The morning air smelled of wet asphalt and neon smoke. Chuck rolled out of the crate he'd been using as a makeshift bed, stretching his arms above his head. The city was waking up around him, drones buzzing overhead and the faint rumble of hovercars along the elevated streets.
Tessa Ryne was already up, perched on the edge of a fire escape like she owned the alley, tool belt jangling with every subtle movement. Her baggy jacket sleeves were rolled up, gloves fingerless, hair tied back in its usual messy ponytail streaked with neon highlights. Grease streaked her cheek, but she didn't care. She was already running diagnostics on a small drone she'd tweaked overnight.
"Finally awake, genius?" she called. Her tone was sharp, teasing—but not unkind. Classic Tsundere.
Chuck groaned dramatically. "The sun betrayed me. It hit me directly in the face." He rolled to his side, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What have you been up to all night?"
"Improving my drone's targeting system, obviously," Tessa replied, raising an eyebrow. "Unlike you, some of us don't rely on luck to win."
Chuck smirked. "Luck? Ha! This city owes me its very survival at least once a week."
Tessa snorted, shaking her head. "One day, your confidence is going to get you fried."
"Then you'll just have to save me again," Chuck said, sitting up and tossing a wrench into his tool kit with theatrical flair.
"You wish," Tessa muttered under her breath, though the twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement.
The two made their way down the alley, where the remnants of last night's scrap-mech battle lay scattered. Twisted metal glinted under the neon lights, sparks still faintly sizzling on exposed wiring. Chuck's glove clicked into place, metal rods extending and retracting like a living exoskeleton. Tessa readied her drones, each fitted with micro-pulse emitters that could disable circuitry in seconds.
"Today," Chuck said, bouncing lightly on his heels, "we aim higher. The city's mini-arena tournament. If we win there, everyone will know we're the top street-level inventors."
Tessa tilted her head, folding her arms. "Street-level? You mean underdog-level. And don't get cocky. These aren't just scrap heaps—we're going up against the real deal."
Chuck's grin only widened. "Exactly. Underdogs with style."
The arena wasn't far, a half-forgotten industrial zone repurposed for underground mech duels. Graffiti streaked the walls, broken neon tubes flickered overhead, and the smell of burnt circuits hung thick in the air. Crowds were small but rowdy, mostly teenagers and young adults betting credits on the next flashy victory.
"Alright, Ryne," Chuck whispered as they approached the starting line. "Let's show them what chaos and genius look like."
Tessa rolled her eyes. "Let's just not humiliate ourselves. I don't want to have to patch up your ego along with your glove again."
The announcer's voice boomed, distorted through static-spewing speakers. "Welcome to the Neo Alley Mech Tournament! Round one—fighters, prepare to deploy!"
Chuck activated his glove, metal rods spinning like a miniature cyclone. Tessa released her drones, each zipping forward, scanning the opponent. Across the arena, their first challengers stepped out: two bulky mechs, patched together with whatever scraps their creators could afford. Sparks flew as they stomped forward, ready for destruction.
Chuck ducked instinctively under the first swing, rods snapping up to block another strike. "Tag-team mode?" he called to Tessa.
"Obviously," she replied, guiding one of her drones to disable a mech's exposed servo. "I'll handle the distraction; you hit the weak points."
The mechs were fast, but Chuck's glove gave him unnatural agility. He leapt from debris, swung rods like whips, and landed a spinning kick to a vulnerable joint. Tessa's drones zipped in tandem, firing micro-pulses and marking targets for him.
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood!" she called, dodging a swing from one of the mechs. Sparks flew across her jacket, and she hissed, "Watch it!"
Chuck landed, smirking. "Relax, genius. I've got this."
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched again—almost a smile. "Yeah, sure. Until the metal monster kills us both."
The crowd cheered and hissed, eyes glued to the display. Every swing, dodge, and pulse beam moved faster than the human eye could track—a blur of strategy, improvisation, and adrenaline.
By the time the first mech toppled, Chuck and Tessa were in perfect sync. He leapt over a stray pipe, rods spinning like whirling blades; she aimed her drone precisely at the mech's exposed circuits. With a final surge, sparks flying and smoke curling, the opponent collapsed in a heap of shredded metal.
Tessa landed beside him, breathing hard but smiling. "Not bad. You didn't nearly kill yourself once."
Chuck puffed out his chest. "See? Perfection in motion."
She rolled her eyes but gave a faint nod. "You're insufferable."
The next opponents were tougher: a sleek, reinforced mech controlled by a cocky teen who smirked like he already owned the arena. Chuck's glove whirred, and Tessa's drones had to dodge with split-second timing. Sparks flew in every direction, illuminating the arena like a strobe.
At one point, Tessa shouted, "Pivot left! Now!" Her drone fired a pulse just as Chuck ducked under a spinning arm, landing on a pile of crates with perfect precision. The crowd roared.
Chuck gave a thumbs-up. "You're lucky I like you, Ryne."
"Don't push it," she snapped, though her lips twitched upward.
The final round was a true test: a mech twice the size of the others, its armor reinforced with scavenged plating. Chuck's glove struggled to match its heavy strikes, and Tessa's drones had to dodge with split-second timing. Sparks flew in every direction, illuminating the alley like a strobe.
"Time for plan B," Chuck muttered, flipping a switch. His rods extended fully, rotating like a cyclone. Tessa's eyes gleamed as she guided a drone under the mech, inserting a tiny EMP pulse directly into the control circuits. The massive mech shuddered, sparks showering from its joints, then toppled with a metallic roar.
The crowd went wild. Chuck and Tessa stood panting, sweat and grease mixing on their faces, hair sticking in every direction. They had done it: victory, style, and chaos all wrapped into one.
Tessa adjusted her tool belt, brushing a streak of grease from her cheek. "Not bad, genius. Maybe you've got a brain buried under all that chaos after all."
Chuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "And you've got skill that could shame any mech pilot out there. Admit it—team Ryne is unbeatable."
She smacked him lightly on the arm. "Don't let it get to your head. This was just round one."
Chuck grinned, already plotting his next invention. "Then round two better be ready for sparks, smoke, and genius."
Tessa's lips quirked in a faint smile. "We'll see who survives it this time."
As they left the arena, the city humming around them, Chuck and Tessa felt that familiar thrill—the thrill of adventure, of pushing limits, and of being unstoppable together. And somewhere deep down, each knew: whatever challenges came next, they would face them side by side.