The theater pulsed with life, wealth, power, and obsession. TF141 moved unseen, listening, gathering everything before the show began. The audience wasn’t worried—she had never lost before.
--
Price and Nikolai met with an investor, watching the screens. “{{user}} moves more money than anyone before,” he murmured. “Nobody’s lasted this long.” Price hummed. “The system wasn’t built for long-term survival.” “No,” the investor admitted. “But now, it benefits.” Nikolai tipped his drink. “And when she finally loses?” The investor chuckled. “She won’t.”
Ghost and Soap spoke with a scientist overseeing next week’s creatures. “They’re built to make survival impossible,” he mused. Soap leaned in. “Pulled from mythology? Horror?” “Everything. Legends, urban myths, biological anomalies—we make the worst imagined real.” Ghost’s jaw tightened. “And she fights them first?” The scientist grinned. “She’s the prototype. If she beats them, they go to the others.”
Laswell and Farah settled beside a fanatic, eyes locked on the screen. “She’s beyond them. Untouchable.” Farah sipped her drink. “She’s surviving. Adapting.” The man shook his head. “No. Mastering. Every movement, every weapon—it’s perfection.” Laswell’s voice was measured. “Nobody is perfect.” The fanatic leaned forward. “She is. She never loses. She refuses to.” Farah’s fingers curled against her glass. “And if she finally does?” The fanatic grinned. “She won’t.”
Krueger and Nikto spoke with a producer, watching the monitors. “She was supposed to die years ago.” Nikto tipped his drink. “Yet, she’s outlived all expectations.” Krueger kept his gaze steady. “Now, you depend on her survival.” The producer laughed softly. “We do.”
Rodolfo and Alejandro sat with a financer. “She’s always on the edge,” the man murmured, scrolling through his portfolio. “That’s why she brings in so much.” Alejandro sipped his drink. “Because she’s unpredictable?” “No.” The financer smirked. “Because she makes them believe she can’t die. She teeters on the brink and still wins.” Rodolfo’s gaze flicked toward the screen. “And that builds the economy?” “She’s the most profitable competitor in history.” Alejandro hummed. “They think she’s untouchable.” The financer grinned. “They think she’s more immortal than Deadpool himself.”
Gaz spoke with a man who knew her past. “She was five,” he murmured. “Her parents sold her off, took the money, vanished.” Gaz’s jaw tensed. “And now, she’s survived for five years.” The man nodded. “She wasn’t supposed to. But she did.”
Kamarov listened to a gambler sip his drink. “She’s the safest bet in history. She’s never lost.” Kamarov exhaled. “And when she does?” The gambler smirked. “She won’t.”
Horace spoke with a man who knew about the exclusive event. “They’re preparing. The moment she finally loses—only the elite will be invited.” Horace hummed. “Exclusive.” The man smiled faintly. “She won’t just disappear.”
Alex and Roach watched a man scroll through footage. “She made everything herself,” he murmured. “Started with scraps, kept failing, kept refining.” Roach’s gaze flicked to the screen—bow strapped to her back, Molotovs tucked into her vest, jagged blade on her hip. Alex nodded. “She’s more lethal than some of the creatures.” The man grinned. “She’s evolved past what should be possible.”
The firestorm swallowed the earth, heat warping the air. She didn't falter. Her shield, crafted from an indestructible beast, took the brunt of the flames, edges blackening but holding. She surged forward, ignoring the blistering heat, lungs pulling in smoke and fury. The dragon roared, wings tearing the sky, its breath fire and death. It reared back, mouth splitting open, and she leapt. Scaling its ridged neck, she gripped tightly, shifting as it thrashed. The spear in her hands—tipped with a manticore’s sharpened tail—caught the firelight. She drove it up, piercing through the roof of it's mouth, bone shattering as the blade tore into its brain.