Steel Fangs: Blood of the Machine
Season 2, Episode 24 — After the Bell
Breather Interlude
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Cold Open — "Breaking News"
Night. Screens everywhere. Bar TVs, bodegas, laundromats. The same broadcast loops on repeat: shaky rooftop footage of the Tribunal ambush.
• A man in white blurred against neon.
• Zack, fists raw steel, roaring blood.
• A bell that didn't ring but still hurt ears.
• A woman in white (Pearl-Eyes) dropping like a puppet with the strings cut.
The anchor keeps her voice steady, but the script quivers.
"Officials refuse to confirm the identities of those present. Witnesses report… inhuman combatants. One insider source described the event as 'a boardroom massacre staged on a rooftop.' The phrase circulating online? After the Bell."
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Act I — The Streets Take Sides
Bushwick, 2 A.M.
Graffiti spreads overnight. STEEL SAVED THE BRIDGE. CITY > MARROW. Pearl-Eyes's painted face crossed out with traitor. Or sometimes haloed. Nobody agrees, but everybody writes.
Harlem, dusk.
A circle of old men playing dominoes. One slams a tile, shakes his head.
"Kid's a hero."
Another snorts. "Kid's a weapon. Weapons get used."
The third lays a piece gently. "Doesn't matter. River bowed to him. That's enough."
Lower East Side, midnight.
A street preacher screams about the Bell. "It rings ideas! It rings your choices out of you!" Some laugh. Some kneel. Some record, hashtags ready.
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Act II — First Responders' Mess Hall
Firehouse 47 again. Same scarred table. Coffee stronger than sanity.
Captain (the one who cuffed Zack's shoulder at Battery) addresses the room. "Pearl-Eyes is gone. Whoever she was, she mattered. Which means politics are gonna be worse."
A younger firefighter chews on cold pizza. "You think the steel kid's on our side?"
The captain rubs her eyes. "I don't care. He's on the city's side. That's enough."
Silence. Then mugs tap wood, not cheers—just grim agreement.
In the corner, a paramedic scrolls her phone. On screen: a blurry vid of Zack pulling commuters from a tram. She whispers, "He looked tired." No one hears.
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Act III — Survivor Fragments
• Bridge Bus Passenger: "He pulled the door off like it was tape. Didn't even look at me. Just kept moving. I don't think he knows he saves people."
• Tram Kid with Braces: Uploads his shaky video: "Steel Fang just told us to bend our knees like he was our gym teacher. We lived." Comments flood: fake, angel, government op, marry me.
• Concert Goer at Battery: "I almost walked into the water. Then his voice hit me. I don't remember moving, but suddenly I was ten blocks away. Who the fuck can do that?"
• Hospital Nurse: "He carried blood bags like a barbarian. Didn't even check names. Just knew where they had to go. We wouldn't have survived the outage without him."
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Act IV — Power Brokers & Back Rooms
A senator in Midtown meets two lobbyists at a steakhouse that smells like old deals. He whispers: "If Marrow can kill Tribunal on camera, he can buy me next election. Or kill me if I say no. Get me the kid."
A Wall Street boardroom. Screens project the Blood Market's balance sheets. A CFO mutters, "Organ supply dipped twenty-two percent after the raid. Prices are unstable." Another, sharper, says, "Unstable markets are the best markets. Open bidding sooner."
Deep in Chinatown, a black-market broker lights incense before a shrine. "We sell blood, we sell lungs, we sell oaths. The river wants him. The Tribunal wants him. I just want him priced."
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Act V — Apartment Roof Again
Zack, Luna, and Silas back where it's quieter. Zack's hoodie drips laundry soap; he's freshly showered but still smells like iron.
Luna sharpens her axe with methodical, angry strokes. "Whole city's gossiping. They're turning you into a hashtag instead of a person."
Silas flips his coin, silver glint in the dark. "That's what myths are. Hashtags with teeth."
Zack doesn't answer. He looks out at the skyline, thinking of Pearl-Eyes falling, of Marrow's grin. His HUD whispers a new line:
CITY STATUS: Divided.
Faction Acknowledgement: Rising (Rumor → Belief → Worship).
Forecast: Markets opening. Blood auction imminent.
He clenches his fists. "Prestige or die."
The city answers with sirens, graffiti spray, and gossip. Always gossip.
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Stinger — The Market Invitation
An envelope slides under Zack's apartment door. No stamp. Just red wax, seal pressed with a tooth.
Inside:
"Steel Fang. You are invited to the Grand Auction. Tomorrow night. Dock 13. Bring your grief. Bring your teeth. Everything has a price." — The Market
Zack crumples it in his steel hand. Ink smears his palm like blood.