dark and drooped their arms. Ishaan blinked as the arena's artificial ceiling evaporated, revealing the rest of the Sawblades' garage. Machines roared and vibrated violently as usual, sparks flying every which way, gang members rushing between work stations and manning drones that zipped through the air carrying supplies. Five ginormous arms hung from the real ceiling and were slowly folding in on themselves like giraffes going to sleep.
Incoming call, the alarm in Ishaan's head reminded him. He looked at the stationary dummies, then looked down at the chainsaws attached on his arms. While he was tempted to cut open the dummies to salvage some satisfaction, that would be a waste of money.
He picked up the call.
"You got a visitor," came his grandmother's nasally voice. "Get up here ASAP."
"Who is it?" Ishaan asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
"Centium."
Ishaan forgot whatever he had been annoyed about. "Why are they here?" he demanded.
"I don't know, ask them yourself." Aanya Khatri sounded awfully calm for having the most powerful gang in the megacity at her doorstep.
"Why can't granduncle meet with them?" Ishaan asked, heading to the emergency desync.
"He's not feeling great. Passed out a few minutes ago."
And I was just here training. The blackouts were becoming common for Aanya's brother, the leader of the Sawblades, but Ishaan felt guilty nonetheless. Even guiltier at how he wasn't all too surprised, like he'd expected to take this meeting in his great-uncle's stead. That too was becoming common.
"Be there soon," he said, and pressed the desync button.
The sensations of his corporeal flesh hit him like a truck. The hairs on his arms shot up and a headache swelled behind his eyes. For a moment, he could barely make out a thing in the garage. He tried to stand but found that he hadn't moved a single limb. Part of his mind was still in the mech, controlling it instead of himself.
He took a deep breath. Focused his eyes on a particular desk in the workshop. He'd spent too long in the Bessmer chair this time, but it would be okay. He'd grown resilient these past few months.
Soon, his headache subsided and his vision sharpened. He pushed his arms up against the armrests, then transferred force into his legs. The good thing was, since the old training grounds had collapsed after the Manhunters' coup, he now didn't have to walk as far.
He stood, straightened his back, and stalked through the mess of machines down an asphalt ramp to the garage door. His grandmother and two Sawblade guards were already there, wearing their signature black and yellow jackets and carrying plasma rifles. The guards greeted Ishaan with nods while his grandmother just flicked her head at the garage door and walked away.
"Get rid of the guns," Ishaan said to the guards. They looked at him in confusion, but when he didn't elaborate, they set their rifles in a cubby in the wall. Ishaan felt like he had to uphold a double standard. Several weeks ago, he had ratted out the Manhunters for having guns and gotten their leader captured by Hosaka. Hosaka had given the Sawblades amnesty in return.
Ishaan pulled a lever on the wall, causing the garage door to slide upwards. Sunlight streamed in from the bottom, revealing three pairs of sandals, then the hems of cyan, blue, and purple robes. The cyan belonged to Nexus Fael, the Chief Ambassador of Centium, a thin man with gray hair and an upside-down triangle of a face. The blue belonged to Gio Columbo, Centium's head muscle, a giant man who looked like he could snap Ishaan in half. And the purple belonged to Diana Kane, the leader of Centium, a young woman with dark hair and a bionic right arm.
Ishaan smiled thinly at his guests. "Hello. Something I can do for you?"
Diana returned the greeting by storming forward until she was at the edge of being uncomfortably close. Ishaan leaned back in surprise.
"What have you done?" she demanded. Her voice was oddly quiet, lacking all of the presence her predecessor—her older brother—had possessed. Still, there was something eerie about it that made you listen to what she was saying.
Ishaan felt anger replace his startlement. How could Centium show up at his door and immediately accuse him of something? He craned forwards and sneered, "Can you be a little more specific?"
"You sold out the Manhunters," Diana said.
"Yeah, after they almost killed five innocent people." Hosaka had dismantled the Manhunters and given their territories to Centium. Why would Diana be pissed about that?
Diana narrowed her eyes. "Are you playing dumb?"
Ishaan shook his head, utterly confused. He hadn't been able to keep up with gang affairs as of late as he'd been focused on Mecha Realm, but he'd heard nothing from his great-uncle, either.
"Four of their allies got wiped out," Diana said, voice somehow growing even softer. "Not a trace of them left. It's like they never existed."
Ishaan felt a chill go down his spine. "Is there proof?"
"Search them up."
So Ishaan did. Diana gave him each of the four names, all of which he recognized, and for each one, his tablet showed blank results. Diana gave him the names of the gang members next—a few he had even talked to before. Same thing.
Ishaan slowly folded up his tablet and inhaled. "Hosaka?"
Diana nodded. Who else?
Ishaan knew to not underestimate the government, but to make four entire gangs disappear without any commotion? It was like they were nothing but ants to be stomped on.
"Did the Manhunters give them intel?" Ishaan asked.
"Most likely," Nexus said, stepping forward. Disdain flashed across Diana's face. "Although it's not like them to snitch on an ally, much less four. They're cruel, but they still have an honor code."
"So what does that mean? Hosaka has insiders?"
"It doesn't really matter," Nexus said. "However they managed to do it, they've made it clear that they can go about snuffing out gangs in the middle of the night if they so please. They think we're toys they can play with and discard to prove a point. It could be one of us next, and we wouldn't even know the reason. Do you think that's fair, Ishaan?"
"Don't say my name like that," Ishaan snapped, and caught the corner of Diana's mouth twitch upwards. "No shit I don't think it's fair. But what are we supposed to do? They're the government."
"And you'd let the government walk all over you?"
"If we don't step out of line—"
"Those four gangs didn't step out of line," Diana cut in. "Hosaka wiped them out because they wanted to."
"So what," Ishaan forced out a laugh, "we throw a revolution? Make sure they can't hurt us again or something?"
"I just want to feel a little more safe. If—"
"Yes, we would like to propose a deal," Nexus said. "We'd like to create an alliance of sorts, between as many gangs as possible. We will swear to only one item: if Hosaka attacks one of us, everyone else retaliates."
Ishaan raised an eyebrow. "Retaliate how? Revolution?"
"Of course not to that extent." Nexus spread his hands out. "We only ask that if we're threatened by Hosaka, you defend us, and we will do the same for you."
Ishaan considered for a moment. This didn't seem like one of Centium's power grabs. Maybe they really had been spooked by Hosaka's move, and he couldn't blame them. He imagined Inspectors storming into the garage, shooting anyone in sight. It would be a slaughter, and the worst part was, most of the megacity wouldn't know it had happened.
What have I actually done?
"How do we hold each other accountable?" Ishaan asked. "What's stopping you from feeding us to the wolves?"
"Nothing but our word," Nexus said. "But because this will involve so many gangs, the one who betrays will be shunned and sanctioned by the rest."
Or every gang will realize they're better off looking after themselves and it'll be exactly how it was.
Still, the promise of safety from Hosaka was enticing. They were a real threat, possibly the only threat to organizations as powerful as Centium, and it was logical that every gang would want this sort of alliance. The one thing they hated more than each other was the force that held their existence at the edge of a knife.
But Ishaan had to be sure he wasn't getting swindled.
"Can I talk to you in private?" he asked Diana.
Nexus immediately butted in, "I'm sure there's no need for that. The point of this meeting after all is for all representatives—"
"It'll be quick," Diana said. She looked at Ishaan. "Right?"
Ishaan nodded.
Nexus opened his mouth, but a glare from his leader silenced him. Ishaan turned around and led Diana up the ramp. They stopped next to the workshop entrance.
"Do you have the final say in Centium?" Ishaan hissed.
"Yes," Diana replied.
"You're sure your ambassador isn't coming up with some scheme behind your back?"
"He and I are on the same page. Unfortunately."
"So this alliance is genuine?"
"Yes."
"You're not gonna bait us into helping you and then let us get destroyed by Hosaka?"
"No."
Ishaan searched her dark eyes for a sign of deceit, but they were unreadable. "Swear on your brother's grave."
Diana's eyebrows shot up as if she wasn't quite sure what she'd heard. Then the surprise on her face twisted into anger. "Really, Ishaan?"
Ishaan almost felt bad, but reminded himself that the one thing Centium lacked was a moral high ground. How many people had they killed? How many orphans had they raised to become lackeys?
"Do it," he said.
"I swear," Diana said, concise enough to convince Ishaan that she wasn't lying. She flexed the fingers of her prosthetic and her forearm shuddered unnaturally. "Hosaka killed my brother, you know."
It was Ishaan's turn to raise his eyebrows. Everyone suspected Darren's death in that shuttle accident had been a murder in disguise, but no one had quite pointed the finger at Hosaka. Then again, who else could've done it?
"James Kobayashi visited me after. Told me I was Centium's new leader. Said he had high hopes for me." Diana's eyes flicked to the ground, then back up at Ishaan with reignited determination. "I'd rather die than be their puppet. What do you say?"
That much Ishaan could agree with. He stuck out his hand, and they shook on it.
Diana spun on her heel and stalked back to her subordinates. "We have a deal," she told them. Then she led them out of the garage, not once looking back.
-----
Soon after Diana left, Ishaan was summoned by his great-uncle. Karthik Khatri resided on the second floor of the garage, mostly spending his time in his bedroom. It was a small space with a bed, reading desk, and several carts of medical equipment. IV tubes dangled from the ceiling and an old, round speaker blasted music. The window was shielded by a poster of an AI-generated image of Gammagrade cutting Ninth Gen in half with explosions and flying sharks and a burning spaceship in the background. Ishaan found it appalling. Karthik thought it was the funniest thing ever.
But he hadn't looked at it for a long time, and like so many times before, Ishaan found him staring at the ceiling, eyes glossy, sweat beading his forehead, breaths shallow. Ishaan's grandmother sat beside him on the bed, cleaning a food tube.
Despite the declining state of things, Ishaan cherished being in this room with the only family he had left. He couldn't bear the thought of Hosaka snatching them away because of some minor affiliation.
"Thank you for taking the meeting," Karthik began, rolling his head to meet Ishaan's gaze. "You handled it well."
Ishaan smiled. "It was just a talk."
"How many times have you spoken for me? A hundred?"
"Oh please, I don't think it's even ten," Aanya said. Before Ishaan could glower at her, she said, "But you really have done a good job. With everything. What you did in Mecha Realm last year. Settling the three-round duel and expanding our reach in Nagatown. Now this." Aanya set a hand on her grandson's shoulder. "It's not like we weren't confident in you before, but this… this cemented our decision."
Ishaan looked between his grandmother and great-uncle, confused. Had they not been siblings, he would've thought they were going to announce their engagement.
"After this year's Mecha Realm," Karthik said, "We would like you to take over as head of the Sawblades."
"Oh." Ishaan was sure he was supposed to feel happy. Overjoyed. He was being trusted to lead the entire clan by his venerable great-uncle, and not just because he was family, but because he had truly proven himself.
Instead, he felt worry creep into his heart. Being leader would be much more than taking meetings. His time would get eaten away. No more training with Gammagrade. No more studying duels. This Mecha Realm may very well be his prime.
"You okay?" his grandmother asked. Ishaan looked at her, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. "You can decline, of course, but…"
"Why would I decline?" Ishaan said, smiling. "Thank you. Truly."
He felt himself slipping back into rationality. This was what he wanted. When he was younger, his grandmother, great-uncle, and other superiors would often regard his endeavors with disappointment, yet paired with that disappointment was always an equal measure of trust, trust that although he failed this time, he would not fail again. He made sure their trust was well founded. He worked harder than every other member, vowing that, one day, he would become someone who never let anyone down. He was getting there, and he deserved this.
But he needed more.
If he were to sacrifice his mech-fighting time in the coming years, he had to make sure that he went all in this year. He had to prove that he wasn't a fraud. He had to beat his idols and make his family proud. He had to win Mecha Realm.