The stadium pulsed with energy, a swirling maelstrom of light, fire, and digital warfare. The final bracket of the quarter-finals had transformed into a maelstrom of chaos, precision, and sheer skill, with the three remaining fights waging simultaneously across the platforms.

  But for Mackiavelli, there was something far more dangerous happening beyond the fights themselves. As he dodged Sickblade Dawson’s poisoned daggers, flipping mid-air with a twist of his body, his HUD flickered red.

  ALERT: UNKNOWN CODE SIGNAL DETECTED

  SOURCE: UNIDENTIFIED USER

  LOCATION: ARENA SPECTATOR ZONE

  The moment his boots touched the platform, Mack’s eyes locked onto the upper tiers of the stadium—and that’s when he saw him. A cloaked figure stood among the roaring fans, his fingers moving rapidly, as if casting a spell. But something was off.

  The cloaked figure trembled, his hands shaking as if something was resisting his attempt to breach the system. Mack’s eyes narrowed.

  He’s trying to hack something… but it’s failing?

  The realization hit instantly—he was trying to hack Dani again. But she was in a secure location now.

  ALERT: SYSTEM INTERFERENCE DETECTED

  HACK ATTEMPT BLOCKED

  The cloaked figure jerked his hands back, shaking them out, his hood shifting as he quickly looked around before turning and ascending the stairs deeper into the audience. Mack didn’t have time to process further—because Sickblade Dawson was coming at him again. The clash of blades filled the air, daggers flashing, shadows twisting, steel meeting steel.

  Sickblade Dawson (World Chat): "You’re distracted, Mack! Can’t be worried about the audience when you’re fighting me!"

  Mack’s focus snapped back to the battle, barely dodging a cross-slash that would have sliced across his chest.

  Mackiavelli (World Chat): "Nah, I just thought I’d give you a head start."

  He vanished into the shadows. Sickblade grinned, flickering from sight as well. The crowd held its breath, watching two of the deadliest fighters disappear into nothingness. Meanwhile, Platform Two had devolved into complete elemental warfare.

  The entire battlefield was ablaze—flames, electricity, smoke, explosions. It was impossible to see through the chaos. Dani barely managed to dodge a massive arc of lightning, rolling to the side and throwing out a spiraling fire wave that clashed mid-air with Kira’s attack. The announcer was losing it.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO CALL THIS, PEOPLE! ARE WE WATCHING A FIGHT OR AN END-OF-THE-WORLD SCENARIO?! SOMEBODY GET A WEATHER REPORT—WE GOT FIRE TORNADOES AND LIGHTNING STORMS ON PLATFORM TWO!"

  Dani and Kira clashed again, their movements blurs of red-hot fire and crackling voltage. Dirk Welsby III and Drevan Cole’s fight was something else entirely—a brutal display of discipline, finesse, and sheer technique. Dirk moved like a phantom, every strike precise, every parry calculated.

  Drevan Cole (World Chat): "How the hell are you swinging so light but hitting so damn hard?!"

  Dirk Welsby III (World Chat): "It’s called refinement."

  Each time Dirk struck, Drevan’s arms shook, his boots skidding against the platform. The force behind each thrust of Dirk’s rapier felt unnatural. Mack noticed something strange from across the battlefield. Every time Dirk void-hopped, moving from one shadow to another, a flicker appeared in the code. A brief anomaly—as if something else was affecting the system. Mack toggled his scanner again.

  OLYMPUS LAND SCANNER: ANALYZING…

  TARGET: DIRK WELSBY III

  ALERT: UNKNOWN CODE SIGNATURE DETECTED

  ANOMALY DETECTED - UNREGISTERED ARTIFACT PRESENT

  Mack’s jaw clenched. What the hell is that?

  Back on Platform One, Sickblade slashed at nothing, his daggers whipping through empty space.

  Sickblade Dawson (World Chat): "Oh come on, Mack, playing hide-and-seek again?"

  Mack’s shadow clone appeared, striking at Sickblade’s back. The rogue spun, barely blocking, and that’s when he saw it. The real Mackiavelli stood behind him.

  Sickblade Dawson (World Chat): "Oh, you sneaky—"

  SLASH! Mack’s twin swords cut deep, disabling Sickblade’s movement for a fraction of a second.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "WHAT A PLAY! MACKIAVELLI JUST OUTPLAYED THE ASSASSIN’S ASSASSIN! SHADOW CLONE BAIT INTO A FULL STRIKE! BRILLIANT!"

  The crowd exploded as Sickblade gritted his teeth, scrambling away, his health bar dipping dangerously low. Mack’s attention flickered back toward the upper decks. The hooded figure had stopped moving. Mack zoomed in, his HUD flashing warnings. The hacker raised his hands again.

  OLYMPUS LAND SCANNER: ATTEMPTED BREACH DETECTED

  TARGET: UNKNOWN ENTITY

  BLOCKED.

  And then—the hacker’s head snapped toward him. A pause. A knowing stare. Mack’s blood ran cold. The hacker knew he was watching. But instead of running—the hooded figure gave the slightest tilt of his head… like a challenge.

  Back on Platform Two, Dani and Kira were reaching their limits. Both had exhaustion warnings flashing, their avatars flickering from damage overload.

  Kira Tempest (World Chat): "You’re running out of tricks, Shaw."

  Dani (World Chat): "So are you."

  Dani whipped her flames into a spiral, charging forward. On Platform Three, Dirk Welsby III sidestepped Drevan’s attack, landing a piercing counterstrike to his shoulder. Drevan grunted, his cybernetic HUD glitching from the impact.

  Drevan Cole (World Chat): "You’re pissing me off, your highness."

  Dirk smirked. On Platform One, Sickblade made one last desperate move. He threw both poisoned daggers at Mack, but Mack sidestepped, flickering through the shadows. And then—Mackiavelli’s blades found his target.

  Sickblade Dawson (World Chat): "Damn it."

  His health bar hit zero. The system flashed.

  SYSTEM MESSAGE: MACKIAVELLI WINS.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "AND THAT’S IT! THE FIRST WINNER OF THIS BRACKET IS MACKIAVELLI!"

  The crowd ERUPTED, but Mack’s eyes never left the hooded figure. Because the hacker hadn’t moved. And then—just before he disappeared into the darkness—he smirked. Mack’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t over.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  The arena trembled, the air charged with fire and lightning, the very ground beneath the fighters cracked from the sheer force of their battle. Dani Shaw and Kira Tempest stood at opposite ends of the battlefield, both visibly worn, both with health bars dangerously low.

  Dani (World Chat): "Still standing?"

  Kira wiped a smear of digital static-blood from her lip, her sword crackling with voltage.

  Kira Tempest (World Chat): "Barely. You?"

  Dani forced a smirk, though her limbs felt heavy, her mana drain warnings blaring in the corner of her HUD.

  WARNING: MANA LEVELS LOW. STAMINA DEPLETING RAPIDLY.

  Both fighters knew—this was it. And then—they charged. The battlefield was an inferno of chaos. Dani and Kira stood amidst the destruction, both barely holding themselves upright. The air between them crackled with static electricity, charged with heatwaves that distorted their forms, the sheer force of their clashing elements warping the arena's terrain into a battle-scorched wasteland.

  Neither was willing to give an inch. Kira’s blade hummed as it gathered even more power, golden arcs of lightning weaving around her form, flickering through the air like vengeful spirits. Dani’s flames twisted at her fingertips, spiraling along her arms, her HUD screaming warnings about mana depletion and system strain. They both knew—one last move would end it.

  Kira (World Chat): "One more round, Shaw. Winner takes all."

  Dani wiped the sweat from her brow, her lungs heaving, but she still managed a smirk.

  Dani (World Chat): "Fine. Just don’t cry when you lose."

  BOOM!

  Kira disappeared. A bolt of lightning streaked across the battlefield, reappearing above Dani’s head, her sword crashing down like a meteor. Dani barely had time to react.

  Dani (World Chat): “Flame Step!”

  The world blurred as she blinked away, dodging just as Kira’s attack tore through the stone beneath her, sending debris flying in all directions. The platform trembled from the impact. Kira whipped around, her blade charged, her eyes scanning the battlefield. Too late. Dani appeared behind her—fire exploding from her palms.

  Kira twisted, slashing mid-spin, her lightning-infused blade clashing with the incoming flames, sending a shockwave across the arena. The force launched both fighters backwards, their avatars skidding across the scorched ground, struggling to keep their balance. The crowd erupted into cheers, emotes flashing across the stadium screens. The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "OH, THEY’RE NOT HOLDING BACK NOW, FOLKS! WE’RE SEEING STRATEGY, SPEED, AND RAW ELEMENTAL CARNAGE! THIS ISN’T JUST A FIGHT—IT’S A CLASH OF TITANS!"

  Kira gritted her teeth, her HUD flashing critical warnings. Her HP bar had plummeted dangerously low. So had Dani’s. They had seconds left before one of them fell.

  Kira narrowed her eyes, gripping her blade. She had to end it. Her sword hummed, vibrating with unstable power, the air crackling around her.

  Kira (World Chat): "Alright, Shaw. Let’s make this one for the books."

  Dani saw it coming. The final attack. Kira’s body blurred, shifting into pure electricity, launching forward at light speed, her blade cutting through the battlefield like a streak of thunder. Dani had milliseconds to react. Her HUD was screaming.

  WARNING: HP CRITICAL. DEFENSIVE PROTOCOLS FAILING.

  But Dani wasn’t done. She slammed her hands together.

  Dani (World Chat): “Inferno Bind!”

  Flames erupted from her fingertips, whipping forward like twin chains of molten fire. Kira couldn’t stop. Couldn’t dodge. The fire chains coiled around her, yanking her straight into the explosion of Dani’s counterattack. BOOOOM!

  The impact sent both fighters sprawling in opposite directions, their bodies crashing against the charred battlefield. The stadium fell into breathless silence. Dust swirled around them as the final outcome appeared on the giant holographic board.

  SYSTEM MESSAGE: DANI SHAW WINS.

  Kira lay flat on her back. Her health bar hit zero. Dani struggled to lift herself, panting, her body aching from the battle—but she was still standing. And that was all that mattered. The crowd went berserk. Emotes, digital confetti, and flashing victory banners flooded the arena screens.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "SWEET MOTHER OF CODE! DANI SHAW PULLS IT OFF AT THE LAST SECOND! KIRA TEMPEST GOES DOWN IN A BLAZE OF GLORY—BUT MAKE NO MISTAKE, THAT WAS ONE HELL OF A FIGHT!"

  Dani let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head.

  Dani (World Chat): "Damn, you almost had me, Tempest."

  Kira, still flat on the ground, let out a groan.

  Kira (World Chat): "Yeah, yeah. Shut up and help me up."

  Dani offered her a hand, and Kira grasped it, letting herself be pulled up. Even in defeat—Kira grinned. The battle was over. But the war was just beginning. Unlike the fiery chaos of Dani’s match, Dirk Welsby III’s fight was eerily silent. No wasted movement. No excessive attacks. Just pure, calculated destruction.

  Dirk moved like a shadow, his rapier flashing like a silver thread, while Drevan Cole—once so confident, so strong—was reduced to a desperate man trying to survive. Every parry, every dodge, every desperate attempt to counter was met with precision beyond comprehension. And Dirk—wasn't even breathing hard.

  Drevan Cole (World Chat): "You… smug… bastard…"

  Dirk smiled.

  Dirk Welsby III (World Chat): "You talk too much."

  His blade flickered. Drevan tried to react. He couldn’t. SLAASH! The tip of Dirk’s rapier pierced Drevan’s chest—a perfect, clean execution.

  SYSTEM MESSAGE: DIRK WELSBY III WINS.

  Drevan’s body disintegrated into pixels, his loss absolute. The crowd erupted in a mix of awe, cheers, and sheer disbelief.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "AND THAT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IS WHY HE’S THE ONE TO BEAT! DIRK WELSBY III, THE COLD-BLOODED ROYALTY OF THIS GAME, JUST MADE IT LOOK EASY!"

  Dirk sheathed his rapier, stepping off the platform with zero reaction to his own victory. But as Mack watched him closely, his scanner pinged again.

  ALERT: UNKNOWN CODE ANOMALY DETECTED.

  Mack’s jaw tightened. Something is definitely off. While the crowd lost their minds, Mackiavelli didn't celebrate—he was already moving. He slipped through the shadows, his focus locked on the cloaked figure attempting to flee the stadium.

  But this time—he wasn’t the only one tracking him.

  Vessa (Private Chat): "You see him?"

  Dani (Private Chat): "Yeah… but why is he running?"

  Byte (Private Chat): "Because he got caught, duh."

  The cloaked hacker darted through the crowd, pushing past spectators, trying to escape detection—Until a security drone dropped from above. The entire arena gasped as the hacker was suddenly frozen in place, a glowing red containment field forming around him.

  SYSTEM MESSAGE: PLAYER “UNKNOWN” HAS BEEN RESTRICTED BY ADMIN INTERVENTION.

  The crowd lost it.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "OH-HO! WAIT A SECOND! IS THAT—IS THAT A SECURITY LOCKDOWN?! SOMEONE’S BEEN UP TO NO GOOD! LET'S HEAR IT FOR ARENA SECURITY, FOLKS!"

  The hacker struggled, but he was locked out of the system. Mack grinned. Gotcha. Dani and the others watched from the competitor’s box, while Mackiavelli strode toward them, his eyes never leaving Dirk Welsby III. As the hacker was dragged away, Mack toggled his Olympus Land Scanner again.

  TARGET: DIRK WELSBY III

  ANOMALY DETECTED. CODE SIGNATURE: WELSBY CORP MODIFICATION.

  Dani’s eyes widened.

  Dani (Private Chat): "That’s… his signature. That’s his hack, Mack."

  Mack’s fingers clenched. I knew it.

  Byte (Private Chat): "So… do we tell the officials?"

  Vessa (Private Chat): "Not yet. We need proof. Solid proof."

  Mack glanced back at Dirk, who was watching the hacker being taken away with zero expression. And then—he smirked. Mack’s blood boiled. Dirk wasn’t worried. Because he knew they couldn’t touch him—yet. But Mack wasn’t going to let this slide. His HUD flickered.

  OLYMPUS LAND SCANNER: TRACKING ENABLED. TARGET LOCKED: DIRK WELSBY III.

  Mackiavelli took a breath.

  This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  The announcer was still losing his mind.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "AND THAT’S IT! THE FINAL BRACKET OF THE QUARTER-FINALS HAS CONCLUDED, AND WHAT A SHOWDOWN IT WAS! MACKIAVELLI, DANI SHAW, AND DIRK WELSBY III ADVANCE TO THE SEMI-FINALS!"

  The crowd thundered with cheers, emotes flashing across the arena. And then—a final, chilling statement.

  ANNOUNCER (Voice Chat): "AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN… LET’S GET READY FOR THE INTERVIEWS! WE WANT TO HEAR FROM OUR CHAMPIONS BEFORE THE NEXT WAR BEGINS!"

  The camera zoomed in on Mackiavelli, Dani, and Dirk Welsby III. Mack tightened his grip on his swords. Dani exhaled, still processing the hacker’s code signature. And Dirk? Dirk Welsby III smiled.

  The kind of smile that made Mack want to punch him through the screen.

  This is part of a series of stories that have lived solely in my head for many years, and I’ve finally started writing them as serialized fiction books. If you think the story sucks, feel free to tell me—it’s all part of the process. That said, I’m also looking for constructive criticism, so any suggestions are welcome and will be considered as I work to improve the series.