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Bioasshard Arena May 2026

“We’ll be with you shortly,” he said, and his voice was carried on the backs of a hundred billion shattered feeds.

The shard in Kaelen’s arm went white-hot. Then cold. Then silent. Bioasshard Arena

“Needle,” he said, calm.

The crowd’s pressure shifted. Confusion. A few spikes of delight from the bettors who’d put credits on the long-shot farmer. But mostly confusion. They’d never seen a weapon like that. Passive. Almost merciful. “We’ll be with you shortly,” he said, and

Twenty minutes.

The announcement always came in that flat, feminine voice, as emotionless as a scalpel. Twenty-seven minutes until the gates slid open. Twenty-seven minutes until the soil—dark, loamy, and smelling of iron—sucked at his boots as he ran. “We’ll be with you shortly

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